As she expected, the red pickup charged forward and slammed into crowd of the dead. Zombies flew in every direction, bodies bursting apart, pieces of bodies flying across the street.
“Shit,” was all Travis could manage.
The truck backed up slowly again. The few still-staggering zombies tried to follow. Nerit waited until they were within a few feet, then sent the truck surging forward and knocked them flat. Then she reversed and ran over the bodies. Then she drove forward again. The zombies were crushed beneath the tires. The red truck drove slowly up the carnage-covered road and idled outside the gate.
Travis drew his walkie-talkie from where he kept it on his belt. “Open the gate. It’s clear now.”
Juan stared at the dead bodies and the gore-splattered pickup. “Wow.”
Katie and Jenni headed for the stairs. They both knew something was horribly wrong.
Juan looked at Travis and said again, “Wow.”
Travis smiled slightly. “Tough women are sexy, huh?”
“Shit. I think I want to marry her.”
3.
Nerit’s Story
Travis ran behind Jenni and Katie, who were hurrying at top speed down the stairs, out the back door, across the site, up onto the platform, across the bridge, and down the ladder into the new entry: it was a mad dash the whole way.
The gates opened and the red truck slowly slipped through. Armed guards stood ready to make sure no zombies got in, but Nerit had cleared the street. The truck’s deer guard was slathered in blood and gore, and the tires left grimy reddish black smears on the pavement.
As they waited for Nerit, Travis studied Katie. Her expression was desperate, sad, fearful, and wary. Though he could see her outward strength, Travis feared that her internal fortitude was failing. What was happening or not happening between them seemed minor compared to the haunted look in her eyes.
Jenni clung to Katie’s hand, appearing scared. Her long black hair caught the morning breeze and streamed behind her. She really was lovely and he was glad Juan had found comfort with her. Belinda was just bad news for him. She had been his eternal crush, and Travis watched Juan be lured in only to get spurned yet again.
Travis was mad for Katie. Never had he been in love with any woman as he was with her. He did not want to cause her any more pain than she was in, but he’d had to tell her how he felt.
Now, looking at Nerit’s expression as she climbed out of her truck, followed by her dog and clutching her sniper rifle in one hand, Travis could see just how devastating love could be. Nerit looked pale; her eyes were red and swollen. She held out her arms to the young women, who rushed immediately to her comfort her. Safe in their embrace, she let out a soft whimper and Travis’ heart broke.
Nerit didn’t have to say a word. Ralph was gone.
“This isn’t good, is it?” Juan asked from behind Travis.
“No, it’s not.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Nerit sat in the council room, a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a freshly lit cigarette smoldering in the other. Juan had given her a pack from his sacred stash.
Travis sat across from her while Jenni and Katie flanked her. Nerit looked calm, yet her hands were shaking.
“It happened yesterday,” she started, then took a long drag on her smoke. “I was bored. I had read all the books in our home, so I went across the street to the grocery store. I thought I’d grab some paperbacks and magazines.” She rubbed her weary eyes. “Ralph was on the roof, working on our new garden. It felt safe, but I still had my rifle, you know?”
Katie nodded. “I know. We can’t take chances.”
“No, no, we can’t.” Nerit tilted her head, concentrating on some point in the past. “So, I’m looking through the paperback rack and I hear a noise outside. There’s a van with four men getting out of it in front of the store. One of the men told Ralph to open the door. Ralph says not until he knows that none of them has been bitten. So one of these men…” Nerit faltered, her eyes lowering as she took a deep breath. “One of them shot Ralph.”
“Shit,” Juan hissed.
Jenni bowed her head, and Katie took Nerit’s hand.
Nerit gripped Katie’s hand so tightly, Travis could see that her knuckles were white. “Then they started trying to break in. They broke the windows but couldn’t get past the bars. That building is old and strong. I went up to the roof of the grocery store. …” Nerit fell silent as she gathered her strength.
Travis shifted in his chair, picturing the scene clearly in his mind. Nerit, the former Israeli sniper, calmly getting into position; the men below, oblivious.
“I could see Ralph slumped over, and there was so much blood. I … was going to shoot … make the bastards pay … when another man came out of the back of the van, dragging a naked woman by her hair. She was bound and gagged. She was struggling, and the man was laughing. It was horrible. Horrible.” Taking a long drag on her cigarette, Nerit paused, clearly trying to keep control of her emotions.
Travis stood up and moved to the window. He had a feeling the story was only going to get worse, and the pain emanating out of Nerit reminded him far too much of the pain he felt flowing out of Katie at times.
Juan sat down next to Jenni and put an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, weeping, overwhelmed by grief.
“He kept kicking the girl, and I was going to start with him when I saw the girl’s face. It was … wild … dead … hungry. He said, ‘I told you she was bit,’ and kept kicking her. Her thighs were raw and covered in blood. Her breasts bruised and cut. To me, it looked like they raped her until she was dead. But she was alive again, as alive as those things are.
