Alexis and Nikki's Hellions
Other Books by The Author
Hell’s Wrath Series
Waking the Demon Within
Heart Of Stone
The Mystery Of BBB Academy
Shorts and anthology stories
Terror
Unleashed (found in the My Demon Guardian Anthology)
Infernum Academy ( found in Tormented: A bully Romance Anthology)
Little Thief (found in Hate To Love You Anthology)
Rites Of Passion (Found in Land of Nightmares Anthology)
Aaliyah’s Surprise
Beth Hendrix
Beth is a single mother of two, who has worked in a custom cabinet shop since she was young. She always has so many ideas flowing in her head but never thought that writing was a reality until some other amazing authors pointed out that she could. She loves all things paranormal and has a very unhealthy obsession with chocolate and doughnuts. She can usually be found chasing after her kids, typing like a madwoman or lost in a book.
If you would like to stalk… I mean follow Beth and her crazy antics, she can be found here.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/BethsDemonicReaders/ Facebook Group
Other Books by The Author
Demon Exchange Series
Hoodwinked
Rise of the Morphling Series
Of Blood & Twisted Roots
The Mystery Of BBB Academy
Heart Of Stone
Underworld Falling
Nightmare
Shorts and Anthologies
Unlucky Mates
Polymorphic Passion
My Dirty Secret (found in the Tormented: A bully Romance Anthology)
Little Thief (found in Hate To Love You Anthology)
Rites Of Passion (found in Land Of Nightmares Anthology)
The Day Death Died
By
Aster North
Shay
I’d watched all of those shows and read all of those books. You know the kind; the fantastical, outrageous stories where vampires lived forever and shifters became immortal because someone chewed on their arm like a dog toy. Coleen and I had even entertained the thought of what it would be like. Our wild musings hadn’t looked anything like what really happened when people refused to die.
It all began one seemingly innocent afternoon. Coleen and I were working the evening shift at a little diner. Because it was a slow day as Tuesday nights usually were, we studied for upcoming tests in between the rare customers that came through. Both of us were in our final year of college, but again, that wasn’t unusual, either.
No, the odd things began happening after a group of frat boys entered and sat down. Their loud voices and boisterous behavior irritated the shit out of me, but it perked Coleen up. She jumped up, fixed her hair, and whipped out her order pad before sauntering over to them.
Used to her antics, I only shook my head before burying myself in Environmental Geochemistry. I spent four years working my ass off to study the fucking Earth, and it was almost over. With only one month to go, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Coleen and I would be able to eat more than leftovers and ramen noodles. Well, maybe. If we found good jobs and our student loan payments didn’t take our whole checks.
As if thinking her name signaled her, Coleen let out a peal of laughter. It was the same laugh that said she would be going home with someone. I glanced up with the intention of seeing which one she’d chosen. My bet landed on the frat boy that desperately needed a haircut.
I never did learn which one elicited Coleen’s mating call. Instead, my eyes locked onto the chaos visible on the large flat screen behind them.
Blue and red lights flashed, competing against each other and the panicked faces of everyone on the television. A blond with a short bob spoke animatedly, her painted red lips moving rapidly, though I couldn’t hear anything. Her darting gaze and flinches drew me in and sent a chill down my spine.
Once I was able to tear my gaze away, I studied the background and found more sights that pushed me to yell at Coleen. “Hey!”
Startled, she and the table of boys snapped around to see who dared to interrupt their very important flirting routine. When she found only me, her lips pursed and her hip cocked to the side. As her mouth opened, ready to suck in a deep breath so she could launch into a lecture, I pointed behind her.
“Look. Something’s happening at the hospital. Something big. Turn it up.”
She spun around, and two of the guys followed her lead a second later. The third, the roughest looking one out of the whole group chose to stare at me instead. I brushed off the crawling sensation that came with his scrutiny and tried to concentrate on whatever the breaking news was.
The reporter’s words increased in volume as Coleen stood on her tiptoes and pressed the button with her outstretched finger. Blaring sirens made it difficult to understand all of the reporter’s words, but we got enough to get the idea.
“Yes– right. Peo– dying but– walking. Doctors can’t– baffled,” she managed to say between the noise.
“I’m sorry, Paula. We’re having a difficult time understanding you with all of the commotion behind you,” the stiff studio anchor said.
Paula stuck one hand over her ear, presumably to hear him better.
“What’s going on, Shay?”
I jumped, banging my bare knee on the tabletop. Coleen stood only inches from me, and I hadn’t noticed her drifting back towards me as I tried to pick out the clues in the background.
As I rubbed my knee, I murmured, “I don’t know.”
We watched the two news people try and fail to communicate with one another for a few more minutes before the reason for the pandamonium became clear. An old man stumbled towards Paula. She didn’t see him. She couldn’t.
But her cameraman did. He shifted and zoomed in on the confused-looking being. Since it was live television, there was no blurring of his nakedness, no covering of his dangling bits. His skin appeared ashen and his curly short hair stuck out around his head. Shifting eyes and shuffling steps alluded to the fact that something was not right.
