The Zombie Awakening (Complete 6 Volume Series, plus prologue)

by Melton, Cynthia

  One week after the outbreak and she’d bet she’d lost five pounds. Not exactly the type of diet she’d recommend. She and Eric had spotted other survivors, skittish people who hid at the first sight of them. That suited her fine. Especially with Eric’s warning about intense situations bringing out the worst in some people.

  They’d managed to kill plenty of the undead in the last week, but Rachel didn’t think she could actually bury a hatchet in the head of someone living or put a bullet between their eyes, despite her threat to Eric a few days ago.

  “Man, I wish we had some beer.” Eric removed his can and used a plastic spoon to fish out a bite.

  “We can try to find some, but that will mean going into town.” Unless the back road they traveled had a Mom and Pop store. Maybe they’d find some more shotgun shells stashed behind a country store counter.

  Eric motioned his head toward a truck with a camper shell. “How do you feel about switching vehicles?”

  She glanced over. A headless corpse hung from the open door. “There’s a dead body.”

  “Yeah, but I’m betting most of the blood is on the ground outside of the truck. And,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “I bet the keys are in the ignition. I’m thinking it might be nice to sleep on a mattress.”

  With her, he meant. He hadn’t kept his attraction to her a secret, and Rachel would be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted. The touch from another human that didn’t want to bite off her face would be worth a million cans of stew. But…contact brought intimacy which brought caring, and she didn’t want to have feelings for anyone. Not in the world they now lived in.

  A can clattered across the concrete.

  Rachel bolted to her feet, one hand on the wicked weapon hanging from her belt. She wanted to call out a warning, but noise brought the living and the dead. She glanced at the low burning fire and sighed. The lure of a hot meal could be their downfall.

  “Put your back next to mine,” Eric said. “We can’t be caught unaware that way. We’ll protect each other.”

  She nodded, her heart in her throat. Please, only let there be one. They hadn’t had to fight more than three at a time since joining together. Their good luck couldn’t last forever, but Rachel’s strength was failing. She needed a night of worry-free sleep. “If we get out of this alive, I’ll take you up on that offer of a mattress.”

  “For more than sleep?” He chuckled.

  “In your dreams.”

  “Every night.”

  She grinned and watched as a man in a janitorial cover-up and a woman wearing a suit and one high heel lumbered their way. “I’ll take the business bitch.”

  “You got it.” Eric stepped away from her and meandered toward their company. “His name is Fred.”

  “I don’t want to know what their names used to be.” She handled the situation better if she didn’t look at them as having once been human. She raised her weapon and cleaved the woman’s skull. Stupid things. Couldn’t even fight back. Shuffled forward day-by-day in their never-ending quest for food. Rachel wasn’t much different, if she thought about it. Sustenance meant survival for both species.

  She wiped her knife clean on the woman’s suit jacket then marched toward the camper while Eric tossed the bodies onto the fire. With any luck, they’d burst into flame and disintegrate.

  Rachel yanked the headless man from the cab. Yes, the keys were in the ignition. “Welcome home. Let’s transfer the supplies.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Eric jogged to the truck. “I’m getting a good night’s sleep tonight.”

  The poor man on the ground must have turned, then had his head severed almost immediately. Which meant…there were others out there, living and breathing, who knew how to fight. Should they try to find them and hope they could band together? A large group of people would have a better chance at surviving. The zombies seemed to congregate together, the living needed to follow their example.

  Eventually, the zombie bodies would deteriorate, right? And the world could recover, if anyone was left to rebuild.

  She moved to the back door of the camper and opened it. A woman fell out, then immediately reached for Rachel’s leg. “Back off, bitch.” Rachel jabbed her knife through the woman’s open mouth. “This is my home now.”

  “Heartless.” Eric approached with a case of water in his arms.

  “Yeah, well, nowadays a person needs to be. Let me check the inside before you come in.” Knife at the ready, she climbed the two metal steps and peered into the dark recesses of the camper. A suspended mattress over a table with two bench seats. A small sink. A closet that was most likely the toilet, and a few cupboards. A real penthouse. “Come on up. There’s nowhere for anyone to hide in here.”

