Copyright Notice
Copyright © 2019 Alice La Roux/AJ Everheart
Formatting: The Graphics Shed
Proofreading: Dom’s Proofreading
Cover Design: Pink Elephant Designs
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please contact the author: [email protected].
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contents
Authors Note
Playlist
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Authors Note
While some of the places mentioned in this novella are real, artistic licence has been taken.
For my husband, who is adamant that a zombie apocalypse is on the cards.
And no, you can’t have a weapons arsenal ‘just in case’.
Playlist
Imagine Dragons―Radioactive
Jamie N Commons―Not Gonna Break Me
Wolf Alice―Blush
PVRIS―Fire
Sam Tinnesz―Even If It Hurts (Acoustic)
The Score―Born For This
Adam Jensen―The Hunter
Bishop Briggs―White Flag
Jetta―I'd Love To Change The World
Smash Into Pieces―Let Me Be Your Superhero
Prologue
Everyone remembers what they were doing when the outbreak hit. Everyone. It was like Princess Diana's death or the horrors of 9/11 all over again. A dreadful moment, forever burned into the fabric of society, like an ink smudge that stained everything.
I was in science class, only one of six students that day, and we had been sitting in a mock exam. I’d stressed for weeks over it, convinced my life and my shot at University would be fucked up if I failed. If only I had known. But none of us had.
Rosehill Academy wasn't my first-choice school, it was a stuffy all-girls boarding school based in the middle of nowhere. Farmlands, hills, and sheep were the only things around for miles. Even the nearest village felt like a trek away. That's why we were only allowed to visit once a month when the school minibus would take us and then pick us up four hours later. The Littlies, that's what we called the under 16's, weren't allowed off the school grounds at all, it was a privilege reserved for us sixth formers.
My father, a colonel in the army, had chosen it as his base and was in the next county. He wasn’t stationed there all the time, he often travelled across Europe and the UK, but he always returned to Litchfield―he would say it was to be closer to me. Rosehill wasn't a military school as such, but because of its closeness (not really close at all to anything) with the Litchfield base and its rankings in the education tables, lots of army brats ended up here. Parents wanted their children to experience the 'real world' outside the barracks, but I couldn't see how boarding school was all that different.
In the dining hall that morning, the radio had talked about a strange flu outbreak in the larger cities, but we paid no attention as we buttered toast out in the sticks. The rest of the morning passed quietly until science class at eleven. That's when huge coaches pulled into the school grounds, each escorted by four armed soldiers. The buzz of curiosity in the air quickly turned to panic when the fire alarms began to shrill loudly down each corridor.
“Girls, leave your things and make your way to the car park. We're being evacuated.” Mrs. Evans, our chemistry teacher, refused to say anything else or answer our questions as we made our way downstairs. At the time, I hated her for being secretive and not telling us what was happening. Later, I realised it was because she was just as clueless as we were.
The school wasn't a very large one, three coaches took the students from years 7 to 11 and two school minibuses took the sixth formers. My father liked to joke that the temper I’d inherited from my mother was uncontrollable, and that I was his wild little savage, he'd say affectionately as he ruffled my hair. When I saw the head teacher, Mrs. Blythe, give Mrs. Evans directions on what was happening, that temper of mine flared up. I wasn't stupid. Evacuation? Armed soldiers? Something was wrong, this wasn't just another drill.
Mrs. Evans came back to us, looking like she wanted to be sick, panic clear on her face. “Right, class 12CT and class 11DB, we need you to get on the minibuses one at a time so we can do a headcount. Class 12, you're with me, and 11, go over there with Mrs. Thomas.”
We muttered amongst ourselves as we watched the Littlies pull off in their coaches, not realising that everything was about to change. I climbed into the minibus and sat next to a girl called Amy. I had classes with her, but we weren't friends. I didn't really do friends. In fact, my class thought I was rather odd in that I did not care about boys or clothes, makeup, or drinking. I just wanted to do my time at Rosehill Academy and move on.
Amy didn't speak to me, but I could see her hands trembling in her lap, and I felt like I should say something.
“It's going to be okay,” I lied. I didn't know what was going on, how could I have?
She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “I haven't heard from my parents since the flu outbreak yesterday. Mia, I think something is wrong.”
Another girl in the seat behind us leaned forward and whispered, “Maybe it's a nuclear attack. Or terrorists.”
“Don't be dramatic, Susan,” Ellie sighed from across the aisle. It was a little dramatic, but army children knew all too well the dangers their parents faced on a daily basis. It wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility; we had never been evacuated like this before.