Even without all of the signs we’d already seen, the cracked, open chest he displayed drove home the point that something was very, very wrong. No one could survive with their heart peeking out, could they? Where one expected blood to be gushing out, there was nothing. Just his pale skin and that gaping hole where doctors had cut him open and cracked his sternum.
Pain exploded in my shoulder, and I jerked back, only to find Coleen’s hand coming with me. She’d gripped me so hard that my movement didn’t even dislodge her.
“Shay. Do you see that? That’s not possible, is it? How’s he walking around? Why haven’t they sewed him up? What’s happening?” Her questions grew more rapid and shrill as she spit them out, and I had no answers for her.
The siren’s ‘whoop whoop’ cut off suddenly, leaving the diner eerily silent. I shivered as a chill washed over me, leaving tiny beads of sweat in its wake. This was a big, life-changing event.
After prying myself free from her color-leached fingers, I drifted towards the screen, trying to find the clues that would explain how I was seeing what I saw. Obviously dead, the man bumped into the reporter, drawing a shriek from her as she glanced back.
The camera zoomed in, giving us a very up-close view of the inside of his chest. Where we should see a bright red, pulsing mass, only an ashen blob remained. It didn’t beat at all.
“Is that a fucking zombie?” The voice came from one of the frat boys, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away to find out which one.
“I think so,” I whispered and took another step.
“Paula, are you okay?” the anchor asked with stumbling words.
“I’m fine, Robert. Are you seeing this?”
“We are. Can you explain what’s happening? That man has to be dead, right?” Robert’s voice seemed strained as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just come out of
his mouth.
To be fair, neither could I. Despite seeing it with my own eyes, my mind just couldn’t work through the problem.
“I believe so.” Paula cleared her throat and tried to compose herself for a moment before starting again. “The doctors here at Saint Mary’s have been avoiding our questions, but this does seem to confirm the rumors we’ve been hearing outside. From what we’ve been told, patients have been declared legally dead. Hours, sometimes only minutes later, they get up as if nothing happened. We were told that they do seem to be confused at first, but eventually regain some mental facilities.”
“And the hospital hasn’t issued a statement? Do you know if they plan to release one anytime soon?” Robert asked as the camera jerked back to the ER doors.
There, another man shuffled out, but this one wore one of those horrible hospital stripper gowns. The fabric slipped down on one side, revealing his bare shoulder and the stark white electrode pads stuck to his skin. Nearly as pale as the pads, nothing else seemed to be wrong except for that dazed look and stuttering walk.
“Think he’s dead, too?” I heard from behind me.
I shook my head, unsure of what to tell Coleen.
“What’s going on out there?” Walt, the cook, asked as he peeked through the pass-through.
Without pulling my gaze from the television, I waved for him to come out and see for himself. There was no way he would believe me unless he saw it with his own eyes.
After he joined us, we got comfortable at the table with the frat boys. Well, got as comfortable as one could be when everything one has ever known was being challenged in spectacular fashion.
Why did we sit with the three strangers? It just seemed like the right thing to do. It wasn’t a conscious decision. I slid down into a seat, and Coleen and Walt followed. Maybe I wanted to surround myself with other humans, to not feel as alone as I truly did right then. Whatever the reason, the six of us remained stuck in the uncomfortable seats long past time for closing.
The light flickered overhead, and the fluorescent bulbs buzzed, leaving us all bathed in the stark, awful lighting. None of us got up for a drink, and the frat boys didn’t even ask for what they’d originally come in for.
Instead, we watched as more and more hysteria grew around the country. Paula was quickly replaced by a canned shot from some hospital in New York City, then Philadelphia, then Los Angeles, and so on until it was clear that this wasn’t some one time, random occurrence.
By the time the sun rose, the President made a statement that didn’t tell us anything. We’d remembered our phones and checked social media, searching for any real answers. Nothing but a lot of speculation and wild videos of panicked people could be found.
Eventually, the boys left, and we cleaned up quickly before leaving. So, when I’m asked where I was on the day Death died, the scent of burgers and old grease coats my nose. Coleen’s grip becomes a phantom pain, and my stomach swirls, just like it did that night.
Shay
Coleen and I remained holed up in our small apartment for days after that. People freaked out, claiming that we’d just begun the zombie apocalypse or that the rapture was near. Stores were wiped out. Looting began. College shut down. Martial law ensued.
It was wild, and all of it fueled by social media and the lack of concrete information. No one could tell us what was actually happening. Coleen and I both stayed locked onto various sites, searching for any scrap of when everything would go back to normal. Our ramen noodle stash grew dangerously low.
Hell, beyond our obsession over finding news, it didn’t seem like anything more than some weird spring break. We even joked about it; bad, corny jokes to try to lessen our growing concern. Finally, the government admitted that yes, dead people were walking around.
