No Longer Alone (House of Garner Book 1)

by Erin R Flynn

  If you did, thank you. Thank you for respecting me and other authors for their hard work, understanding this is our job, and while we love it, we do deserve to be compensated for all the hours, and hours, and hours we put into it.

  If you did not… Go buy one! You are a thief and your parents and grandparents and cute animals all around the world are ashamed of you. There is no justification for committing this crime because it is a crime, no different than walking into a physical bookstore, taking a print copy off the shelf, and walking out of the store without paying for it.

  There is no such thing as a victimless crime. If you truly believe that, you’ve never been a victim. And the victims aren’t only the authors, but the fans who lose authors that quit over our constantly being stolen from and mistreatment. Mistreating the authors that write the books you like or read—not liking them isn’t an excuse for theft, it’s just extra weird then—that’s not a fan. Fans leave reviews to support. Fans send messages of love. Fans… Well fans are nice. Be nice.

  There are lots of ways to fight eBook piracy, reporting the site even if you’re not the copyright holder is always a good option. If you want to help in the fight, Google it and you can see there are many ways.

  My name is Inez Garner, and my story has sort of been told… But not. I’m turning twenty-three and find out I’m not human; I’m apparently a vampire. Sure, who hasn’t read that story? Oh, but I’m a princess. And there’s a zombie apocalypse—although I’m debating where the line is of apocalypse vs. post-apocalypse. There’s also a quest that I’m compelled to be on, and it might all be coming from the Goddess.

  Awesome. It seems She has big plans for me. And I have to deal with ghosts. When I kill corrupted—the nice PC name people call zombies, as it’s not their fault they eat people—I then have to deal with their ghosts. Which is super when being hunted for years by some guys I don’t want to know better.

  Add to everything, I have to apologize to heroines for judging them when they fall in bed with the hot guy and buy the story he gives. I get it now. Sex is splendid. I’m not one to believe a con, but he’s got answers I need, like why I have no memories before I was eighteen.

  Plus, the fangs sort of sold it for me. I hope he forgives me for shooting him.

  House of Garner is an apocalyptic hot burning WhyChoose romance with darker elements, strong language, violence, and a heroine that doesn’t let anyone get in her way.

  1

  “Oh, I wish I were an Oscar Meyer wiener,” the man no one else but me could see sang as he danced around the shuttle boat that was taking us to land.

  I swallowed a sigh and wished he actually turned into one and not just because I was starving. No, the fucking ghost had been singing the damn jingle for the past hour since the announcement we were arriving at our destination. The whole trip had been difficult, but at least it had meant over a week of being safe.

  For once.

  The formerly luxurious cruise ship that I had booked passage on wouldn’t dock at shore; instead, groups of us at a time would ride the shuttle boat. There probably wasn’t a place for it to dock, and more than that, the owner of the ship wasn’t stupid enough to risk there could be a group waiting to take it over.

  There was no way to know if the stories of gangs taking ships over and doing what they wanted with the passengers were true… But why risk it?

  “Oh, I wish I were,” the man started again.

  I let out a heavy sigh, and my head fell back to the wall.

  “You get sea sick?” a man asked next to me. He was alive and others could see him, but I wanted him gone too. He looked at me in a way I didn’t like, and I really didn’t want to have to get into a fight the second I reached shore.

  “Something like that,” I grumbled, ignoring him when he tried to talk me into letting him help me.

  Right, because that wouldn’t come at a cost. How these same kind of slimy guys still thought there were any stupid, helpless prey for them to snatch up made me want to laugh. No, those sort of people were gone.

  I hoped so for their sakes.

  “It’s not happening,” I stated firmly when the motor cut, telling me we were almost to shore.

  Another round of the Oscar Meyer jingle started, and I was seconds from just blowing my lid. I about booked it with my rucksack to the exit the second the boat stopped. A couple of the crew from the main ship who was ferrying us gave me a look like I was stupid. Yeah, few ever wanted to be the ones first off a boat and into possible danger.

  True, but since I was running from serious danger, I saw possible danger as an upgrade. And I wanted to put some distance between me and the place the ship landed even if that serious danger wouldn’t be right behind me.

  It wasn’t like there were fast, easy, and constant ways to travel anymore.

  Plus, I knew the score and how a ship coming would draw all kinds of attention from people arriving and leaving, both sides deluded into thinking they could find better on the other end of their journey. There wasn’t better. We were all fucked, and a lot of times I wasn’t sure why any of us tried even fighting the inevitable.

  I was down the gangplank and jogging away from the boat the second I could, my live stalker problem forgotten… While the singing ghost would reappear. He’d find me again. They always did.

  I wondered for the fifty millionth time if others had their own ghosts follow them. I knew no one saw the ones I did, but sometimes I thought others must see the ghosts of the corrupted they killed. I mean, I couldn’t be the only one to have killed them. I’d met and seen teams that went specifically to hunt them and where they gathered.

  I just didn’t know if they saw the ghosts of the people they had been before becoming corrupted. And I still didn’t know why people just didn’t call them zombies. Like “corrupted” sounded any less horrifying? Like it would be offensive to the undead if they were called zombies?

