by S L Dearing
“Fuck you, Greg,” I said as the vampire lunged at us.
UNTIL THE END
BRITTANY HIESTER
Author Info:
Brittany Hiester was born in 1992. She plans to write many more works, mainly in the YA, romance, horror, and paranormal genres. She does not care about being a famous author that makes tons of money. All of the proceeds of her first book go to charity. She has been writing since she was eight, works full-time doing surveys on the phone, and also reviews books.
You can connect with Brittany at:
https://www.facebook.com/brittany.hiester
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBrittanyHiester
Until the End
The world, as we have always known it, is over. I knew it the moment I woke up huddled next to my friend Christian. We hid out in an abandoned basement while everyone else found sanctuary at the Ramada hotel here in Pottsville. Or at least what was left of Pottsville. I knew, and Christian knew, that the hotel would not protect everyone against a gigantic tsunami, but they all had faith that they would survive in there.
I already knew that everyone was gone. I couldn’t think about that right now though. The world was gone. Christian and I would have to try and survive on our own. Christian had a packet of matches that we could use to light fires. We also had a backpack that contained four bottles of water, enough food to last us for at least three days, and a bow.
We found all this stuff in the basement where we were hiding out. We used the light from our cell phones to try and find arrows for the bow, but there were none. We would just have to make do with what we had, and hope for the best.
“Christian,” I said groggily.
Christian made some sort of incoherent noise in reply.
“Wake up,” I said. “I think it’s over.”
I pressed a button on my cell phone for some light so I could see Christian. Christian was not only a good friend of mine, but my coworker/boss. It was funny how we were friends. He was like the boy version of a popular girl. He was popular; cared about the way he looked, was stick skinny, dressed fashionably, had a pretty face, and was stuck-up. Plus, he was a gentleman and had a great sense of humor. If he was a girl we would probably not be friends. But that confused me and made me question why we were friends, even if he was a guy. I guess it was because we had crazy, fun adventures and always made each other laugh.
I was more of a loner who only had a few friends and my own style.
If Christian saw his dark hair right now he’d be horrified. It stuck out at different angles and lay flat near the front. He hated the way it would lay flat sometimes. I’m sure he could care less right now though. Our families and friends were gone. For all we knew it could just be us on this planet with no one else inhabiting it.
“I’m not ready to face it,” Christian said softly.
This was the first time I had ever witnessed Christian being upset. I knew exactly how he felt. I didn’t want to face the harsh reality that was about to come upon us either. We would have to emerge sometime though.
“I’m not ready to face it either,” I admitted. “We can do this though.”
Right now was not the time to be down about things. If Christian and I were going to survive this ordeal we would have to stay strong. I would pick him up if he was down and hopefully he’d do the same for me. We needed to be each other’s rocks until we knew if there were any others alive.
We stood up and stretched lazily. Christian put the straps of the backpack on his shoulders, ready to go. We took out our cell phones and used them to guide our way to the dirty cement stairs which would lead us to the door and outside into a whole new world.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when our feet touched the ground, which was nothing but patches of dirt now. I looked around and there was literally nothing around us. Everything was completely wiped out. There was maybe a piece of wood here, a toy over there, but that was it. There was no grass either. There was only dirt beneath our feet, which was more like mud because of the tsunami.
The sky above us was no longer a beautiful blue color. The sun was no longer a golden yellow to make the days seem brighter. The sky cascaded with dark purple and black, ugly clouds that threatened to tear apart the Earth once more. The sun wasn’t even present, which wasn’t a surprise at all.
The sky wasn’t what scared me though. What scared me was that there was practically nothing around us. The Earth was just this wide open space for us to walk miles and miles on. But what was out there miles and miles away? Somebody? Something? Anything?
Besides the patches of dirt, the streets and sidewalks were still around us too. Except they were in pretty bad shape, with multiple cracks, and they looked like they were on the verge of caving in if you dared to take even one step.
“Well, it’s somewhat how I imagined it would be,” Christian said in a monotone.
I had nothing to say. It felt like all the energy I had received from my long nap had been swiped away from me. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and wait for death to claim me as its next victim. This world wasn’t worth living in. Everyone I had known and loved was gone as far as I knew. If they weren’t, they were probably wishing for death just like I was.
My ears perked up as I heard a crackling moan. It didn’t exactly sound like a zombie, but it was close enough.
“Brittany, did you hear that?” Christian asked.
I nodded as my body tensed up. We had no way to defend ourselves. We could just head back down into the basement, but if the living creature was strong enough it could simply break in and kill us.
“No way,” I breathed as I finally saw who was making the sounds.
It was Monica. Monica was a woman who worked with us, and not well I might add. She’d use the bathroom every hour, was bad with pronunciation, and randomly wouldn’t show up for work. Our supervisor and monitor were afraid to fire Monica so she stayed at our work longer than necessary. Truth was that she shouldn’t have been hired in the first place.
