“It’s all right, kiddo. Just be more careful in the future, okay? Zombies and weapons aren’t toys, and people’s lives are a big responsibility.”
“I’ll remember,” she said.
“Now, please excuse my wife. The moment I let her in, she’ll smother you with love,” Kevin said.
“Does she know?”
“No, and I’d rather it stay that way. Thelma is finally happy here in this wonderful place you girls sent us too, and she can watch her remaining son grow up and get married and have kids of his own without dying at the hands of flesh-eating monsters. I don’t want to spoil that.”
Nadia nodded. “Okay.”
And indeed, Thelma almost crushed her in her arms before showering her with little treats such as chocolates, bath oil, lip gloss, and hand cream. All of which was hard to come by in the post-zombie era.
Steward was there too, as shy as ever. He did manage to thank her though, and even showed her a picture of his new girlfriend which came as a huge relief. She’d secretly worried he still had a crush on her, and it was nice to see him moving on.
After that particular visit, Nadia called a halt. She needed some time on her own to heal and process things. Lying in bed on a perpetual high was a great time to say goodbye to old hurts like her mother and Bobby, Brandon, her first love whom she’d accidentally infected, Caleb, her true love, but most of all, Logan. Logan who’d saved her life and her soul. Logan who’d loved her without reserve even when she least deserved it. Logan who stuck by her through thick and thin. Finally, Logan who’d sacrificed himself so she could live.
Nadia stared into the dark, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “Goodbye, Logan. I’ll miss you, but I’ll see you again one day.”
She did receive one more visit in the form of Dr. Lange. “Good morning, Nadia. I come bearing great news.”
Nadia’s ears perked. Great news? From Dr. Lange? That could only mean one thing. “You’ve got a vaccine?”
Dr. Lange hesitated. “In a way, my dear.”
“In what way?” she asked, her high hopes sinking to the floor faster than a lead balloon.
“Do you remember Aiden, the boy who’s immune?”
Nadia frowned. “Yeah, he’s one of Cat’s friends. They stayed together on the farm.”
“You see, unlike you who is a carrier of the virus, passing it on to others, his body can fight it off, even kill it.”
“Yes? So?”
“I’ve managed to manufacture a vaccine that will suppress the virus in your body, allowing you to touch and be with others in a normal way.”
“What? Are you serious,” Nadia asked.
“Utterly,” Dr. Lange said. “But there’s a drawback.”
Nadia sighed. “What is it?”
“You’ll have to take it every day for the rest of your life. No more wandering around for you. St.Francis will have to be your permanent home. Also, this drug will be near impossible to produce on a mass scale which means it will only be available to a few people who really need it…like you.”
“I see,” Nadia said, slightly deflated as her hopes for a zombie-free future for them all vanished. Still… “I can live a normal life?”
“Yes, dear. You can.”
Dr. Lange left, and Nadia sank back onto her cushions, speechless with shock and happiness. The doctor might not have cured zombies or saved the human race, but he’d found a way for her to live as she was meant too. “Thank you, Dr. Lange.”
***
Another two days passed before Nadia awoke one morning, fresh and clearheaded. A nurse helped her bath and dress, and she felt ready to face a day outside of the confines of bed. “Can I walk around a bit, please?”
“Yes, you can. Just take it easy at first and rest often. You’re still weak,” the nurse agreed.
“Thank you,” Nadia said, prepared to leap out of bed.
“Whoa, cowboy, or should I say, cowgirl? Breakfast first,” the nurse insisted.
Nadia groaned, but she was hungry so wolfed down her toast and eggs in record time followed by milky tea which she despised. Who drank milky tea? Seriously?
The first few steps were tough, her legs wobbled and so did the room, but she soon got used to it, and then nothing could stop her. Three hours later, she stood outside in the garden staring at the ocean in the distance. As always, it soothed her soul and eased her loneliness.
Someone behind her cleared their throat. “Are we interrupting?”
Nadia froze, placing the voice immediately. She turned so fast she almost fell and ripped out her stitches again. “Lisa? Cat?”
And indeed, it was them. In the flesh and smiling like naughty schoolgirls. “I can’t believe it’s you!”
“It’s us all right,” Lisa said.
“Looking better than ever,” Cat confirmed.
“Actually, you both look like shit,” Nadia pointed out, her eyes jumping from a black eyes here to a split lip there. “But you’re still beautiful to me.”
The three drew together in a group hug, crying and laughing and jumping up and down with glee until it was all one garbled, bleary mess. At last, they calmed down and found a seat in the garden to rest upon while Nadia shared her story. Once she was done, it was the other two’s turn, and when all was said and done, an awkward silence fell.