Finally, we were all on board—one driver, one soldier, two teachers, and fourteen students. As we were the last to leave, Mrs. Evans had to jump out and lock the main gate behind us before rushing back to the minibus. We sped down the lanes with a sense of urgency, but no one said anything.
We'd only been driving for about ten minutes when the driver suddenly slammed on the brakes, jolting us all forward. We pressed our faces against the window, trying to see why we had stopped, and there were no words for what was happening. There must have been an accident that caused one of the coaches to stop, resulting in the next one slamming into the back of it. The minibus in front of us had tried to swerve and miss the collision but ended up nose down in an embankment. As our driver tried to reverse, I could see people running up to the buses, throwing themselves at
the windows. I thought they were trying to help, to free the students, but instead they were pulling children out, and I could hear the screams as they started to bite into them and tear them to pieces. There were shots being fired. Shouts. More bodies came out of the woods, more screams, and we watched as the armed soldiers failed to protect their charges. It was carnage, one of the coaches had caught fire, there was glass and bodies everywhere, blood everywhere. Someone threw themselves onto our windscreen, cracking the glass. It was then that I realised it wasn't a person, not anymore. Half of its face looked like it was decaying, like it might slide off its skull. There was blood smeared around its mouth and on its fingers as it clawed at the glass, teeth gnashing. It looked like a rabid animal, there was no light behind its eyes as it tried desperately to get at the driver.
Distracted by the monster trying to get in, he reversed into a stone boundary wall. With the impact, the windscreen shattered and the zombie was on the driver before I could even blink. The soldier started shooting, trying to save his friend, but the noise drew the attention of the creatures that had been attacking the coaches. Some of them turned and looked for a moment, and it was then that I realised all the noise had stopped. There was no more screaming, no gunfire, no shouting, only wet slurping sounds as they dug into human flesh.
The zombies started running towards us, and panic filled my bus. I pushed my way past the others to open the back door and climb out. I wasn't going to sit and wait, I wasn't going to be tuna in a tin can for them to feast on.
“We need to run,” I screamed as the other girls started to clamber out.
I headed for the woods, and for a moment, I thought about hiding, but there were too many bodies milling around. I turned around as Mrs. Evans fell, one of those things had a hold of her ankle. I don't know why, but I picked up a branch, and I tried to go back for her. Her screams stopped, her face frozen in horror as the zombie tore her open and gorged on her intestines. It was too engrossed in its meal to notice me until I swung the branch, again and again and again. Its skull was caved in when it finally stopped twitching. There was nothing I could do for Mrs. Evans, so I slipped my hand into her pocket and took the key for Rosehill Academy. There was nowhere to hide, just woodland and fields for miles. Rosehill was the only chance of survival.
I could hear more of them coming, moving through the woods, and the smell of blood hung heavy in the air. I turned, and I ran. I have never run so fast in my life. I didn’t stop until I saw the Academy. I could see two figures dressed in Rosehill uniform just behind me, Ellie and Susan must have had the same thought I did. I unlocked the gate as quickly as I could and held it open for them, but I could see zombies creeping out from the wood line and heading straight for us.
“We have to lock it,” I said, closing the gates. Ellie grabbed my arm, tears streaming down her face.
“But what if somebody else survived? We can't just leave them out there!” Ellie sobbed. Her knees were bloody where she’d obviously fallen and mud was smeared across her face.
“We have to.” My voice didn’t sound like mine, it sounded authoritative, commanding, like my father’s, and my chest hurt at the thought of him. I didn’t want to leave anyone else outside, but I wasn’t about to be eaten either.
Susan said nothing but nodded in agreement. She had looked even worse than Ellie, blood and dirt covered her. Her blouse was torn, and she wrapped her arms around her body as if holding herself together. What a disaster.
The gates closed with a clang, and I locked the chain and pulled across the bolts from the inside. And that's how we survived the initial outbreak of what we later learned was a government-created zombie virus and not the flu.
Chapter One
Alex
Supplies were getting low at Basecamp, meaning that people were getting restless and starting to fight amongst themselves. We were getting desperate, and these days everyone was desperate―it was the permanent state we lived in, but even the smallest thing tipped us over the edge. But that was how we found ourselves scouring the countryside and breaking into what used to be a girls boarding school.
