by M. D. Massey
Arthur tries to argue but I ignore him, looking everyone else over. There has to be someone else I can plead the case for. Someone who possesses a skill Mitchell would find useful. But I can’t think of anyone. Unfortunately, most of us are useless in this kind of situation.
“Fine,” Mitchell says. “They can come. I can always use a maid.”
“I can’t just leave you all out here,” Sophia says. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“You have to go,” Jessica tells her. “For the kids, for your baby. We’ll be fine.”
Sophia’s eyes fill with tears as she looks us all over. No one looks at her with anger or malice.
“Okay,” she whispers.
Mitchell lifts his gun. He turns it on Sophia. “No one else. If you try to stop me, I’ll shoot her first.”
“Bastard,” Axl mutters.
“Get your shit, we’re going,” Mitchell barks at the others.
Sophia runs by me, and Joshua and Arthur follow. My chest is tight, but knowing they’ll be going in helps ease the disappointment.
Mitchell looks at me with an evil sneer on his face. “I could always use a little entertainment. Strippers are useful even after the world has ended. What do you say?”
“Fuck you,” Axl growls, stepping in front of me.
“What he said,” I say.
Mitchell glares at us. “This is why I was rich and you were poor. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get ahead. Do me a favor. When a zombie bites your face off, remember that I offered.”
I look away and bite my tongue. Literally. We can’t piss him off. He could change his mind.
Sophia comes back with her things. She’s crying and she stops briefly when she goes by me, leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek.
“Don’t go. We will get you in,” she whispers.
I want to tell her to be careful, but I’m afraid to give her away.
“I’m going through this door and into the building. If you follow me, if anyone even opens the door, I will kill little Ava.” He gives us an evil smile and looks straight at me. “Don’t think anyone wants to see another dead little girl today, do they?”
Axl swears and starts to step forward, but I grab his arm and stop him. I lace my fingers through his and stare up at him, shaking my head while the storm rages in his eyes.
Mitchell and the others go inside. My eyes are closed, so I don’t see it. When the door clicks shut, it’s like a punch in the stomach.
“Now what?” Jessica asks.
“We wait.” I open my eyes. “For the night at least. Give them time to talk to whoever else is inside. Maybe there’s someone with some decency, someone who will let us in.”
“If not?” Parvarti asks.
I look over toward Angus and Axl. “We go back to our original plan.”
“We got ‘nough gas for one car to get back to Vegas,” Axl says. “If it comes to that, we’ll have to send a car out to get more before we can all go.”
“In the meantime, let’s rest and get something to eat. Maybe we can get a fire started,” Winston says.
There isn’t a lot around since we’re out in the desert, but we manage to find enough sticks and tumbleweeds to use for firewood. It’s still warm, but the sun will be going down soon, and then the temperature will drop.
I work quietly, lighting the fire without help from anyone while the men bring boxes of food out of the car. With nine of us, the food we have won’t last long, but no one wants to wander too far away from the building. Just in case the door does open.
People sit around the fire or in the cars, too dejected to really talk. I sit next to Axl, staring into the flames and eating a peanut butter sandwich made from the last of the bread.
“How’d you learn to do that?” Axl asks, tilting his head toward the fire.
“My dad. Things were never good. He was always a hard ass, but before my mom left they weren’t awful. That was before he started using me as a punching bag.”
Axl purses his lips. “What was his weapon of choice?”
I shudder, remembering the dreams from when I was sick. Roger standing over me with a leather belt in his hand. “Belt, most of the time. If he couldn’t find that, he’d just use his fists.” I preferred the belt, but I don’t say that out loud. The leather stung and it left huge welts on my body. But the feeling of bone hitting bone…I’ll never be able to get that out of my mind.
“My mom liked to slap me around,” Axl says. He frowns into the fire. “‘Til I got bigger. Guess she thought a simple slap was too good for me. That’s when she started chuckin’ things at me. Books, plates, full beer cans.” He points to the scar on his chin. “That there was an ashtray. Broke when it hit me, left a big gash.”
“Why you talkin’ ‘bout that shit?” Angus asks.
Axl shrugs and sits back in his chair. “Just somethin’ to do.”
“God, this sucks,” Al mutters, tossing an empty wrapper into the fire. The plastic sizzles and melts. It’s gone in seconds.
“You coulda gone,” Axl tells him. “Nobody woulda faulted you.”
“No way. That guy was a prick. What if he’s the only one in there? You think I want to be stuck with that guy for the rest of my life?” Al shakes his head.
I stare at a tiny piece of black plastic. All that’s left of the wrapper. It looks how I feel. Burned and shriveled. Discarded. “At least Sophia and the kids are safe.”
Axl gives me a half-smile. When he gives me that look of approval, it makes me feel like I’m ten feet tall. “Yeah, that was good thinkin’ on your part.”
A loud moan fills the night sky and everyone stops talking.
“Was that a zombie?” Jessica asks, jumping to her feet.