Life got really scary then. Before, it was all out there, but when the banging on our door began, it became real. Just a peek out the window revealed people breaking into cars and stealing shit from anyone that happened to be out. The National Guard patrolled, scaring off the criminals for a moment, but they would come back as soon as those trucks turned the corner.
And soon, even the soldiers weren’t enough. People began attacking them, getting shot, and then popping back up as if nothing happened. They would shuffle down the street. Not all of them, of course. Some laid there on the sidewalk until they were collected as dead bodies should. The walking ones? They didn’t have the courtesy to reanimate elsewhere, and it only made Coleen hyperventilate every time it happened.
The news showed cities all over the world burning as the citizens tried to ‘cleanse’ it. Morgues, funeral homes, and even hospitals were prime targets. Grassroot organizations sprang up and began attacking the soldiers. They claimed that it was God’s will, and the soldiers were only hampering the return of Jesus.
Eventually, only a couple of weeks after the initial report–a time full of uncertainty and fear–things grew worse. People were becoming hungry, and the government was overwhelmed. I’d read somewhere that we were all only a few meals away from anarchy. I believed it. I watched it.
Grocery stores and restaurants became a thing of the past. Even power and water became spotty.
I suppose it would be hard to work when dead bodies just walked in. Besides, with the rumors flying that it was contagious, no one wanted to be out. I know Coleen and I certainly didn’t show up for our shifts.
The last thing our government did for us was to begin a war that no one won. They somehow found ‘evidence’ that it was a manufactured weapon later unleashed by some terrorist group. Then suddenly, that terrorist group was being backed by a few different nations. Trade stopped one day, and the next, we were admitting to assassinating leaders of their governments.
Television shows no longer ran. Instead, wall to wall news played on a loop. We watched them when we were lucky enough to get any power. Then that, too, stopped.
Bombings began, both on the streets and from above. The world outside became nothing but blasts and screams and gunshots. The heavens burned, and our apartment became our own hell.
Coleen and I cried from our hunkered positions under her bed. It wouldn’t have saved us, but it didn’t feel right to sit on the old couch like it was merely a lazy Sunday. We didn’t know what else to do. So, we did nothing.
Until one night when we were woken from our sleep by what felt like an earthquake. The building shook, her cheap metal-frame bed creaked, and our eyes opened to darkness.
As soon as Coleen and I locked eyes, she burst into tears. When I tried to pull myself from beneath our poor excuse for shelter, she lost it and began to dig her fingers into my hips and calves.
Suppressing the urge to kick the shit out of her, I paused, contorting my body until I faced her.
“Let me go,” I whispered into the eerie silence that filled the pauses between her sobs.
“No. Don’t leave me here,” she pleaded in halting bursts.
“Then come with me. We have to see what’s happening.” I extended my hand, willing her to take it.
We couldn’t remain there. Not when the explosions were growing closer each day. Not when I knew that the people outside would eventually beat down our door. Even with almost all of our furniture piled against it, you could still see the vibrations from the force they put into trying to rob us. Or worse.
“We need to leave, Coleen. I feel it. If we stay here, we’re going to die.” The instant I said the words, I knew it was true.
Certainty settled into my gut, and the hard rock it had become transformed into a chasm of urgency as time ticked by. My breathing sped up, my heart raced, and my stomach bounced as my entire body begged me to just leave her behind. I needed to leave.
But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. So my mind fought with my body as my hand trembled, hanging an inch above the dirty floor as she decided our fate.
“Okay,” she finally whispered. A jerky nod broke our stare, and louder she said, “Okay. We go.”
Soren
&
nbsp; Shit was getting scary. We’d been trying to ride it out at the house until we could find a way out of town. At first, it freaked us out, but the government would take care of it. The CDC or WHO or someone would figure it out, and things would go back to normal. At least, that’s what we thought.
When the whole world became fucked, we started planning. Our problem was we didn’t have a way out. Only Chris had a car, but a car was useless without gas. I’d tried to siphon some from the cars around the neighborhood but found that someone had beaten me to it.
We thought about walking, but we missed our chance for that. Gangs roamed the streets, and sure, we weren’t scrawny, but there were only six of us and we didn’t have guns. They did. Some of the guys were smarter than we were. They took off at the first hint of trouble. Then we lost Jason when he snuck out alone one night, probably to find some food. I say we lost him, but I’d seen him outside, wandering around with a bullet hole to the head.
That really freaked us out. Now Blake and Corey were going to try to make it out of town and head up north, back to their hometowns.
“You sure you three don’t want to come with us? It isn’t safe here,” Blake said.
Tension laced the air as he stood there, his hands in his pockets as he stared at the ground. I hated that fucker, but he wasn’t wrong. It was the opposite of safe.
“Nah. We’ll figure something out,” Mike answered and stuck out his meaty hand.
I scoffed as they shook hands, and Blake cut his eyes towards me before quickly looking away. That’s right, motherfucker. Better look somewhere else. I should fuck him up anyway. See how he makes it home on a couple of broken legs. Bastard.
Tales of the Apocalypse: A Dystopian Anthology Page 7