The Last Days
Books I, II & III
Written
By
Julie Cooper Brown
Copyright©2013JulieCooperBrown Thank you for purchasing this book. This Book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoyed this book, then encourage your friends to purchase their own copy. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to person, living or dead, or places and events are purely coincidental. The characters are a product of the authors’ imagination and are used fictitiously. Your support and respect or the author of this product is appreciated.
All rights reserved.
Copyright©JulieCooper-Brown2013
ISBN: 1490530134
ISBN-13: 978-1490530134
DEDICATION
Dedicated to the fans of The Last Days Series. Thank you for reading.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
i
1
The Last Day in the Life of Jillian
1
2
Kate’s Calling
115
3
Angel
252
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank my family and friends (old and new) for their support.
BOOK I
THE LAST DAY IN THE LIFE OF JILLIAN
October 20, 2013
12:34 A.M.
I’m not really sure how I should start this out; I’ve never been much of a writer. Since I have only two bullets left, which are reserved for use in the very near future, I might as well start from the beginning of the events that led us here. It will give me something to occupy my mind, sort of detach me from the situation at hand so I can better cope. Someone has got to leave of record of these things; I guess it will be me. Not that I believe that there will be anyone left to read it, I just think that if I put it down on paper that it will help me to realize that I will not be committing murder and suicide. I will be showing us a great act of mercy.
Never in a million years would I have ever thought that I would have to kill him.
I’m not going to kill him because of arguments, or money, or infidelity. You know… the normal reasons spouses usually kill each other over. I am going to kill him because, he has been bitten.
Bitten? By what?
A zombie.
A what?
I said zombie.
Zombie!? Awwwe, nooo waaay, Dude!
Yes, way.
He’s been bitten by a rot faced, shit kicking zombie. I know… I can hardly believe it myself.
I have accepted, (for the most part) that Evan is going to become a zombie and try to eat me. I don’t know when. I know that in the movies it only takes a few minutes for them to turn after being bitten. I guess it would have to since they need to fit all that action into one hundred and twenty minute shows. Not now, though.
In the real world, the virus that has invaded our country, could take up to three days. That’s a good thing; it gives you a little time.
It has now been twenty-seven hours since it happened. His breathing is becoming shallow now, so I may have just a few minutes, possibly a few hours. I will go on as long as I can.
I will begin by telling you a little bit about us.
My name is Jillian Drake and I am here with my husband Evan. We are both 37 years old. We were living in Ft. Myers, Florida.
I have waist length wavy auburn hair, blue eyes, a straight nose, and a little gap between my two front teeth. I like to think it’s my trademark. I’m a little chunky, I haven’t always been. Pleasingly plump is what I call it, though I have lost quite a bit in light of the past few week’s events. (Too bad it took a crisis to get me to lose 20 pounds).
Evan used to tell me that I looked like (with my mouth shut) the beautiful actress Rachel Weisz (who I’m guessing is not so pretty anymore). I didn’t agree, but I’ll gladly take it.
I met my husband while I was working in a diner. He walked in the door with the most amazingly beautiful bright green eyes, and dark brown hair that is just half a shade from being black. He was wearing a white T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, blue jeans that fit him very well and work boots. In my book, there isn’t anything in the world a man can wear that makes him hotter than that. Whew! I swear I couldn’t concentrate!
I botched every order I took except for his. I couldn’t keep my eyes off his mouth, perfectly plump, beautifully shaped lips that are a natural shade of purple.
He caught me looking a couple times and I was only slightly embarrassed, I wanted him to see me looking.
I know that might sound bad, but just from looking at him, I felt tremors in places I didn’t know I had. Imagine my elation when he asked me for my number. I even did a little victory dance in the middle of the dining room after he left, which earned me some pretty funny looks from the other patrons.
It was definitely lust at first sight. We dated for a few months before we got married, barefoot on the beach.
It was just the two of us and Reverend Hostetler, the cute little old Amish preacher that performed the ceremony. It was perfect. Evan did get a little impatient with the longwinded speech the Reverend was giving about marriage and as soon as he paused, Evan interrupted and said as sweetly as possible, “Can I kiss my bride now?” and the preacher said “No, I’m not finished yet.” We all laughed at this and finished the ceremony.
We spent the next two days and nights in a beachfront room at the Island Pier Hotel. In the evening we pulled our chairs down on the sand and kicked back with our beers in hand, without a word we watched the sun go down while we listened to the sounds of the Gulf. It was definitely a Corona moment.
Pretty much inseparable ever since, we have never spent a night apart. That was seven years ago.
I know - I know. It’s the shortest love story you have ever heard. There’s no time for an epic romance novel, or the steamy erotic tale it would be if I included the juicy bits.