  Eric climbed in and stacked the water next to the sink. “Not a lot of room.”

  “All we need is the bed,” Rachel told him. “Pile the supplies on every available surface. I’ll shove what I can into the cupboards.”

  Supplies transferred, Rachel stared at the Chevy. Such a beautiful truck. “I hate leaving her behind.”

  “We’ll find you another one once we settle someplace.” Eric put an arm around her shoulder and planted a kiss on her cheek. “We’ll find a cute little place in the country where you’ll finally succumb to my charms. Maybe, we’ll find a couple of kids that survived and have our own little apocalyptic family.”

  Rachel laughed and squeezed his hand. “That sounds wonderful.”

  “I’m going to see if the toilet works.” He stepped into the camper and helped her up. Then—opened the closet with a flourish. A child stumbled out and latched its teeth onto his forearm.

  Eric yelled and fell back.

  Rachel grabbed her knife and rammed it through the little girl’s head. The zombie let go and fell.

  Eric raised wide eyes. “Well, damn. She bit me.”

  5

  Rachel raised her knife, barely able to make our Eric’s features through her tears.

  He raised his hands. “Wait. Please. Don’t kill me yet. Wait until I die. Talk with me. I want the last thing I see to be your face. The last sound to be your voice.”

  “Oh, Eric.” She set her knife on the floor and knelt beside him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was my own carelessness.” He pushed to his feet and eyed the mattress. “It still looks mighty fine, but I don’t want my blood on it when you put a bullet through my brain. Take my gun when I’m gone. It’s handier than that shotgun you carry on your back.”

  Rachel nodded and swallowed back tears. She wanted to give him the kiss he’d been asking for, make love to him, but held back. She didn’t know when the contagion started. Maybe it was after the reanimation, maybe it was when first bitten. The only thing she did know was that once a fever started, the person was dead.

  Did the flu-like symptoms still plague people or had they run their course? She swiped her hand across her eyes. “Can I get you something? Water? A bite to eat?”

  “No. Don’t waste any of your supplies on a dead man.” He scooted into the small amount of seat left on one side of the table, then waved a hand for Rachel to sit on the other end. “When I start getting feverish, I’ll go outside to sit.” He reached across the table for her hand. “You shouldn’t have to clean me up.”

  The tears started again. “I wouldn’t mind.” She cupped his cheek with her free hand. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” Sweat beaded on his upper lip.

  She shrugged. “Everything. Helping me, keeping me from going insane, showing me life was still worth living.”

  “Find that safe place, Rachel.” He stood. “Don’t leave people behind. Save as many as you can.” He pulled her into his arms. “You’re holding onto a big secret, and it’s eating you alive. Let it go. The past is gone. We can only forge ahead.”

  She rested her forehead on his chest. “I had a hand in all this, Eric. I’m partially responsible for you dying.” She raised her head and stared into his eyes. “I was a research assistant at the
facility where they created this virus. When the meteors hit—”

  He put his forefinger over her lips. “It’s not your fault. The meteor shower was an act of God. A tantrum of an angry Mother Nature. Call it what you will, but it was not your fault. I’ve got to go outside now.”

  She nodded and choked on a sob. She’d felt his temperature rising from the simple touch on her lips. She wanted to hold him back, beg him to stay, scream her anger and frustration at God. Surely, there were people on this earth that were immune. People that could survive a bite. It couldn’t be the end of the human race.

  Once outside, he slumped against the wheel. “Make sure you do it right, Rachel. I don’t want to come back as one of those things.”

  “I will.” She knelt in front of him, his gun in her lap. “I wouldn’t curse you to that type of existence.”

  He stared at the feeble light showing over the wall. “Sure would’ve liked to see the sunset one more time, you know? I’m going to miss its return.”

  “It’ll be beautiful.” Rachel forced the words past her clogged throat. “Shades of eggplant, mauve, and pumpkin, streaking across the sky with the sun a glorious yellow orb in the middle of it all. After the darkness, the sky will be such a brilliant indigo as the sun sets, it’ll blind you.”