  Did someone worry about a trademark violation from movies no one could watch anymore?

  Eventually my ghost would lose its energy and dissipate, leaving behind a seed.

  Yup, a fucking seed. Like that would be of use to someone on the run. You know what would have helped? Diamonds. Gold. That would have been great. I mean, that should be the least they did if they tried to eat me, then annoyed the shit out of me after I killed them. At least give a damn diamond for setting them free, right? They were undead, but apparently their souls were trapped if I freed their ghosts.

  Would a diamond really be too much to ask for that? Even a tiny diamond. That would be nice. But no, a seed.

  And worse was I kept them all. It was so stupid when on the run, but I couldn’t seem to toss them. I even felt bad when I didn’t find the seed after a ghost dissipated like if I was asleep or it hadn’t caught up to me yet. My heart ached.

  Maybe I was one of those stupid, helpless prey after all.

  “Hey, I could use a pretty girl like you,” someone said as he grabbed my arm.

  I had my Glock pulled from the back of my pants and touching his groin before he even finished. “I’m unavailable.”

  “Got it,” he whispered, feeling the gun or seeing his death in my eyes—I wasn’t sure which or both—and dropped my arm. He backed away with his hands held up in surrender and ducked into the crowd, probably to make sure I didn’t shoot him for sport or so he could look for the next “pretty girl” coming off the ship who might not be armed.

  I kept the gun out as I started jogging again, making my way to the outskirts of the town we’d landed in. It was in what was once North Carolina, an East Coast state of the United States. I’d been born in the US, I knew that from my ID, but there wasn’t
much of a US or any country left.

  There certainly wasn’t border patrol or customs like there once had been.

  Not that I remembered any of that.

  Once I was far enough away from the ship and the crowds thinned out, I slowed down and tucked the gun away. My stomach growled loudly when I smelled something heavenly. I followed the scent and found myself standing at a food truck. There were a few people in front of me, and I raised an eyebrow at the sign that promised they were real 100% beef tacos.

  Apparently the disbelief was still on my face when it was my turn because the guy chuckled. “So you’re not from around here. There aren’t too many cities near here, and the farm land wasn’t hit too bad. There are several farms still holding out.”

  “And no corrupted have hit them?” I asked, finding that shocking as well.

  He nodded. “A lot of survivors in Virginia realized that the cities were most dangerous, as DC was one of the first hit along with Norfolk, so we got a lot of military and first responders here. It’s safe.” He gave me a onceover. “We could use a young, strong woman to do her duty and help our community.”

  I fought the urge to cuss him out, my hunger overruling my outrage as I knew what “duty” women had to him. Now that I knew this was a “religious” town, I wanted out of there even more. They were no more than cults, blabbing they were left behind from the apocalypse to save the rest and the sins we all committed was the reason and blah, blah, blah, and bullshit. It was all bullshit.

  Still, he had the food I wanted, so I played the part, knowing it was the quickest way to stay under the radar. I gave him a docile smile. “I’m honored you think me fitting, but I’ve traveled far with updates from my community to one where I have an intended waiting.”

  He gave me a suspicious look. “Alone? Unescorted?”

  I nodded. “If I cannot survive one journey that is but a few weeks, how will I ever endure or have the strength needed a mother must have? A wife? Plus, my community is female heavy and the trade was needed for males there.”

  He slapped on a smile like he believed me, but I saw the suspicion in his eyes. He asked where, and I gave the right answers, having played the game lots, knowing when to blend as a crazy cult member or crazy gang member.

  There wasn’t all that much difference in my book. Both were bat shit fucking crazy.

  “Well, good for you. Too many females nowadays aren’t taking their duty seriously,” he muttered, shaking his head as if he had any right to judge anyone. “Thinking on their own and not following our lord’s plan is just sinful.”

  Someone huffed behind me, giving me the perfect out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hold up your line.”

  “You didn’t, honey, they just get impatient.” He gave me a wink. “What can I get you to fuel you for the rest of your journey?”

  I bit my lower lip, still playing the game. “The food on the ship was horrible and I hate to be a glutton, but real beef would be good to store up some fat for right after the marriage.” I moved my hand to my cheek as if I was blushing. “I know why this trial is needed, but sometimes it’s so hard to decide.”

  “You are a good girl,” he praised. “It’s not selfish or being a glutton when you’re thinking of the babes you will have. Order what you can, and I’ll help you out. Our lord would want it.”

  Sure, like any god cared. Idiot. Whatever, it got me two huge containers of tacos and a sports drink for a gram of gold. I winked at the woman two back in the line who gave me a disgusted glare. Understanding filled her eyes, and then she looked about ready to laugh.

  Yeah, I would have wanted to smack any woman who bought into that cult bullshit as well. My “duty” was whatever the fuck I said it was, not bearing children because I was responsible for continuing the human race.

  How was it my fault that the adults had fucked up so badly and the apocalypse had come before I was even eighteen?

  And the helpful, Bible thumping idiot had even drawn me a map of how to get to the main road out of town. Awesome. I had lied and said I was staying at an inn after he realized the time but still made sure to help a good girl like me that was such a lost lamb so I knew where to go in the morning.