So now, I will get to the point.
I am guilty of being addicted to Resident Evil games, zombie movies, shows, and books. I had seen Return of the Living Dead when I was ten and it scared the shit out of me, but I knew it was only make believe so I became a little bit of a zombie fanatic.
Even though I was so fascinated by zombies, they went on the back burner for a little while after I read ‘Interview with a Vampire’.
I fell in love with Lestat, as did everyone else on the planet. It was all about vampires after that.
I wanted to be one so bad; I really wish I could be one right now. I would make Evan my immortal companion before the Infection set in enough to ravage his body and transform him into a being that I used to love to be frightened of. Yes, it is a fantasy world I sometimes live in. Evan used to tell me so all the time.
Anyway, all the time that I was mostly into vampires, I still loved playing any zombie killing game I could play, as long as it had a good story line.
I could live through the terror with Leon or Claire while playing Resident Evil, I could endure the attacks of the twitchy nurses and their giant syringes in Silent Hill.
I was okay because, I was only playing a game.
It’s not a game now.
There are no puzzles to solve, no pieces of medallions to find, so I can use them to open the big door at the end of the hall. No cryptic message leading me closer to a lab holding the cure, and no little green healing plants around every other corner.
There is also no option to restart.
If there were I would’ve
hit that button a thousand and one times.
BUT, there is most definitely a big, bloody YOU ARE DEAD.
I thought I had paid attention to details when I watched all those horror movies over the years.
I guess not or we wouldn’t be trapped. I have a personal mental list called ‘Places you NEVER hide during a Zombie outbreak’ and rule number one is… DON”T HIDE IN A FUCKING ATTIC!
But here we are, stuck in an attic. It couldn’t be helped, we were left with no other choice - and I swear, if I hear a Halfer (I will explain them later) start yelling, “I know you’re up there, Jillian. I know - because I can smell your BRAINS!”
Oh My God! I will go psycho bat-shit crazy before I get the chance to complete the task that lies before me.
That used to be my favorite line from Return of The Living Dead. Not anymore, since I find us in an eerily similar predicament.
Just so you know killing the Infected is messy. You can’t even get a little bit of infected blood or tissue on you. In the movies and on TV, they just whack them up and blood is flying everywhere in their faces and all across their mouths and shit.
Well, here in the real world, if it gets on your skin ANYWHERE you are ‘subject to change’. We only know that because of our friend Jimmy. I’ll tell you about it if I can get that far.
And it only makes sense, right? I mean, if you can be infected by injection or by a bite and even a scratch, it has to flow through the blood stream to affect the brain. How else could it be carried through the body?
Well, I’m no doctor, but I’m almost sure that I am right.
And no, the previously deceased do not come back, clawing their way out of their graves screaming for brains. Those people have already made their peace with God and they are left at rest.
GOD’S PUNISHMENT
I’m pretty sure all this has to do with the Apocalypse, Armageddon - THE END OF THE WORLD!
I believe that because, God said “AND YE SHALL BE CAST INTO THE LAKE OF FIRE AND BRIMSTONE!”, “AND THE EARTH SHALL BE SWALLOWED UP!”, “THE DEAD SHALL RISE!”
Not the exact quotes but you get the idea. I can, however, quote Revelation 9:6.
“And in those days men shall seek Death, and shall not find it, and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them.”
I think that the latter was meant for unbelievers, I’m not sure, but it seems to fit this situation in some cases.
Don’t worry, I’m not gonna quote the whole Bible to you, I’m only giving the reasons why I think this particular curse was laid on us.
I think that the USA is suffering the worst kind of plague because of our actions.
USA is the Land of The Free right? The land in which you can worship many Gods except the God this country was founded on. . The land where the ‘powers that be’ have removed the Ten Commandments from our schools and public places despite the protests of not only the truly devout, but non- practicing Christians as well. This is a land where the people have more faith in sex and gold than they have in The Creator.
In this land, women can show, sell, and bargain with the whole of their bodies if they want to. Homosexuals are allowed to proclaim it and be proud. Not that I have anything against them. I’m just putting it out there. Our children are having sex before they are in their teens. Lewd and lascivious acts are even happening in churches of all religions.
Our Pastors are sleeping with the Deacons wives, the Deacons are sleeping with the men and women of the congregation and our Catholic Priests are raping young children and getting away with it.
God said, “For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world.”
I don’t go to church, and I’m not exactly a saint. I just don’t feel like I have to stand in a room full of hypocrites for God to know my heart.
I have a lot of flaws as does everyone else, (one of them being my consistently foul mouth) but no matter how I’ve lived my life, I have always believed in God and that He created us, and that we will all be held accountable for our actions. That we will all suffer for our own sins as well as the sins of others.