  He closed his eyes. “I can see it.”

  She wiped away the tears. Would they ever stop once he was gone? She didn’t want to forget him. Life shouldn’t be easy for her. This was why she didn’t want to be around people. She couldn’t afford to get attached. Life was cruel now, bent on a personal vengeance against humankind.

  The sound of a diesel engine rose on the night air. Out on the nearby highway, life went on. Rachel would, too. She’d merge back onto the main interstate and take her chances. She’d keep her promise to Eric to keep living.

  She watched his chest rise and fall, ready to pull the trigger the moment he remained still. She knew the signs. After all, she’d witnessed them several times in a laboratory.

  His breathing slowed, yet didn’t stop. Rachel leaned forward, planting a kiss between his eyes, marking the spot she’d put the bullet.

  Eric grasped her hand. “Not yet. I’m still…here.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” Only a few moments remained. The touch of his hand seemed to sear her skin. How could he be so hot and still coherent?

  “When another guy comes along, someone nice to you, give him a chance. You deserve happiness.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t want someone else. She wanted Eric. If she’d known that one week could lodge a comedic, confident, arrogant man so firmly into her heart, would she have let him in the truck that day? Yeah. Yeah, she would have.

  His body jerked, then spasmed. He groaned, but continued to breath. What was happening? Rachel frowned. Normally, a person just closed their eyes, and left. He jerked again.

  “Eric?” She stood and took a step back, aiming the pistol at the spot she’d chosen. “Can you hear me?”

  He held out a hand to her.

  The End

  THE DARKENING

  A Zombie Awakening Novel

  Book One

  By Cynthia Melton

  Acknowledgements

  To my son Mychal, who is the inspiration for the character of the same name, and to my wonderful grandkids who inspired me to write a YA novel:

  Eddy, Alyssah, Faith, Caleb, and Trinity.

  Enjoy! Nana loves you.

  DJ, this print version is for you. Love you!

  Chapter 1

  June

  “My fellow Americans. It is with a heavy heart that I inform you the mission to blow up the meteor hurtling toward Earth was unsuccessful.” The president looked to have aged ten years in the last week. Chalice Hart held her breath and met her mother’s horrified expression over her younger sister Hanna’s head. Her brother, Mychal, clutched a navy throw pillow to his chest and kept his gaze glued on the television.

  “Although the target was hit, it was not obliterated as we had hoped. Instead, we now have multiple meteors showering down on us. Meteors will shower Earth beginning at 5 p.m. tomorrow evening Eastern Standard Time. They will range in size from a golf ball to a school bus. Some coastal towns will cease to exist as tsunamis’ wipe them from our continent. I urge you, my friends, if you did not heed earlier warnings to prepare, to flee these areas immediately and head inland as soon as possible. Los Angles, New Orleans, New York, and others will be under water.

  “These meteors may strike government facilities which will unleash diseases we’ve only dreamed about in our nightmares. Find a safe place and stay there. May God be with us all.”

  “Mom?” Tears welled in Chalice’s eyes. Her skin prickled. They’d known the chance of a meteor strike, but what did he mean about plagues? What kind of work did the government do in secret?

  Her mother wrapped an arm around her. “We’re prepared, sweetie. The pantry and root cellar are stocked with food and water. Living in these Ozark hills, we’re safe from the ocean, volcanoes, and earthquakes.”

  “But not the meteors themselves,” Mychal explained. “They can hit everywhere. And what if a plague is released? An airborne one? It’ll reach in a few months.”

  “Don’t scare your sisters.” Mom pulled Hanna tighter to her and brushed Chalice’s hair from her face. “We’ll be okay. Come on. There’s a lot of work to be done today. We’ve gone over the drill. Everyone knows what to do.”