Monica was a little strange as well. She would laugh to herself at random times, she talked like she smoked for eighty years, and she would try to sell egg rolls and candy to people for a little extra money.
Monica was walking toward us making her crackle/moan noise. Her “perm” looked like she put it into two braids and just took it out in the morning, as usual. She wore her red sweatshirt and tan pants. In her hand she carried what appeared to be an egg roll. How did she find it? I have no clue. There was hardly anything around us right now.
“Out of all the people who could’ve lived along with us of course it’d be her,” Christian said under his breath.
I understood what Christian meant. Monica would be no use to us whatsoever. I don’t think she could hit water if she fell out of a boat! Not only that, but Monica went ballistic two weeks ago and attacked a new worker. Monica chewed off the employee’s hand before the police came to reprimand her. She was thrown into the insane asylum.
Christian and I used to joke that Monica could pass for a zombie. Alas, she had pretty much become one and now she was free. Free to attack us.
Monica held out the egg roll from where she stood about ten feet away.
“You guys have any egg rolls you want to sell?” Monica asked. “Or some candy I can sell to the children?”
Christian raised his eyebrow at me and I tried hard not to laugh at her ridiculous question. She must’ve been oblivious to the tsunami. I wondered at that moment how she survived it like we did.
Christian was more talkative than I was so he took it upon himself to answer for us.
“No, we do not,” Christian replied, keeping a straight face.
“Hold on, I have to pee. I’ll be right back,” Monica said. “Stay right there.”
When Monica was far enough away Christian and I had the same idea and headed off in the other direction.
“Why am I not surprised that Monica, of all people, survived the end of the world?” Christian asked.
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“Not only that, but she’s clearly a zombie,” I added.
“Not a surprise either and I told you I could see her being one,” Christian reminded me.
“I can’t believe it actually happened though!” I exclaimed. “We were only joking. Besides that, if it so happens that it’s just Monica and us as survivors, we should continue walking and get as far away from her as possible.”
As we continued our walk we ate some bread and drank some more water to keep our strength up. I hoped we’d find some more supplies soon.
We finally came to find a house with no roof, doors, or windows, but it was more or less still intact. It was salvation for now. What I hoped for more than anything was that there’d be some items in this house and it not just end up an empty shelter to crash in.
We carefully walked up the stairs. The stairs cracked and groaned in protest as we ascended them. Luckily, they didn’t cave in on us.
As we walked through the front door I noticed a few shards of glass on the wooden floor. I wondered if it was carpeted before the tsunami came and wiped everything out.
Christian searched the basement of the house while I looked around the living room, dining room, and kitchen for anything that would be of use to us. The house seemed to be completely empty besides the shards of glass that lay on the floor.
“Brittany, I found a few arrows for that bow we found,” Christian called out.
I used my cell phone light to guide my way down to the basement.
“There’s nothing upstairs. Did you find anything else?” I asked.
Christian proceeded to put the seven arrows into the backpack. They would come in handy if we saw Monica again, or someone else who might be a zombie.
“Well, not something, but someone,” Christian replied.
Christian shined his flashlight on whoever the other survivor was. But it was not a survivor he was speaking of. The body was of a skinny, frail woman. One of her eye sockets was missing an eye and her hair was just little tufts of gray. The woman’s limbs were rearranged in impossible angles. Blood had poured from where her heart should have been and was now all dried up and crusted on her clothes.
It was the most graphic and horrific scene I had ever witnessed in my life. I didn’t know who this woman was, but I automatically felt terrible for the fate she had suffered. The only person I could think of who could have done this to her was Monica. She was the only other person who we had seen alive and who was a zombie.
“Do you think it was her?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Christian replied knowing who I was referring to. “I mean, yes, she is technically a zombie, but we haven’t been around enough yet to know if she’s the only one. I hope she is though.”
“Let’s go. This place isn’t of any use to us,” I said.
Christian followed me back up the stairs and waiting for us at the entrance was Monica… and she wasn’t alone.
Along with Monica were five other people… or should I say five other zombies?
“My friends are hungry as well. I hope you don’t mind,” Monica said with a smirk.
My mouth dropped open in shock. Monica didn’t have that crackling voice of hers. She sounded like a normal woman. Not only that, but her voice sounded like an intellectual woman. A woman with class who could make you believe every word out of her mouth.
“What happened to her voice?” I asked myself in a hushed tone.
Monica must’ve heard me because she answered my question.
“I had you all fooled, didn’t I?” Monica asked. “I wasn’t really stupid nor did I have a raspy voice. I only acted that way so people would feel sorry for me. It worked beautifully!”
Christian and I exchanged a shocked look. Monica wasn’t some weird, unintelligent employee after all. Now, because we had been fooled by her acting skills, we would become her next lunch.
“Brit, get the bow and arrows out of my bag!” Christian demanded.
I quickly did as I was told, trying to be calm the entire time. If I wasn’t calm I would shake and probably drop something.
“Have you ever used a bow and arrow?” Christian asked.
