by Max Lockwood
Zombie Armageddon
A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Survival - Last Man Standing Book 1
Max Lockwood
Illustrated by
Christian Bentulan
Edited by
Valorie Clifton
Copyright © 2018 by Max Lockwood
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Christian Bentulan
Edited by Valorie Clifton
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the authors’ imagination.
Contents
Mailing List
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
About Max Lockwood
Also by Max Lockwood
Excerpt From Point Of Transmission
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
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1
The sun began to peek over the horizon, sending streaks of pink light onto the empty street. Streetlights sparsely illuminated the deserted city, the broken lights leaving too much darkness to feel safe.
Matthew’s throat stung with every sharp inhale of the frigid morning air, the taste of blood lingering in the back of his mouth. A sharp, nagging pain in his side begged him to quit running, but he pushed the discomfort from his mind. Quitting was not an option.
He felt fast, tearing down the center of the street, something he had never done before. Without people moving about at all hours of the day, the city was no different from any other small town on Earth. Cabs sat discarded on the sides of the streets, parked in haste.
The drastic change in scenery messed with Matthew’s mind, often making him check to see if he was in the middle of a terrible nightmare. He focused on his surroundings in an effort to jar himself out of the dystopian dream, but the results of his tests always came back the same way.
Unfortunately, it was all too real. As his stomach turned from the smell of rotting meat that lingered in the air, he reasoned that smells never factored into his dreams. Besides, when he ran in his dreams, the ground never felt so hard and unforgiving under his feet.
In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was impossible for him to be dreaming. When he was chased by horrible creatures in his sleep, his legs felt like gelatin and he often found himself moving in slow motion, to the point where it was easier to run backward than forward.
No, there was no mistaking this for fantasy. Matthew had witnessed ghastly things in his life, but none were as horrible as the reality he now faced. His legs felt strong and fast as he ran, though his muscles burned as he picked up speed.
“Come on,” he pleaded breathlessly as he looked back toward his two companions. There was nothing else he could say to the two women he had only known for a short time. He was afraid for all of their lives, but he was becoming increasingly concerned as the distance between himself and the women grew larger.
Matthew readjusted the grip on the implements in his sweaty hands. The weight of the wooden baseball bat in his right hand was making his wrist ache. His left hand cramped as he squeezed the knife handle, afraid of it coming loose. Good weapons were invaluable in a warzone. That was something he’d learned a long time ago.
With a quick turn of his head, Matthew looked back at the other two who were struggling to keep up with him. It would waste too much breath to shout back at them to hurry up, not to mention, a completely pointless gesture. Ellie and Genevieve were well aware that they were in dire peril—it was pointless to mention it again.
Not far behind the two exhausted women was an ever-increasing group of zombies, headed straight toward them. Matthew could have sworn that there was only one or two of them a minute ago. Somehow, they multiplied in the time it took to look forward and run. Matthew would be able to handle a few of them, but if the girls were too drained to put up a fight, things would not end well for the three of them.
Genevieve managed to pick up a little ground, inching closer to Matthew. He could hear the uneven pattern of her footsteps. Her limping had hindered her ability to move quickly. Still, she persisted as best as she could on an injured leg, getting close enough to Matthew that he could watch her back, if necessary.
That left Ellie on her own. She panted and wheezed as she ran, a high-pitched squeak coming from her lungs as she tried not to have a complete meltdown. The zombies were now close enough that she could hear the strange groans that they made and could smell decaying flesh. She wasn’t as athletic as the other two—something that had never been an issue until the outbreak.
Matthew feared that Ellie wouldn’t make it. Against his instinct to preserve his own life, he doubled back and let both women pass him.
“Go,” he shouted in response to their quizzical expressions. He peeked over his shoulder again, trying to figure out what he was up against. He shuddered at what he saw.
The creatures behind him didn’t even look human anymore. He wasn’t sure if they had enough human-like qualities to even be considered people. The bipeds were fully monsters now. Matthew was convinced that their DNA had been completely altered. They certainly weren’t anything like him.
He tried not to look at them, but they were too close to ignore. Cloudy, soulless eyes stared back at him, chilling him to the core. Some had large, festering boils on their skin, threatening to burst open, while others’ conditions had progressed to the point where bones were exposed.