As we sneak up the driveway, we notice that the main gate is locked with a chain and padlock. Dai pulls bolt cutters out of his bag and quickly cuts through the metal. He gives the gate a shove, but the damn thing doesn't move. We look around to see if the noise has disturbed anything. Coast is clear, I nod at the others. It looks like it's locked again on the other side. Lee, one of the younger lads, throws down his pack and tries to climb the wall. We hear a couple of colourful swear words as he lands, and a few minutes later, the gate opens a crack. We slip through, all five of us, and close it again. We don't want anyone creeping up behind us, if we can help it.
As we move slowly through the yard, I see why Lee wasn’t a happy bunny when he landed; there are long glass shards and screws everywhere all over the floor. Wires that are rigged up to tin cans knock and echo around us as Dai stumbles into one. I shoot him a look, and he shrugs. The place is booby-trapped, not ideal, but at least it points to a human presence...unless they’ve been turned, in which case we may have accidentally trapped ourselves in with a zombie.
We stand still for a moment, waiting for the noise to die in the air and see if anything crawls or runs out of the buildings surrounding us. I always hate this bit because it feels like my heart is going to burst out of my rib cage, and the only noise I can hear is the whoosh of my own blood until I hear...nothing. This time, we hear nothing. We all quietly exhale and look at each other with a small smile. Donovan is letting me lead today, so I motion forward with two fingers, and we continue to creep forward.
I send Karen and Dai off to some buildings on the right—they look like sports sheds, which may not yield any food, but there might be something else useful inside—while Donovan and Lee take a large window to the left, climbing inside quietly. That leaves me with Ethan, and we take small, light steps towards the front door. It’s a large wooden door, the varnish has worn away in patches, and there are a few scratch marks, but nothing to indicate that there may be a hoard of zombies waiting inside.
Ethan slowly turns the big brass handle, and the door swings open; he goes to take a step forward, but I hear something click inside. Grabbing Ethan’s rucksack, I pull him backwards just as an axe on a beam swings down and narrowly misses his head. Someone doesn’t want us getting inside, which makes me even more desperate to take this school apart brick by brick. There are obviously supplies inside, and not only that, but it’s almost a fortified school, the huge stone wall, big doors, metal gates keeping whoever is hiding in the shadows safe. We could use a place like this. We’ll need it, especially when winter comes. We grew tired, weak, and slowed down while the zombies stayed the same. They weren’t affected by the cold or the rain like we were. I fucking hated them; they had ruined everything.
“What the hell was that?” Ethan hisses as I let go of him.
“Someone doesn’t want us here,” I whisper back.
“Man, I don’t want to be here. But if we don’t find some food soon…”
I just nod, I know what’s at stake. We all do.
We get into the hall with no other mishaps, but we do spot two more trip wires hooked up this time to some chimes. It’s an alarm system. Whoever is hiding in here isn’t taking any chances on being caught unaware. We spot a dining room down the corridor and to our left, and I see Donovan and Lee heading towards it. They’ve got the food covered, so Ethan and I decide to head to the right. We walk past classrooms, all deserted, a thick layer of dust covering everything. I can see a few marks where things have been moved, but it’s mostly undisturbed. There are a few smashed windows, but someone had attempted to repair them, cardboard or wood covering them. Damp climbs the walls in most of the rooms, leaving moss and greenery to grow freely, but it isn’t as bad as expected.
We find a back staircase and carefully tiptoe up to the first floor. There’s a huge crack as Ethan’s foot goes through the wood, his step splinte
ring beneath him. I move back just as something black falls from above, coating him from head to toe. Feathers begin to fall around us, sticking to Ethan, and I almost want to laugh. We wait a moment or two to see if anything else happens, and when it doesn’t, I hook my arms under his armpits and pull him free.
“Today is not my fucking day, mate,” he groans as he tries to wipe some of the paint out of his eyes.
I motion for him to keep moving, but he raises a brow at me. “Fuck that. You go first.”
I grin at him as I squeeze past and get onto the landing. There is barbed wire nailed to the walls, zig-zagging through the space, so it’s impossible to get across without taking it all down or hurting ourselves. It’s not a bad zombie trap, although it would only buy time and not keep them out permanently.
“Let’s try another route,” I say to Ethan, taking a step backwards. Something down the corridor catches my eye as it moves. Someone was watching us.
“Are we going to let them get away?”
“Fuck,” I growl, taking off my rucksack. I put it in front of me and push my way through the barbed wire. Ethan does the same, and between us, we manage to get through with only a few scratches.
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