Red Eye: Season Three, Episode One: An Armageddon Zombie Survival Thriller

by Eli Constant

  Nolan. It was Nolan.

  I stiffened, trying to block Sam’s view. If I knew who it was, she sure as hell would too, and then I was completely fucked.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” She grabbed my upper arm and peered around my body. She gasped.

  I waited for the bomb to drop.

  For her to call out his name.

  For her to yell at me to do something even though we both knew I wasn’t going to do jack shit about it.

  I waited and waited for something.

  But the bomb didn’t drop.

  “What are they doing to him? He’s alive. Tell them to stop!” Her fingers dug into my arm as anger and fear gripped her, and I had a feeling that if I looked at her right then her eyes would have that same freaky pink tinge to them that I’d noticed more and more.

  “This is Smiley’s territory, Sam. Not mine. Come on.” I dragged her away, thankful as fuck that she hadn’t realized it was Nolan. She shrunk into my side as we walked and the man behind us moaned from the pain.

  Sooner or later I was going to have to tell her.

  There was no way out of it.

  But it seemed, for now, luck was on my side.

  Episode 2 coming

  October 22nd!

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  Claire C. Riley is a USA Today and International Bestselling author.

  She’s a genre-jumping book nerd who likes to write about psycho stalkers, anti-heroes, and the end of the bloody world!

  Gryffindor. Targaryen. Zombie slayer.

  She lives in the United Kingdom with her husband, three daughters, and ridiculously naughty rescue beagle, Dogface. She loves clothes with pockets in (especially dresses) is a huge Julia Roberts fan and wants Jack Nicholson to narrate her life story.

  She also hates the word gushing.

  Also by Claire C. Riley

  Post-Apocalypse/dystopian:

  Odium The Dead Saga series

  Odium Origins Series

  Out of the Dark

  Red Eye The Armageddon Series – co-authored with Eli Constant

  Thicker than Blood Series – co-authored with Madeline Sheehan

  Paranormal Romance:

  Limerence. (The Obsession Series)

  Limerence II (The Obsession Series)

  Twisted Magic Raven’s Cove

  Romantic suspense/thriller:

  Beautiful Victim

  Fragments of Delores

  Horror:

  Blood Claim

  MC Romance:

  Ride or Die a Devil’s Highwaymen series

  Nomad the Devil’s Highwaymen Series:

  Crank #1, Sketch #2, Battle #3, Fighter #4, Cowboy #5

  Tame his Beast parts 1 & 2

  New Adult Romance:

  Wrath #3 the Elite Seven Series

  Contemporary Romance:

  Shut Up & Kiss Me

  Available in paperback, eBook, and audiobook, and almost all in Kindle Unlimited!

  CONTACT LINKS:

  Website: www.clairecriley.com

  Claire C. Riley FB page: https://www.facebook.com/ClaireCRileyAuthor/

  Amazon: http://amzn.to/1GDpF3I

  Reader Group: Riley’s Rebels: https://www.facebook.com/groups/ClaireCRileyFansGroup/

  Newsletter Sign-up: http://bit.ly/2xTY2bx

  IG: https://www.instagram.com/redheadapocalypse/

  @ClaireCRiley

  Eli Constant, also writing under the pens Eliza Grace & Ellie Meadows, is the author of The Victoria Cage Necromancer Series.

  A diverse speculative fiction author, seeped in heady flavors of horror and the paranormal, Eli isn’t afraid to be a bleeding-heart non-conformist & she supports the LGBTQ community, equal rights and treatment for minority communities, the importance of the arts in education, a woman’s right to choose, free speech, and more. Generally, she thinks ‘treat others how you want to be treated’ is the damn golden rule to beat all others, but she also recognizes there are times when kindness has to give way to self-preservation and social revolution.

  She lives in the states with her loving husband, three daughters, and whoodle pup Miles. Also, if there’s good sushi around, don’t get in her way.