  That should help his self-righteousness and give him something to brag about for a while, completely stupid to how he’d just gotten played. I could have found it all myself, but that would mean taking the time to pull my map out of my rucksack and risking people see I had more gold or take advantage of my distraction.

  Right at the edge of town, I found exactly what I was looking for, pumping my fist at my luck. Glancing around, I saw no one watching and then hurried over to the electric car that seemed in the best shape. I was very fond of this new trend where settlements of survivors or towns pushed them out of the way. It started a lot less shit for me since people freaked when they saw me in an electric car.

  Since there wasn’t, like, electricity anymore.

  I found it unlocked with the keys in it, smiling when it wasn’t even nasty inside. Yeah, cult town, no one doing dirty things in unusable vehicles. If the tires and rest of it were in good order, I could use this baby to drive all around the continent to evade my pursuers.

  Taking a deep breath and glancing around again to make sure I was alone, I quickly put all my stuff inside before heading to the charging cap. I opened it and put my hand where the plug was supposed to go for the charging station. It took me a few moments to tap into the charge in me, my body down on its own tank, but I got enough out of me and into the car for what I needed.

  I hurried back to the driver’s seat and got dizzy as I reached for the door. I just needed to get out of there while I could, and then I could refuel and really rest.

  Well, for a bit at least. Once the sun set, any corrupted in the area would immediately sniff me out.

  Yeah, I didn’t just have pursuers and trouble chasing me, but something about me made me a fucking beacon for corrupted. I had no idea why. Yes, they hunted people and wanted to eat us, make us like them, but I must have smelled extra, extra something to them. Part of me was terrified why that would be because I didn’t think it was a good answer.

  Like I had been infected to be one of them and they smelled out their buddy. But I didn’t change, I had no symptoms. Still, finding answers had consequences, and who would I really ask? I could ask ten people what happened and how it had all started, and I would get at least fifteen answers.

  Hell, I’d heard dozens over the years, and none of them sounded like the full truth.

  I let out a huge whoosh of breath when the engine started right up. I threw the shifter into drive and headed out while no one was still around. Seconds after I found the turnoff for the highway I needed, the ghost appeared in the back seat, scaring the shit out of me. No matter how many times it happened, I just could not get used to it.

  “Because Oscar I wish loves then me,” he sang quietly, frowning and looking heartbreakingly sad.

  I swallowed loudly, knowing he would dissipate soon if he couldn’t even remember the short jingle. At first I had made the mistake of talking to the ghosts, learning from them what I could, and at least trying for answers, but after the first several, I’d stopped. They were already dead, so it was stupid of me to care when they disappeared, but I was all alone and on the run.

  Even having a ghost to talk to had been better than nothing or the trouble the living could bring. But I felt the loss when they were gone.

  Ignoring the fact I’d killed them.

  Yeah, my life was severely fucked up.

  I ate my tacos as I drove, moaning they were still warm and fresh even if the meat wasn’t as rare as I’d liked. It had been forever since I’d gotten a rare steak or burger that was real beef. The idea of it almost made me consider playing that guy or cult a little longer, but I’d fallen into their traps a few times.

  Apparently to some, their lord believed in locking women up to do their “duty,” and brainwashing them wasn’t off the table either. Those
had been some bitch situations to escape from, so now I made sure not to ever even play their game and take the offered shower or anything else that sounded so good. It was never worth it in the end.

  Never.

  I reached the suburbs of Raleigh in a few hours, thrilled to not find any evidence of bomb destruction or radiation. So it hadn’t been a big enough city to be cleansed or attacked by another country at the peak of the confusion as they’d assumed it was a biological attack instead of… Whatever had really happened.

  I took the next exit and saw evidence of places being raided by survivors. Made sense especially if that settlement had the resources to scout for more and taking out as many corrupted as possible would keep them safer.

  It also meant I had to be careful where I picked to gather resources as well. This close to dark no sane person would be caught dead in a city.

  I never said I was sane.

  Driving a bit further, I found a strip mall that seemed not to be fully picked over. Sure, the jewelry store was completely trashed, people taking the risk for gold, and the Home Depot looked absolutely raided… But the Dick’s Sporting Goods didn’t. Probably the weapons, but there was a chance for other equipment I would need and had left behind in Europe.

  A few minutes later I wanted to thank my lucky stars and also swear up a storm. If I was seriously lucky enough to find ammo and a lot of what I needed, fate would fuck me over and soon. Like really soon if my track record was anything to go by.

  Especially once I found a huge stash of water purification tablets, which could be more valuable than gold in some areas. Damn, I was running out of time, and I had wanted to find a place for a real shower. It only took me a few moments to decide that supplies were more important and I could find a lake to bathe in. It was spring, but spring wasn’t what it used to be, and I was more adaptable to the cold than most.

  I loaded the whole trunk with weapons, driving the full carts to the vehicle parked right at the door. I even grabbed a few bows and tons of arrows, as that gave me a chance to do some hunting and not draw attention.