“It can’t be,” I say. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
We all sit quietly, huddled around the campfire as we stare out into the desert. The sun is setting and the sky just above the horizon is painted a brilliant shade of orange that gets darker as it reaches into the sky. Makes it difficult to see very far. My heartbeat echoes through my chest, a steady thumping that keeps me on edge. I strain my ears, hoping against hope that the sound was some kind of animal. Deep down, I know it wasn’t.
“Maybe it’s just a straggler,” Winston says. “Someone who got sick while they were out hiking or something and couldn’t make it back.”
“Yeah, that’s gotta be it.” Angus spits into the fire. It sizzles and the fire crackles, and another moan breaks through the air. This time it’s followed by more.
“Shit,” Axl says, getting to his feet. “We gotta get that gate shut.”
“It doesn’t have a lock,” I call. “What good is that going to do if they can open doors?”
“We gotta find somethin’ to lock it with,” Angus says. “Don’t we got some zip ties in the car somewhere?”
Axl nods and the brothers run to the Nissan in search of them while Winston heads to the gate. I grab my gun and run after him with Al and Trey right behind me.
“Here they come!” Al yells.
It’s so bright. How can he see them? He must have perfect vision, because it takes me a few seconds of searching the desert before I can make them out. But he’s right. They’re coming, and not slowly.
“You guys got those zip ties yet?” I call.
“Still lookin’!” Axl yells back.
I glance over at Al. He’s unarmed. “Al, go get a gun!”
He smacks himself on the forehead and runs back toward the cars. Jessica and Parvarti huddle together by the fire. Anne heads our way. She’s loaded down with weapons.
“Look how many of them are out there,” Winston says.
My pulse takes off and I start counting, but stop at thirty. We’re fenced in, but this chain link isn’t going to last long against a big mob.
“It looks like they’re wearing military uniforms,” Anne says.
“Area 51!” Al yells excitedly when he comes to a stop next to me. He waves his gun toward the desert. �
�I bet we’re close to area 51!”
“That’s a good thing?” I ask. Will military training make them more deadly? Probably won’t hurt.
“Got ‘em.” Axl runs up behind us and slips a zip tie through the latch on the fence.
“Not sure if it’s going to help,” Winston says. “Many more of them show up and they’ll probably be able to push this fence down.
“What do we do?” I ask. “Do we take cover in the cars and hope they don’t spot us or do we start shooting?”
“I think it’s too late to hide,” Anne says.
Trey bounces around on the balls of his feet. He reminds me of a football player right before a big game. “So shoot, then?”
Winston looks at Axl and shrugs. “I don’t think we have any other options.”
They’re closing in on us now, and judging by the moaning they know we’re here. It’s getting darker, but the fenced area is well lit—probably for the helicopter—making us an easy target.
“Wait till you’re sure you got a good shot,” Axl says. “We got plenty of ammo, but who knows how many more are out there.”
Every time the wind blows I catch a whiff of decay and my stomach lurches. “Shit,” I mutter, trying to control my shaking hands. “I didn’t think we were going to die today.”
“It’s as good a day as any.” Axl aims his gun and takes the first shot.
Trey pulls the trigger next, taking a body down. “If they knock this fence down we’re dead for sure.”
We all start shooting after that. The gunfire echoing through the silent desert night is overwhelming. Like a freight train. Bodies fall and the dead scream, but more keep coming. Before long there’s a pile of them just outside the fence.
“They’re never-ending!” I yell, firing my last bullet. I dig in my back pocket for another clip.
Anne sweeps her sweaty hair off her forehead. “What do we do?”
“Keep shootin’!” Angus growls.
My heart jumps to my throat when the first body reaches the fence. He’s only there for a second before someone shoots him in the face, but another replaces him. Then another.
“There must be hundreds!” Al yells.
Before I know it twenty bodies are at the fence. They clutch the chain link and shake it, filling the night with their agonizing screams. We fall back, shooting as we walk. I don’t know where we’re going, but I want to be as far away from that fence as I can when it collapses.
“I’m out!” Anne turns and runs back to the car.
It isn’t long until others run back as well. Soon it’s just me and Angus still firing into the bodies. When my gun clicks and nothing happens, I follow the others. They’re outside the Nissan, getting more guns and ammo ready. Angus only fires three more times before he runs toward us too.
“We got ‘nough fuel in the Explorer, that’s it,” Axl yells. His face is red and sweat drips down his forehead. He wipes it from his eyes and looks us all over. “What’d we do? Make a run for it or try an’ fight ‘em off?”
I don’t know what to say. Leaving would mean giving up all of our supplies, going off into the desert and praying we could find more and make our way in Vegas. It doesn’t sound appealing.
“We have plenty of ammo,” Trey says. “I say we fight.”
“Anyone have a problem with that?” Winston asks.
Moans fill the silence while we stare at each other. Staying could mean death, but so could running. Everyone is breathing heavily, sweating and shaking. Terrified. But no one argues. No one wants to leave our supplies behind. No one wants to run away like a coward.