A bloody hand with white metacarpals reached for him. Matthew hardly saw it from his peripheral vision, but he managed to swing his hunting knife just in time. The hand dropped to the ground, much to the dismay of the zombie. It didn’t stop the creature, but it bought Matthew a little more time.
“I can’t run anymore,” Ellie panted, her face beet red and sweaty. It took so much out of her just to utter those words of defeat. Her head bobbed from one side to the other as she tried to keep up with Genevieve, who was struggling to continue.
“You can do this,” Matthew said firmly, running right beside the woman. “We need to find shelter.”
“This?” Genevieve asked, her voice going up an octave.
Matthew looked to where she was pointing. Up ahead, he saw a high-rise building with a glass revolving door at the entrance.
“Maybe,” he said, keeping an eye on the approaching zombies. “We might be able to barricade the door, but it’s a little risky.”
“I don’t care,” Ellie huffed. “If we don’t stop soon, I’m not going to make it.”
Matthew didn’t try to
give her any more encouragements. He knew that she was probably correct in her assessment. Ellie knew more about the zombies than anyone he had met. Losing her would be a terrible loss to his small group.
“Fine,” he relented. “Let’s head for that building. We need to put a little space between the mob and us so we have time to block the door. I’m going to need both of you to run like you’ve never run before, just for a few seconds. Can you do that?”
Both of the women nodded.
“Good. Now, when I give my signal, I want both of you to take off sprinting toward that door. Get in, and stand to the side of the entrance. If you can, look for something nearby to barricade the door. I’m going to hang back a little and fight off anything that tries to follow us. If I happen to beat you to the door, we’re all going to be in trouble. It’s just a few feet away—you can do this.”
Matthew took a deep breath. He didn’t have a lot of faith in their plan, but there was no time to come up with a better solution.
“Okay,” he hissed. “Now!”
The women launched forward as they struggled to get to the door before the zombies did. Matthew turned around and backpedaled a few steps, just to get a good look at what the zombies were up to. They stretched their grotesque arms toward the trio, threatening to grab whoever was closest.
He swung his bat at one zombie that was too close for his liking. The bat thudded against its skull, knocking down several others behind it. Bloody slime dripped down the side of the blunt object as he followed the girls onto the sidewalk. Just a few feet behind them, he dove inside just before a hand reached out to grab his foot.
Genevieve stood, pale-faced, with a briefcase in her hand. Matthew snatched it from her and jammed it between a rotating door and the doorframe. The leather case bent upon impact but gave the three enough time to figure out a failsafe plan.
“We need something heavy to stick in front of the door,” Matthew said, looking around the building. They had stumbled into what looked like a generic office building. A floor directory on the wall listed a bunch of companies that he had never heard of.
He combed a hand through his thick, dark hair as his eyes scanned the ground floor. He knew his emotions were getting the best of him. He was having a hard time thinking.
“The security desk,” Ellie panted. “I think we can use that. It’s not attached to the main reception area. It’s probably heavy as hell, though.”
Matthew ran over to investigate. Ellie’s idea seemed possible. He pushed a corner with his hip and it barely budged. It might work.
“Help me with this, would you?” he asked the women, beckoning them over. Ellie jogged to assist Matthew, but Genevieve was on the ground, curled up into the fetal position. Matthew shot Genevieve a look, then he looked toward Ellie for answers.
“She collapsed after you jammed the door,” she explained. “She’s in a lot of pain. I think sprinting took it all out of her. We’re going to have to move this on our own.”
“Fine.” Matthew sighed, turning his attention back to the desk. He got into an athletic stance and began to push the metal desk, the screeching it made on the tile floor almost unbearable.
Ellie put her weight behind the front of the furniture, opting to press her back to the side of the desk and push with her legs. It moved a few inches before both of them stopped to catch their breaths.
“Momentum,” Ellie panted. “This time, we can’t stop pushing until we get to the door. It will use more energy to start and stop.”
“Okay,” Matthew said, wiping sweat from his brow. “Go.”
They heaved the desk five feet, then ten, then all the way to the door. It sat flush against the entrance, making it virtually impossible to muscle the rotating door. Matthew and Ellie collapsed against the desk in exhaustion, relieved to be free from attack. The zombies raged outside, pounding on the glass. Matthew hoped it would hold.
Ellie nudged Matthew with her elbow, her body too tired to get off the ground.
“What?” he said softly.
“The door,” she wheezed breathlessly, her mousy brown hair hanging in sweaty curtains around her face.