  For six months, Chalice had ridiculed her mother for preparing for, and believing in, the worst. Most people she knew thought the astronauts would do what they’d set out to. Now, the unthinkable had happened. And Chalice had done the one thing her mother had asked her not to; told others they were stockpiling. Some of the boys from school laughed and said they knew where to go when doomsday hit.

  Mychal ran to grab the backpacks from the closet under the stairs. Hanna rushed to put plugs in all the sinks and bathtubs and fill them with water. It was Chalice’s responsibility to pack boxes with the foodstuffs from the pantry and take them to the root cellar behind the barn. Not that it would do any good if they were stuck in the cellar. While they ran around accomplishing their assigned tasks, her mother would worry about clothing and weapons.

  But Chalice couldn’t move. Cement coated her arms and legs. Her blood ran with liquid fire as guilt sped through her. She needed to confess. “Mom, I told people you were stocking food.”

  “Define people.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed.

  Chalice swallowed past the mountain in her throat. “Um, Angie, Barbie, the Baker brothers.”

  “Is there anyone you didn’t tell?” Mom’s face paled. “Chalice, when something of this magnitude happens, it brings out the worst in folks. Everyone in these hills owns at least one gun. What were you thinking? They can take our food and medical supplies. Everything I’ve spent my paychecks on each month.”

  “I didn’t think it would really happen! Scientists would have told us if the meteor was going to hit here, right?” Chalice cried in earnest now. Her throat burned, and she grabbed a napkin to wipe her nose.

  “Not if they wanted to avoid a panic,” Mychal said. “If they discovered they couldn’t do anything, they might have offered to keep the news to themselves. Can you see how crazy people would’ve been over the last few months? I mean, if you think about it, and you knew a meteor would strike for sure, what could you do, really? Nah,” he grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. “I’d rather be left in the dark and not know.”

  Chalice nodded. She’d royally messed up. Her mother expelled a deep breath and stormed from the room.

  Grabbing a cardboard box, Chalice began to empty the pantry. Cans of tuna, packets of dried potatoes, jars of pickles, powdered milk, cereal; her mother had thought of everything. Even vitamins and baby wipes.

  First box full, she hefted it in her arms and headed to the cellar. Mychal had thoughtfully propped it open with a rock.

  Inside, Chalice set the box on a rickety wo
oden table and added the box’s contents to the canned vegetables already on the shelves. Two bunk beds lined the walls. Water jugs filled the corners of the room. A chemical toilet hid behind a hung shower curtain. A radio and batteries took center stage on the table. Two rifles lay in their racks above a couple of lawn chairs with boxes of shells stacked beneath them. Her brother’s throwing knives were in a can on the table.

  She slumped into a chair. This couldn’t be happening! This only happened in the movies, or books.

  Mom entered the room and dropped blankets on the beds. “Don’t worry. I’ll install a lock on the cellar door this evening. We’ll be fine. We’ll leave a few items in the house and make it look like we left town.” She cupped Chalice’s cheeks with her warm hands. “I know you didn’t mean any harm.”

  Chalice nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  Mom patted her on the shoulder. “No biggie. Once you finish the pantry, help me with the clothes, okay? And have Mychal carry in the bags of dog food. Can’t have Lady going hungry, can we?”

  “What about the horses?”

  “We’ll give ‘em plenty of hay and water, then they’ll have to fend for themselves.”

  “What if we don’t get hit?” Hope leaped in Chalice’s heart. It could happen. The president’s message could be an exaggeration, right?

  “Then we’ll thank God.”

  “Is this the end of the world?”

  “No. Just the world as we know it.” Mom gave a sad smile and left, leaving a trail of the vanilla scent she wore wafting in the air behind her.

  Chalice emptied out the pantry and cupboards. When things no longer fit on the cellar shelves, she stacked the boxes underneath. The walls closed in on her, made worse by piles of supplies.

  Hanna carried an armload of board games. “How long will we have to stay down here? It’s getting really crowded.”

  Chalice shrugged. “As long as it takes.” As long as what takes? The world to go back to normal, people to settle down and not try to steal and murder, some mysterious plague to run its course? Obviously Mom anticipated them staying underground for months.