“So I knew then what to do.” Nerit took a long slow pull off her cigarette, and her eyes became cool, calm, and dangerous. “I shot off her bonds. I took some flesh with them, but she was already dead. Those idiots were making so much noise, they never heard. I watched her get up. I watched her get her revenge on the one who had been kicking her. The other men panicked, and some shot at her.” Nerit paused and smiled. “I shot the weapons out of their hands and let her have them. All of them. And when they rose, I put them down, one by one. And at the end, I gave that poor girl her peace.”
They were speechless. What could they say? Travis was at an utter loss. What Nerit had seen and experienced was beyond anything he had encountered. He felt sick to his stomach.
“I went home. Ralph was alive, just barely. He was shot in the gut. I got him downstairs and laid him on the bed and gave him morphine. I sat with him and held his hand until the end.” Tears streamed down her face, but her expression was stoic. “I sat with my revolver against his temple and waited. But after his last breath, he didn’t stir again. I covered his body with a blanket and closed the door.”
“Why didn’t you call us?” Katie asked.
“What if those men had friends out there listening? I didn’t dare. I just packed up as much as I could and the dog and I started out this morning once I was sure there were no more bandits lurking around my town.” Nerit stubbed out her cigarette and sighed. “I did not want to lead them here.”
“We need to double the guards,” Travis said urgently.
“We need to finish the gates,” Juan said, standing up. “We can’t take any risks if we have more to worry about than just zombies.”
Jenni peered up at them, tears streaming down her face. “If they’d just shoot an old man without a second thought, what would they do to us?”
Katie had her arms around Nerit, comforting her. “We need to make sure we are ready for them if they do show up.”
Travis laid a gentle hand on Nerit’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nerit. I liked Ralph.”
Nerit smiled at him slightly. “And he liked you. But he did teach us one final important lesson.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s the bite that brings them back. We have nothing to fear from those who die naturally.” Nerit rubbed the bridge of her nos
e with her fingers. “And for that, I am grateful.”
EPILOGUE
The reality of the new world, in all its brutal and violent glory, had enveloped the fort. A murder had been committed by one of their own, and despite Bill’s rigorous investigation, the murderer had not been found.
There was some relief when it was announced that a normal death did not bring about a zombie birth, since there was a small aged population in the fort, and no one wanted to have to kill Old Man Watson or any of the others if they rose again.
Juan and Travis worked tirelessly on the gates, taking only brief breaks to sleep or eat. Travis redesigned the gate system, and the construction crews not only fixed the first gate but soon erected the second gate in addition. Incorporating the old newspaper building into the fort, they soon had a working garage. Unfortunately, the building had sat derelict for a long time. To clean it out and make it habitable would take weeks, maybe months.
They needed the hotel.
Nerit found a place for herself in the fort relatively quickly. She, Katie, Jenni, and other volunteers built a gated entrance that would open to the hotel. Nerit seemed energized by the work. Her dog, Tucker, had bonded with Jack, and the two animals could often be seen near the womens’ worksite, watching everything with great interest.
Jason gave up his bed to Nerit and moved into a room with another teenage boy. Jack went with him.
Katie knew that Jenni regularly sneaked out of their room to be with Juan and was happy that her friend had found some happiness in this dead and rotting world. She continued to struggle with the ghost of Lydia, feeling guilt for any ounce of happiness she found. The only way to stop the guilt was to limit her time with Travis, which hurt both of them. But what else could she do?
The winds shifted, and April gave birth to May. The world grew hotter and fiercer. The bluebonnets faded away to tall grasses, and the spring showers gave way to long hot days. Despite all they had endured, they all sensed the one unavoidable truth none wanted to speak of.
The worst was yet to come. …
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to Michelle, Connie, and Kody for being the first to take a stab at making this story better than the original.
Eternal thanks to Melissa, my editor, who pushed me even further in making sure it’s the best story possible.
Heartfelt thanks and appreciation to Dr. Pus of the Library of the Living Dead Podcast, who spread the word about the original version of this story to the zombie fans.
A special acknowledgment to Corey, my loving husband. Without you, honey, I would have never had the courage to do this.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The First Days was inspired by a brief image that flashed in my mind one day when I was at work. I saw a young woman with black hair clad in a pink bathrobe standing on the front steps of her home, staring downward. I wondered what she was looking at with such a horrified expression. Then suddenly I saw those tiny fingers pressed under the door.
It was a terrifying image, and I couldn’t wait to write about the woman and her zombified child. When I had my break, I immediately wrote down what I thought was a short story and posted it online. The response from the readers was quite overwhelming. In fact, quite a few contacted me to ask, “Where is the rest of it?”
I considered the question and realized there was so much more to the story. So I began to write. …
The First Days: As the World Dies was written in bits and pieces as I traveled far and wide across the Great State of Texas for my job as a governmental consultant. The people and the towns I visited inspired me as I wrote about the fort tucked away in the Texas Hill Country. Writers are often advised to write about what they know and love. Well, I know Texans and I love the zombie genre.