Axl’s eyes meet mine and everything in me constricts. There are so many things I want to say to him before the end, but there isn’t time. Not with the bodies charging us and everyone around. If only we had a few minutes to ourselves.
“I’m not ready to give up,” I say, loud enough that only he can hear.
Axl swallows and his gray eyes fill with regret. Like he wishes he had more time with me as well. “Then we fight.”
We turn back toward the fence just as the door to the concrete building opens behind us.
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About the Author
Kate L. Mary is an award-winning author of New Adult and Young Adult fiction, ranging from Post-apocalyptic tales of the undead, to Speculative Fiction and Contemporary Romance. Her Young Adult book, When We Were Human, was a 2015 Children’s Moonbeam Book Awards Silver Medal winner for Young Adult Fantasy/Sci-Fi Fiction, and a 2016 Readers’ Favorite Gold Medal winner for Young Adult Science Fiction. Don’t miss out on the Broken World series, an Amazon bestseller and fan favorite. For more information about Kate, check out her website: www.KateLMary.com
Connect with Kate L. Mary online:
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[email protected]
Shattered Lives Book 1: Broken Dreams
Rissa Blakeley
Copyright © 2014, 2018 by Rissa Blakeley. All rights reserved.
Published by Rissa Blakeley.
Cover Art & Design by Cover-It Designs
Edited by Kim’s Fiction Editing Services
Vector Artwork by Gert Erasmus Photo Editing
Photography by Jim Arborgast
E-Book Layout & Design by Ryan Fitzgerald
The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.
Except in the case of brief quotations for the purpose of critical analysis or review, no part of this book may be used, reproduced, or transmitted via any means (electronic, mechanical, or otherwise) without express, written permission from the author.
All artwork used in the Shattered Lives series cannot be reproduced without written permission from the author, the cover art designer, and vector artist, except in the case of approved promotions, critical articles, and reviews.
* * *
Due to the dynamic nature of the Internet, website links contained within this book may be outdated and/or no longer valid.
* * *
Edition: January 2018
Prologue
-October 2012-
That fateful day was like every other for Henry…find a place to hang out and observe the people around him. Some days it was the coffee shop or the bar. Sometimes he would watch people at the gym; other times, he would peruse the aisles of stores, pretending to be interested in what they sold.
He looked for more physically and mentally strong individuals to recruit for the task he had been given. His instructions were to form alliances in order to have people fighting alongside him when everything unfolded. He still had so much more planning to do.
He felt that he had befriended quite a few people who would fit the role. There were several men from the gym who qualified, a couple from his place of employment at the blood bank, and a few more at the bar he frequented more than he cared to admit. But, in order to have a fair shot, he needed more people. Plus, he wanted a couple females in his little army, as well.
Henry walked into a locally owned bookshop in his neighborhood that he had scoped out during his usual stalking sessions. It was quite popular, so he felt he may find someone worthy in there. He usually went to the big chain farther into the city to buy his reading material, but he thought he would try the smaller shop for a change.
How ironic, he thought, smirking. He hung out in a bookshop when he didn’t have much more than an eighth grade education. He was street smart, rocking a businessman persona with ease and believability.
When he wasn’t working out, stalking innocent people, or keeping himself fresh at the firing range, he read educational material until the words blurred together. He felt like he did a halfway decent job of educating himself. There was no purpose behind it. Educating himself was just
for him. Everything else he did was for the program.
He walked up and down the compact, book-laden aisles, not really seeing everything on the shelves. A woman, perhaps in her late forties, came around the end cap and approached him. “Good morning.” Her tone had an air of insincerity, seeming ridiculously cheerful for nine a.m. Or maybe that was just him, considering the night he had. The whisky had flowed more than usual. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him to throw out a bogus jovial expression.
“Morning.” Henry returned the smile, but it was much smaller than hers.
This morning, he had on a black Nike ball cap pulled down tight over his chemical-laden emerald eyes. He always wore nondescript clothing, as well. They were designer, but only ever in a palette of navy, white, gray, or black. His charcoal gray hoodie was taut over his broad shoulders and chest. He worked hard to stay in shape. So far, he was rather successful and quite proud of everything below his neck. Above it?
That was an entirely different story.
Henry’s dark brown beard had grown into more than a five o’clock shadow. Between the hat and the beard, his features were hidden.
“Is there anything I can help you find?” Her fake chipper voice chapped his ass. Normally, he would have said he was all set, but her insincerity made him want to fuck with her just a tiny bit.
“Hmmm…” He tapped his forefinger on his lips. “You know, I’m looking for something for my girlfriend’s birthday. She’s contemplating jumping on the bandwagon of vampire and zombie romances, and also post-apocalyptic dystopian-style reads. I thought I would pick up a couple so she could decide what she would like.” He hoped that sounded convincing.
Henry hadn’t had a real girlfriend since he left England. For the most part, he would partake in one-night stands or a quickie in the back room at Cam’s, the bar he frequented. Although he did date one clingy psycho for about a month, he got out of that as soon as she started asking too many questions.