A hand jutted through a small gap in the door. As it pushed its way inside, long stretches of skin peeled from the zombie’s arm like a banana.
“Ugh,” Matthew groaned in disgust, wielding his knife at the limb. It fell onto the desk, making a slapping sound against the glass top. Ellie cringed.
Matthew looked out the tinted glass windows that covered the front of the building. More zombies had gathered since they’d closed themselves in the abandoned building. He could hear a strange rumbling in the distance but couldn’t figure out what it was. He would have guessed it was the police, but he hadn’t seen many of those in the past few days. In fact, the last one he saw was brutally turned, right in front of him.
Out of all the groups of people in New York, the first responders had it the worst. While others could flee the populated areas, the police officers and firefighters were called to duty to protect innocent citizens from the terrifying attacks happening all around them.
It was hardly a fair fight. The officers didn’t have the privilege of running and fighting. Instead, they had to run directly into danger in an attempt to save those who were already too far gone. With little knowledge of what they were getting themselves into, many police officers were afflicted with the virus within the first few days of its appearance in the city.
Matthew wanted to be able to help more people, but he knew he had to be smart and a little selfish if he wanted to live. He was against leaving soldiers behind, but he also knew that he had better survival skills than most civilians. It didn’t make his life more valuable than anyone else’s, but he felt like the odds of his surviving were higher.
“I’m not sure if this is going to hold,” Matthew said, lightly touching the glass. “Do you have your knife?” he asked Ellie.
She turned, showing the knife holster on her hip. Matthew had given her his holster since she was having a hard time running as it was. She didn’t need any more things to worry about.
“Good. I just hope we can catch our breath for a moment before that becomes necessary. You did good out there,” he said, giving her a slight nod.
“Thanks,” she said, only managing half a smile. “I really, really hate running.”
Matthew chuckled. “I can tell. You were really booking it, though. Try to get up and walk around in a bit so you don’t cramp up. That’s the last thing you want when you’re trying to escape zombies. If you get injured, then I’ll have to carry the both of you. By the way, Genevieve, how’s your leg?”
“J’ai besoin d’aide,” Genevieve said softly. Matthew had picked up a few French words and phrases, but it was hard for him to understand when she spoke so quickly.
“Come again?”
“Help me!” she squealed.
Matthew and Ellie jumped up at the urgency in her voice. She lay a few feet away from them, still curled up in a ball. A zombie was lurking in the shadows, standing in the doorway just to the left of her. Genevieve’s knife had become dislodged in her fall, and she was not able to grab it. She was disarmed and a few feet away from being snatched up by a zombie.
Matthew’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. He was so concerned with the zombies on the outside that he didn’t check to make sure they were free from danger on the inside. Now, with their main exit blocked, he wasn’t sure how they were going to get out of the office tower.
“Okay,” he said softly, trying to calm the young woman down. “We’ll help you. Don’t worry.”
2
Matthew did his best to stay calm for the terrified French woman, but his heart was racing. He wanted to sprint away or jump into action, but he knew better than to panic. Mistakes were made when things were done in a hurry, especially out of emotion.
He studied the zombie in the doorway as it grimaced and gnashed its teeth. The three had noticed that the zombies reacted to sudden movements an
d loud noises. While he still didn’t completely understand their odd behavior, he had noticed a few things about the way they worked. Similar to how animals can smell fear in other creatures, the zombies fed on human panic.
“What do we do?” Ellie asked Matthew through her teeth. “It’s too close for comfort. I don’t want to startle it, but I think we may be beyond that point.”
“I think you’re right,” he replied. “The two of us can handle one zombie, no problem. I’ll lead the ambush and I want you to take Genevieve to safety. If I fail, I want you to take over the defense. Show it no mercy.”
“Got it,” Ellie said shortly, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I’ll follow you.”
Matthew tucked his knife into his belt and gripped the bat with both hands. He walked decisively toward Genevieve and her attacker, ready to fight.
The zombie picked up on his cue and charged Genevieve, causing her to scream in sheer terror. She stuck her good foot out to defend herself from the zombie, but she was overpowered.
“Help!” she screeched again as the zombie pounced on her. She tried to fight it off, but her knife was just out of her reach.
Matthew sprang into action, first whacking it over the head, then grabbing the zombie from behind and wrenching it off Genevieve. It did not like being detained and fought even harder, turning its attention toward Matthew.