At night, I sat in my hotel room and wrote out the mini-chapters for the nearly daily installments online. Typing away on the laptop, I never imagined how popular this story would become. Even though the online version was very rough and not edited, the readership grew. Many fans took the time to write and let me know how much they were enjoying the story.
As both minor and major characters fell to the zombie hordes, I found out just how beloved the fort inhabitants had become as mournful messages poured into my inbox from emotional readers. A few lobbied to keep their favorites alive. Of course, I couldn’t pay attention. This is a zombie story, after all. Some people live. Some people die. That’s the way it has to be.
When the story was done, the outpouring of support and affection for it was almost overwhelming. There was an almost unanimous cry of “This needs to be published!”
At that time, the zombie genre was in its infancy and had yet to take full hold of the public imagination. After a year of dead ends at attempting to find an agent and publisher, my husband urged me to self-publish the story. Day after day, fans were sending me e-mails asking when the published version would be available. Encouraged by the fan base and my husband, I decided to self-publish. Utilizing the amazing skills of our friends, we worked to release a revised version of the story that had appeared online.
My mother, Connie Frater, and a friend, Michelle Downey, both worked to make the story flow better, while Detra created the original cover for The First Days. Hoping for the best, I released the first version in August 2008.
Within a year’s time, I had two offers from publishers to reissue The First Days and its two sequels and an offer to option the story for film. At the urging of other authors and my entertainment lawyer (who would negotiate the TV and film rights), I started to look again for an agent.
Happily, I was blessed that Hannah Brown Gordon of the Foundry Literary + Media agency loved my story and believed that she could find the best publisher for it.
And she was right!
In March 2010, I got “the call” every author dreams about. I could barely talk when Hannah told me that Tor wanted to publish my zombie novels. It would take weeks for the shock to wear off and the reality to settle in that my zombie story about two women fleeing into the Texas Hill Country would be published by Tor.
If not for the encouragement of all the original readers, I would not have the pleasure of seeing my work published by my dream publisher. I am eternally grateful to those first die-hard fans who pushed me and believed in me.
Thank you. …
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE FIRST DAYS: AS THE WORLD DIES
Copyright © 2008, 2011 by Rhiannon Frater
All rights reserved.
A Tor ® eBook
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor ® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Frater, Rhiannon.
The first days : as the world dies / Rhiannon Frater. —1st ed.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN 978-0-7653-3126-7
1. Zombies—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3606.R4255F57 2011
813'.6—dc22
2011011563
First Tor Edition: July 2011
eISBN 978-1-4299-7682-4
First Tor eBook Edition: July 2011
Fighting to Survive
Rhiannon Frater
A TOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES BOOK
NEW YORK
Dedicated to my cousin Claudia
Somewhere in Texas
The Fort
CHAPTER ONE
1.
Terror in the Darkness
The hallway was barely lit by the blue glow shimmering up the stairs from the TV in the living room. The light flickered along the walls and ceiling, providing just enough brightness to make out her path. Groggily, Jenni walked toward her younges
t son’s bedroom, near the top of the stairs. She shoved her long dark hair out of her face and glanced down the staircase. Through the railing, she could see her husband, Lloyd, in his usual seat in the living room, staring at the plasma-screen TV. She could clearly discern the black silhouette of his head against the brightly lit screen.
Warily, wanting to avoid alerting him to her presence, she hurried into Benji’s room.
The Mickey Mouse night-light illuminated the room, revealing the form of her sleeping three-year-old in his racing car–shaped bed. His little hand was thrown over his dark blond curls, his lips parted as he softly snored. Smiling, Jenni knelt down and tucked his Winnie-the-Pooh blankets closer around his body. He was just recovering from a cold and she wanted to make sure he didn’t get chilled. Her fingers gently caressed his soft, full cheek, then smoothed his curls back from his face. He looked like Lloyd, and every day, Jenni prayed that Benji did not have his father’s violent temper or cruel streak. She wanted him to grow up to be a good, strong man who would love his family and protect them, not brutalize them and make them fear him.
A noise from downstairs startled her. She tensed, listening intently for the sounds of Lloyd’s footsteps on the stairs, but heard only the distant hum of the TV.
Lloyd hated it when she “coddled” the boys. He grew annoyed when she checked on them at night and accused her of using that as an excuse to spy on his late-night habits. Frankly, she preferred it when he stayed downstairs, watching porn, calling his girlfriends, and leaving her to sleep alone in their bed.
“I want you not to be like him,” she whispered to Benji as he slept. “Don’t be like him.”
She kissed Benji’s forehead and breathed in his sweet baby smell. She loved him so.
Standing up, she looked at the remains of Benji’s bedtime snack on the side table. There was one oatmeal cookie on the plate, but the milk glass was empty. Both the boys enjoyed a nighttime snack before bed. She didn’t see the harm in it, even though Lloyd said she was spoiling them. To pacify her health-freak husband, she used all-natural ingredients in the cookies, and they were delicious. Feeling a little hungry, she grabbed up the cookie and started to nibble on it.
As The World Dies Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 31