  Keep in touch with the author online.

  http://www.authoreliconstant.com

  Twitter – Eli Constant

  Facebook – Eli Constant

  Facebook – Joint Fan Page

  Instagram @Poe.Some.Sugar.On.Me

  Books by Eli Constant:

  The Victoria Cage Series

  Garden of Lilies

  Water of Souls

  Body of Ash

  Hellhole Bay [arriving end of 2020]

  Junkyard Fae [arriving 2021]

  Cat O’Shea Shifter Novels

  A Victoria Cage Spin-off

  Catfights in Faeland [arriving 2021]

  Pixie Dust Panic [arriving 2021]

  The Dead Tree Series

  Invasion

  Lifelines

  Hybrids [arriving end of 2020]

  Futurity [arriving 2021]

  The Shadow Forest Series

  Eliza Grace

  Magic Burned

  Spell Tricked

  Curse Kissed

  A Shade of Hades

  Eliza Grace

  The Lottery

  The Harvest [arriving end of 2020]

  The Rapture [arriving 2021]

  King of Castleton

  Ellie Meadows

  Bully

  Brat

  Brawl

  Balls [arriving end of 2020]

  Heart Notes – A College Romance Ellie Meadows

  The Water is Sweeter – A Dark Fantasy Romance Eli Constant

  Scatter My Ashes – A Gothic Romance Eli Constant & Bokerah Brumley

  Cowritten Series

  Red Eye: The Armageddon Series – co-authored with Eli Constant

  Darwin’s Fall – co-authored with B.V. Barr [re-releasing end of 2020]

  Born to Darkness – The Bratva Mafia Twins duet – co-authored with Claire C. Riley

  MORE FROM THE AUTHORS

  Have you read:

  Fragments of Delores by Claire C. Riley

  Perfect home. Perfect wife. Perfect lie.

  Read on for a sneak peak.

  Prologue

  The first slap is always the most painful.

  It brings tears to my eyes. Not from shock, or the horror of the act itself—though I feel both of those things; I always do. The tears are just an automatic reaction, reluctantly set into motion by my own tear ducts. It’s appropriate really, though I detest that they do it.

  The second slap—to the other cheek this time—hardly hurts at all. I feel almost nothing as the rough palm of his hand makes contact with my cheek. I am too in contempt of the first slap for the second one to be painful. His actions—as usual—are repugnant and vile.

  But it is what he does.

  It is how we are.

  I find the roughness of his hands bemusing. For a man like him, doing the type of job he does, his calloused hands are unusual.

  When I don’t react to either slap, he steps closer, invading my personal space and stealing the air from my lungs. Or at least that’s how it seems. But that’s probably just the fear talking.

  However I don’t back down. I don’t step back from him. I don’t retort with the things that I want to say; the uncouth words that roll uselessly around in my head with nothing and nowhere to land, because I will not ever say them to him: I am too proud and head-strong to beg for help, or to plead with him to stop.

  His top lip curls up in disdain at my nonchalance of him and his brooding hazel eyes bore into mine. Then his too-large hand reaches out and grips my throat and he slams my body against the wall behind me. I was only a step away from it; I must have stepped backwards without even realising, and my head snaps back and bangs against the hard wall. So hard I almost see stars. I grunt in pain, and I see the glint of joy in his eyes at this; at my pain. It is always t
he same. I have fed the beast now.

  I feel fear, but I refuse to show it to him, knowing that this is what he wants. Like a incubus he feeds off of me.

  I grit my teeth and steady my feet. My hands turning into tiny, feeble fists at my sides. Because I won’t back down this time.

  ‘I won’t,’ I tell myself. ‘Not this time.’

  I already know that I’m lying. But we do what we need to survive.

  He leans in and smiles. The heady stench of Scotch is on his breath. And then he kisses me, hard. There is nothing romantic or loving about his gesture. The only things it shows is his will to control me.