“So, what happens now?” Nadia asked.
“I am the newly elected leader of Queenstown along with Trevor. We plan on getting married next week, and we’re also looking into adoption,” Lisa declared.
Nadia gaped at her. “Married? Where?”
“We’ll tie the knot on the beach, romantic, right?” Lisa said. “And then we’ll head back and rebuild Queenstown one brick at a time. I’ll miss you guys, but I promise to come visit all the time. We’re opening a trade route between us, after all.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Nadia declared, drawing Lisa into a tight hug. “What about the Ravagers?”
“The worst of them are facing trial, and they’ll likely be executed for their crimes. The rest will be given a choice. Stay and rebuild or leave and never come back. Neil as well,” Lisa said. “Oh, yeah, before I forget, Julianne is throwing a retirement party for the Zomketeers tonight.”
“What? Who gave them that stupid name?” Nadia asked.
“You did. They know the Zomketeers was like your baby, and you’re really sad to see it go. Hence the party.”
Nadia gaped at them. “You cows!”
They laughed at her.
“Oh, come on, admit it. You loved being a Zomketeer,” Cat said.
Nadia rolled her eyes. “Maybe a little bit.”
“I knew it!” Cat crowed.
Nadia waited her out before changing the subject. “What about you, Cat? What are your plans. We’ve heard Lisa’s.”
“Me? Oh, I’m staying right here where I belong with my best friend in the whole wide world,” Cat declared. “My mom is loving this place. She’s already shopping for a house on the beach.”
“Awesome. Planning on getting married too?” Nadia asked.
“Are you kidding?” Cat asked. “I just killed my fiance. Marriage is not on the cards for me, at least, not for a long time. What about you, Nadia?”
“Me?” Nadia smiled, and her eyes found the ocean. “For the first time in my life, I’m at peace, and I mean to keep it that way.”
The End.
If you’d like to find out what happens next then read further for a sneak preview of my other works as well as lots more apocalyptic fun!
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Chapter 1 - Morgan
The steady thudding of his fists on the door had become a part of her. Like the beating of her heart, she relied on the sound to keep her sane. It prevented her from screaming, reminding her she was still alive. For the moment, at least.
For what seemed like an eternity, Morgan huddled in the shower. With her arms wrapped around her knees, she listened to the constant crashes interspersed with frustrated hisses. An occasional drop of cold water from the shower head dripped onto her back. She might have sat there forever if a new sound hadn’t joined the first.
“No! No, no, no,” she cried, jumping to her feet.
The wood was splintering around the lock at a rapid rate. It wouldn’t last much longer. Raging adrenaline triggered a desperate need for survival. She scanned the small bathroom for a weapon. Her eyes landed on the shower rail.
Morgan grabbed it and shook off the curtain, ripping the plastic stoppers from the ends. She barely had time to ready herself before the door burst inwards with a shuddering crash.
Immediately, Brian was upon her, moving fast with hands outstretched and teeth bared in a vicious grin. Growls sawed through his throat, and his eyes were bloodshot and crazed. She gripped the rail and thrust it into his chest. He staggered, regained his balance and lunged again.
Morgan gasped, stumbling backward. Her mind slipped into pure terror. It was a scene from her worst nightmares. Again, she stabbed him with the pipe, but the blow skimmed off his shoulder. He grabbed her, digging his fingers into her arms with brutal strength while snapping at her face.
She pushed against his chest with the pipe held in both hands as a shield, trying to keep those teeth at a distance. He slammed her up against the wall. Pain exploded through her head as it smashed against the tiles. He had her in a death grip, bloody lips a mere breath from her face.
“What’s wrong with you?” she screamed. “Please stop! It’s me, Morgan.”
Time slowed as she stared into his eyes, searching for a sign that he was still human, still the man she loved, but his eyes were empty. Brian was gone.
Fear and determination lent her strength. With a great shove, Morgan pushed him away, kicking him in the stomach to gain distance. She lifted the rail and used it as a spear, aiming for his throat.
The metal end tore into the soft flesh, impaling him. Clotted, black blood spurted from the wound and splashed onto her chest. She pinned him against the opposite wall and slid him around like a dog on a leash until she stood with her back to the broken bathroom door.
Her newfound strength waned. With no idea what to do, Morgan bolted. Her bare feet slapped a staccato beat on the floor, echoed by Brian’s heavier tread. She slid around a corner and headed for the front door, silk pajamas billowing behind her. She slammed up against it and tore at the deadbolt with frantic fingers. With seconds to spare, she unlocked it and stumbled through, pulling the door shut as his body connected with a crash.