“I practiced at Rachel’s before and I guess I was okay,” I replied nervously.
“You can do this. There are five of them and seven arrows,” Christian assured me.
“Go ahead. Hit us!” Monica challenged with a laugh.
I tried to remember what Rachel taught me about shooting a bow and arrow. I held tightly to the arrow and pulled the string back as hard as I could. Pulling the string back was the hardest part sometimes, but with practice it always got easier. I aimed right between Monica’s eyes and released the arrow, hoping I wouldn’t miss.
The arrow swiftly plunged right between Monica’s eyes, causing her to fall onto her back with a loud thud.
“You got her, that’s good. Now get the others!” Christian said anxiously.
Before I got my next arrow in place, I heard Monica first snicker, and then her laughter increased little by little until it was at its maximum volume and obviously exaggerated.
“Nice try,” Monica said, sitting up with the arrow still between her eyes.
Blood was slowly trickling down Monica’s face where the arrow had pierced her skin. Monica stood up, not minding when the blood got in her eyes and mouth.
“The only way to kill us is to burn us,” Monica said with a wicked smile.
I wasted the arrow. Monica and her army of zombies could still kill us. The only weapon we had now was six arrows and I didn’t want to waste anymore. Then it hit me.
“Christian, your matches!” I exclaimed.
Christian gasped and quickly dug in his pocket for the packet of matches. He swiped the match across the matchbox’s surface.
“Light the arrow,” I said.
I pointed the tip of the arrow towards Christian and he used his lit up match to set the arrow on fire.
I quickly aimed the arrow at another zombie and released it. I had to do this as quickly as possible before the fire along the arrow reached my fingertips and scorched them.
I hit the male zombie right in his throat. The fire transferred from the arrow onto his body. He let out an ear piercing scream. I had no time to watch or listen though; one by one I repeated the same thing I had done before. Light arrow on fire, aim, and fire at zombie. I got them all, luckily, and I honestly didn’t think I could. The last one came down to Monica.
Monica’s band of zombies were screaming and slowly falling to their knees on the floor. I could smell their rotten flesh burning. It was the worst thing I had ever smelled. I couldn’t even describe how foul the smell was. It was like ten skunks and ten dumpsters put together times one thousand. I knew the stench would remain in my nose for a few weeks or so.
I glared at Monica while Christian smirked. We knew we had won the battle. We almost hadn’t, though. If we hadn’t found the matches and the arrows we would have been dead.
“I was just kidding before. I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” Monica said, putting on her fake, crackling voice.
Christian shook his head and tsked as he lit the next arrow on fire for me. I quickly aimed it and pulled back as hard as I could.
“Wait, I want to do this one,” Christian said. “Get her back for all the times I had to monitor her.”
“Do you know how?” I asked.
“Well, I was watching you. I am confident that I can do it,” Christian replied, taking the bow and arrow from me. “Plus…it’s Monica and I refuse to miss.”
With that Christian aimed the bow and arrow at Monica and pulled back as hard as he could. Monica screamed as the arrow pierced her right in her heart. The flames traveled along the arrow, quickly engulfing her body in its scorching heat.
One by one the bodies exploded into a bloody mess. Blood splattered onto us, along with pieces and chunks of flesh.
I shook off as much of the zombie’s flesh and blood as I could. It smelled so foul. I felt b
ile rise in my throat and fought hard to keep from puking my guts up. It didn’t work; the smell was too horrid for my stomach to handle and I violently vomited. I could hear Christian gagging and spitting. He was trying to keep from vomiting as well.
“This is so nasty,” Christian groaned.
I caught my breath and spoke, “At least they’re dead and we’re alive.”
Yes, we were alive…but for how much longer?
I KNOW MY FIRST NAME IS CLOSSIANA
K.T. HENNESSY
Dedicated to:
This first publication is dedicated to my family. To my soulmate, Edoardo, my pillar, thank you for always believing in me, even when I didn't, you are the drum to my beat, and your love and support give me the courage to follow through with my crazy passions. To my beautiful children, Lilyrose and Alessandro, you challenge me on so many levels and make me a better person, you are the air to my breath, may you always pursue your dreams.
Love Mom.
Author Info:
Kimberly Hennessy graduated from Concordia University with a BSc in Psychology. She lives in Montréal Canada with her husband and two children. Her study of human nature has led to the pursuit of literature, theatre, and acting, but none as fascinating as writer.
To learn more of her upcoming screenplay, “A Shiner’s War” please visit her website at http://www.kthennessy.com
I Know My First Name is Clossiana
My mother always taught me that everybody has a purpose. You know the kind of purpose that says you matter…
Myself, I just believed that we were part of some intricate web, no more special, no more singular than the next silk string, but all together part of a whole…that was before…before I was possibly the only survivor left of my kind.
Now, I don’t know what to believe…
I open my eyes and it’s dark as usual. The pit in my stomach immediately starts to swell and radiate all through my body.
Like an exercise routine, I replay my humdrum. “Breathe Cass, breathe”