  The pressure of his lips on mine are more painful than the slaps to my cheeks. My bottom lip is split and it opens wider from his ferocious kiss. My blood mingles into both of our mouths, mixing with our saliva and the metallic taste of it spurs him on.

  His hand paws at one of my breasts and the other releases my neck to reach down for the hem of my skirt. I open up to him, allowing him the space for his kiss to go deeper, his tongue moving across mine, and our teeth clashing.

  In my head I am saying no.

  In my head I am refusing him. Refusing this and all of his bullshit.

  But it is all in my head, because in reality it is easier to accept this than to not.

  Because I am his wife and this is my duty.

  And more, this is exactly what I deserve.

  Chapter One

  Delores

  Delores sipped her coffee.

  The bitter black liquid burned her oesophagus as she swallowed down the too hot fluid. She didn’t wince though. Didn’t complain. Just took another sip and stared blankly out of the window at the heat-soaked highway.

  So much had happened.

  So much.

  And yet, equally, so much remained the same.

  The deeply planted ache was there though. It was always there now. A heavy burdensome feeling that filled her bones and made her skin itch from the inside out. A feeling of a thunderstorm, brewing in the distance. Clouds, heavy with the pregnancy of unshed tears ready to collapse from the sky at a moment’s notice.

  “You sure you don’t want some pie with that? Coffee always taste better with a slice of pie.”

  Delores looked up at the overly friendly waitress. She read her little white name tag—Sally. Sally spoke with a drawl that didn’t sound familiar to the area, over pronouncing the I in the word pie so that it sounded more like a y. Her auburn hair was piled high up on her head in a tight ponytail, a slight kink to the end of it that hinted at hidden curls.

  She was pretty—pretty without even trying. The kind of woman that would have been cheerleader captain in high school and most definitely crowned prom queen. And yet now, her life was this: serving coffee to truckers in a diner just off the highway. A dead-end job that would lead to a dead-end future unless she escaped soon. Yet, her face was kind. Tired but kind, and still full of so much life.

  Life. Life was so short.

  You never really understood how short it was until it was too late.

  Until you blinked and your reflection was no longer that of your youthful self. Instead you were looking in dismay at your sagging skin and tired eyes. But still, life went on. Until it didn’t, of course. Until the last breath left you as quickly and abruptly as the first breath had come. Like the slap of air into a baby’s lungs right after being birthed into a strange and frightening world.

  “No thank you, just the coffee will do,” Delores replied.

  She wondered, for a brief moment, if Sally still had all of her hopes and dreams. Her aspirations for a better life far from here. She wondered if she dreamed of more than this; the right here and the right now. She looked like she did. Even with the creeping tiredness around her eyes, and the worry that was hidden behind her perfect, too-sweet smile. Yes, it was plain to see that this woman still dreamed. She still hoped. Unlike Delores.

  “You sure? Because you know, my grandpa always used to say that a problem always seemed easier to work through with a belly full of pie.” Sally smiled again, leaning over the counter to refill Delores cup, her low-cut top revealing too much cleavage. But it was unintentional, not deliberate in any way. The uniform was too tight for her and she pulled at the top half self-consciously. Unhappy, but not complaining. She smiled wider, her eyes meeting Delores’s.

  “Your grandpa sounds like a wise man.” Delores smiled though the expression never reached her eyes. “But I’m not hungry.”

  They stared at each other for a quiet moment. Two women, alike in so many ways, and yet so very different. Where Sally still had life burning bright inside of her—her spirit still fighting, still clawing for existence—Delores had nothing but blackness.

  And she had no one to blame but herself.

  Sally still held hope, but Delores never would again.

  The pretty waitress patted Delores’s hand kindly before wandering off to serve someone else and Delores turned her attention to the world outside the steamed-up window of the rundown diner.