Morgan stumbled back on legs turned to water and stared at the peeling paint on the wood. Brian growled with anger, and she flinched as the now familiar beat of his fists filled the air. However, the bathroom door had been locked while the front door was not. The seconds ticked by as she waited.
Waited for him to open the door.
Waited for him to find another way out.
Waited for death.
Her husband had turned into a monster, and nothing made sense anymore. After a while, however, it became evident he didn’t know how to turn the knob. Nor did he have the intelligence left to look for another way out.
In the fresh air, Morgan fought to gain control of her body. Her heartbeat slowed, and she noticed her surroundings for the first time. Standing there on the front patio in her pajamas, she shivered and folded her arms across her body. What the hell is going on? What happened to Brian?
Until today, Morgan would never have believed him capable of harm. With searching fingers, she touched the marks his hands had left. It hurt, the flesh bruised. The back of her head was tender and swollen.
Morgan turned and stared out into the street. It was chaos. The whole neighborhood was going to hell. She stumbled across the lawn to get a closer look. Were there more people as sick as her husband? Was this a disease? Something that drove them crazy? It was the only explanation her frozen mind would accept.
Whatever it was, it was spreading with the ferocity of wildfire. A car sped around the corner, tires screeching. The driver never spared her a glance, and she was too numb to care.
To her left, a trio of sick people cornered a woman and ripped away at her flesh. The agonizing screams tore at Morgan’s heart before they were abruptly cut off. More bodies lay scattered around on the immaculate green lawns of their front yards.
A corpse stirred and rose to its feet. A man. He stood there, strips of flesh hanging off of limbs covered in blood. His intestines dragged on the ground as he staggered around. Morgan reeled, vertigo making her sway. It can’t be. He can’t still be alive!
Dogs barked at the monsters that used to be their owners until they too died in a welter of howls. Wincing at the distressing sounds, she realized anything and everything that moved would fall victim to these things. Further up the street, shots rang out. Through her fence, she glimpsed a man herding his family into a car.
Morgan knew she should move, but her limbs remained frozen to the spot until something caught her eye. One of the walking dead clawed at the palisades bordering her lawn. It rasped through a ruined throat and reached out a bloody hand as if in supplication. Behind it, two more had noticed and followed. I’m being surrounded!
This thought galvanized Morgan into action, and she sprinted around the house to the backyard. Brian’s truck was the only realistic means of escape. She ran to it and reached for the handle, crying out in frustration when she realized it was locked.
“Shit, where are the keys?” They hung on a board in the kitchen. “I can’t go back in there.”
She had no choice, though. Maybe if she moved fast enough, she could grab them and get out while Brian still hammered on the front door. Luckily, the back door was unlocked owing to her clandestine smoking habits. She had snuck out for a quick cigarette that morning while he still slept.
Before her nerves could fail, she rushed into the kitchen and ran to the board, searching for the keys. From the front of the house, she heard Brian’s grow
ls pause before they resumed in heightened pitch as they headed her way.
Morgan ran trembling fingertips over the keys, and heart hammered in her chest until she found the right ones. Grabbing them, she turned to run but fumbled her grip. They clattered to the floor.
“Fuck,” she cried, scrambling around on all fours.
The slap of Brian’s feet on the kitchen tiles caused her heart to stutter. She snatched up the keys and lunged outside. A brief glimpse of his pale, inhuman visage tore at her as she shut the door in his face. Morgan crumpled to her knees with a cry. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”
She reached up and laid a hand on the wood. It shivered beneath her palm from the force of his blows. “Brian, please come back. What am I supposed to do now?”
She was ready to give up and slumped down, but a voice from within nagged at her. Get up. Run.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
Do it. You can’t give up now. What about your family? Your friends?
“Oh, my God. Mom. Dad.”
Morgan bolted for the truck, barely noticing the gravel cutting into her bare feet. She pushed the remote button to unlock it and jumped in. After a deep breath, she turned the key in the ignition and shifted into gear.
At the gate, a mob of infected had gathered. They clawed through the gaps with creepy yearning. She hesitated. They were people, after all, but they also blocked the exit. This left her no choice. She had to go through.
“Here goes,” she said and pushed the remote button.
The gate opened, and they flooded inside, swamping the car. They beat on the windows and climbed onto the hood, crawling over each other like insects. She shuddered in disgust as one licked the window next to her face, leaving a smear of bloody spittle behind. For once, she was grateful she’d never gotten to know her neighbors.
Dangerous Nights (Book 3): Edge of Night Page 12