And now, I believe it’s time to pay the Piper.
This curse is a punishment given to us because of our desire for flesh.
It’s as if He held out his hands and said to us, “IF IT IS THE FLESH THAT YE SO GREATLY DESIRE WITH ALL YOUR HEARTS, THEN IT IS FLESH YE SHALL SURELY HAVE, IN ABUNDANCE!”
And with the snap of His fingers came a bolt of lightning and the Infection was cast down upon us.
Those who are attacked by a flesh eater, become a flesh eater. Those who are killed without injury to the brain, they too, become flesh eaters. Those who are lucky enough to get away will just be running, until all the resources are dried up. They will starve to death, and become an Infected, or be left with the decision to commit suicide and not become an infected.
It’s kind of like being able to choose between Heaven and Hell. What do you do?
“To be or not to be? That is the question.”
I think someone great once said that. I don’t know who. It doesn’t matter any way, that’s just about the gist of it. Either way, we are screwed. There is no escape. We found that out the hard way.
There are SO FUCKING MANY OF THESE THINGS! And these zombies don’t just eat brains; any part of your body will suffice.
It’s just like the movies in which the intended victims are running, and the killer keeps dragging ass but they ALWAYS catch up to them. There’s NO WAY OUT!
I just want to go back home now. I am really angry that Evan got bit. I should’ve been right behind him.
If he were okay; I’d say let’s just go home and die in OUR bed, surrounded by the familiar things that we worked so hard to obtain. We didn’t even want to leave, but it wasn’t safe to stay. But REALLY! Where the fuck is it safe to stay these days?
Ugh! I’m so frustrated! I apologize for the language but it’s the only way I have to vent; and if I shouted it out loud like I really want to, I’ll just stir up the Infected downstairs. I can hear them moaning and groaning down there, reminding me that there is nowhere left to run.
Game Over.
They DO know we’re up here; they just can’t get to us because when I pulled up the ladder, I tightly wrapped the cord around a nail I saw sticking up out of the floor to keep it from being pulled open. They will have to drag some kind of furniture up to stand on and pry the lid somehow to get up here. The ones down there now aren’t smart enough.
I can just see them now.
Standing under the hatch, open mouthed, milky-eyed and staring at it, waiting for us to come down. Why not? They have all the time in the world.
Now, the Halfers - I’m kind of worried about because they still think like a human and possess insane speed and strength for about three hours or so before they become full out zombie. As far as I can tell, there aren’t any of those down there. Not yet.
Damn, two months ago I would’ve sworn on my life, that I could survive if a ‘Zombie Apocalypse’ were to occur. It’s apparent that I can’t.
Evan is sick and I’m alone now. All I have left to do, is wait.
So, I will tell as much as I can recall, as accurately as I can while I’m waiting.
This may not be as action packed as you would expect, it is only my account of what it was really like for Evan and I to remain alive during a real zombie apocalypse.
I’m sure there were people in larger groups running around, with a much more interesting tale to tell. But not us, we chose to be alone.
So, I’m not going to say much about some of the people we ran into, because there weren’t many. I’ll just say that few people we did meet all felt the same way we do. Less people together, the less threat of being caught. No threat of one of us turning on the others if someone decided to keep being scratched, or bitten a secret.
We talked, swapped stories, shared survival tips, traded supplie
s and parted ways.
And as far as killing zombies, there is no glorious tale of kill or be killed. We did have to kill quite a few, but we were better off dodging them than we were if we would have stayed to fight them.
It all began on Thursday, September 12th.
THE DISASTERS
I awoke that morning with a suffocating sense of dread.
I felt like there was something seriously wrong. It was so strong that my heart was racing and I was shaking inside. It felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest, I was sure I would faint.
Anyone else might’ve thought they were having a heart attack, but I had those feelings often enough to know what they were.
Sometimes, things did happen. Minor things and they weren’t as bad as the feelings would lead me to believe, but this time was different, it weighed much too heavily on me.
I knew it wasn’t going to be a small thing.
I went back into the bedroom and looked in on Evan to make sure he was still breathing. No reason why he shouldn’t be, I just wanted to cross that out.
I thought to call my sisters, but it being so early in the morning (five thirty a.m.), I didn’t think my call would be received with much warmth. I made a mental note to call them at eight, turned on the television and booted up the computer.
I needed to get online and continue my job search; I had been out of work for a month by then and was bored out of my mind, not to mention the hard time Evan was having keeping us afloat. He was working six days a week insulating new homes, and he was just plain tired.
I checked my phone and saw that I had no missed calls. I checked my Facebook page, thinking, if something was really wrong, anyone who didn’t have my phone number would message me.
There were none.
The Last Days (Books 1-3) Page 1