  Summer was at full height. The bright July sun burning down on the cracked blacktop and sending heat waves up into the sky. It was hypnotic, staring at them, watching the strange steam dancing, like souls being released to the heavens. They seemed restless and empowered all at the same time.

  Delores sighed heavily.

  Restless. Yeah, she knew that feeling. She was restless too. But she didn’t feel empowered, she felt weak, like something had been stolen from her. There was an empty space buried deep inside her and no matter how much she tried to fill the space, it was like there was a hole in the bottom of it and everything leaked back out.

  The only thing that remained was the horror of what she’d done.

  The blood, the cries, the terror that gripped her heart.

  And then the emptiness that remained after it.

  The blankness that lived inside of her, mocking her fragility.

  Her head throbbed; there was so much in there, trapped inside her skull begging to get out, but when she reached for the desperate thoughts, they slithered away like worms hiding from the sun.

  She looked down into her coffee cup again, the inky liquid almost magnetic in its pull on her. She picked it up and took a long swallow, the bitterness sliding down her parched throat. Ironic really, that she would be thankful for a mouth full of bad coffee.

  How life changes, ebbing backwards and forwards, forever shifting like the tide of the ocean, and yet, all the while going nowhere.

  But not Delores. She was going somewhere. She had a place to be, a reason for living, for breathing. At least for the moment.

  When she got there, to her destination, her torment would be over, forever.

  Everyone’s would be over.

  She’d get what she deserved, and she accepted that fate with ease.

  It was, after all, the very least she deserved.

  She sighed again and stood up, before pulling the slender straps of her purse over her thin shoulder, and placed money on the counter for her coffee.

  Delores pushed open the outer door of the small truck stop diner and paused on its threshold. The heat moved over her chilled body, her body absorbing it into her flushed skin to wipe away the coolness of the air-conditioning inside. It was a relief, though one she knew she wasn’t worthy of.

  No, she didn’t even deserve bad coffee and cool air. She didn’t deserve anything. Ever again.

  Not after the atrocity she had committed.

  “Sweetie?”

  Delores turned back around and found the waitress standing behind her. Sally winced at the visible torture trapped in Delores’s features before continuing speaking. “I know you said that you wasn’t hungry but I got you some pie to take out. It’s on me.”

  Sally held out her hand, a medium white Styrofoam container in it. Delores blinked, and her lips parted to speak, but she had no idea what to say. How could she thank this woman for the thoughtful gesture? It was a kindness that she hadn’
t earned after all.

  If only she knew what she’d done. What an evil person she really was.

  She wouldn’t be offering her pie. No Sir.

  She’d be doing something much worse.

  Sally shook her head and pressed the container into Delores’s hand. “Take it, please. You look like you could do with this more than these overweight truck drivers.” She forced a small laugh that held no real humour, and Delores willed her mouth to smile, to give something back to this woman who was being kind to her.

  If only she knew…

  “I…”

  Sally shook her head again. “It’s just a piece of pie, it’s no big expense.”

  Delores nodded and took the pie. “Thank you. It’s an expense you didn’t have to make…you don’t even know me.”

  Sally waved her off, tucking a small strand of hair which had come loose behind her ear. “I don’t need to know you. I’m not blind, I can see that you’re not okay.” Sally pressed her hands into the front pocket of her apron. “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business.”

  Delores clasped the small container of pie to her body, her eyes not being able to meet Sally’s. She nodded, unsure of what to say.

  “Thank you,” Delores finally said, her voice quiet and unsure.

  “It’s really no problem. You take care of yourself now, okay?”

  Delores finally looked up at Sally, letting their eyes connect. Her shame and grief were visible even to this woman who didn’t know her, and Sally took a step backwards. A small frown pulling at her features.

  “Sally! Get your sweet ass back to work!”

  Both Delores and Sally turned to look at a middle-aged man yelling across the diner at her. Delores watched the waitress, seeing her shoulders round as she took a deep breath, yet when she turned around, her smile was back in place.