The World At End
Left Alive for the Dead Series
By H'deel Batnij
The World At End
©2014 H'deel Batnij
All rights reserved.
First Edition.
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, incidents, and places are from the author's imagination.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author, except brief quotations for/in articles and reviews.
Printed in the United States of America.
ISBN-13: 978-1497312616
ISBN-10: 1497312612
Editing by Vivian Cochran, Christina Worrell, and JD Nelson.
Soul Mission Font by RoCU.
Cover by author.
Hand and blood splatter vectors by PiXXart Photography.
Zombie hands by abf.
Girl photo by michelaubry photo.
City background by Sergey Nivens.
Skull by mip photography.
For great friends, family, and supporters.
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Table of Contents
Wither
Glimpse
Underground
Rage
Silence
Irrational
Twister
Truth
Boom
Brawl
Turmoil
Survive
Trip
Live
Wither
The world was at its end.
No, not Judgment Day end, but it was at the point where hardly anyone was seen alive these days.
But then, on the other hand, it could be Judgment Day.
Maybe there were survivors, but I haven’t seen any ever since the ‘happening’. Just three months ago there were people, animals, noise, and life. Now there’s nothing except for complete and utter silence of the dead!
Yeah, you could say I just let out the word ‘dead’.
The walking dead, as in ugly-looking cannibals who eat human flesh for a living. Other names they go by are Flesh-eaters, Walkers, and the ultimate cliché, Zombies – those are just some names. Now everyone should know by now once bitten, you’re considered one of the infected. If you get just one little scratch from these monsters, the virus infects your blood quickly, like the spread of AIDS... maybe faster than the spread of AIDS.
I’ve realized staying on the road is the only way for survival. I only stopped whenever I needed and had to. Right now, how could anyone not ride a solid black Hummer that consisted of missile-proof windows and body armor, that I, of course, fixed up on my own from reading a book for Idiots. It wasn't easy, but it was worth to learn how. Safety is pretty much one of the major important things these dying days.
I kept myself loaded with food, some games, water, knives, grenades, guns, ammunition, and a few good books to read so I didn’t get bored to death. During the day time I stayed on the road, but night fall came I would have to find a place to crash in, so I wouldn’t attract any deadlies from the noise of the Hummer’s engine.
A person can definitely expect to encounter a couple of these flesh-eating bastards while on their way. I did have trouble when a group would strike. Since I knew how to defend myself, thanks to my father who’d insisted on me to take self-defense classes, there was no trouble killing at least four at a time. I’d become very good at defending myself, and was even better with a gun. And to this day, I thank my father for making me practice and train when I was younger – you never know what can happen, so I was better off being prepared.
When I’d turned nine, my father had thought it best for me to train with professionals who taught me karate, kickboxing, and how to think while on my feet so I could react quickly. Firearms training started when I turned sixteen. My father had paid his best friend who was ex-special forces, to train me to use a gun, which meant I didn’t miss, couldn’t miss.
All through school, including college, I only had one friend. It was all I needed; one was good enough for me. I lost her, and lost her pretty darn quick though. How? Of course she became a zombie! She had been a true friend, always there for me, but now she was gone forever. I know she would’ve wanted me to put that bullet in her brain. Because I would want the same thing for her to do to me.
When people were alive, I always wanted the world to just be quiet, but looking at it now made me wish I hadn't thought that. I actually miss the comfort of lively humans. Three months of driving on my own, cross-country, and I had yet to find survivors. I’ve been alone ever since it all started. It made me sad. It made me think I was the only survivor left, but, with such thinking, that didn't mean I could lose all hope. I still believe that there are survivors out there, somewhere. I’m not giving up just yet.
My parents used to be rich enough, but they still used to work all the time, neglecting me. Mom refused to leave her job as she loved her work more than her own daughter. She hired a nanny to raise me, and they spared no expense when it came to what I wanted – as if money could buy everything in the world, even love. But no, I needed more than materialistic things. I needed love and support.
Knowing such cruelty broke me, but that didn’t prevent me from driving all the way from Austin, Texas to Phoenix, Arizona to visit them and just to see their lovely, familiar faces. Ever since the disease broke out, deep down inside I used to have a feeling that maybe they might’ve realized that there was something in their lives that they’ve neglected for so long that was more important than their jobs, more important than anything in the world. And that something was me.
Although returning to the house I’d turned my back on when I’d turned eighteen, it wasn’t easy. What really devastated me was how I found my parents. I had found my mother dragging our dead neighbor by the legs into our house. The blood trail I followed lead me to her. I had found my father down on his knees gobbling on another neighbor’s intestines, and other bits of flesh, like there was no tomorrow.
My entrance had not gone unnoticed. My parents shrieked at me, their mouths open and dripping with blood. The horrifying sight before me left me cold and sick. My parents had my neighbors remains stuck between their teeth, making me want to throw up everything in my stomach. The atrocious smell of death and decay polluted the air around me. Gagging, I understood what I had to do.
I’d never forget the look in their eyes or the blood that covered them from head to toe. Trembling, I raised my gun and blew them away. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
Since it’s a thing in the past, I thought about something that bothered me more than a lot of things. America was no longer the same place with billions of people - living people. It was at its end because of an outbreak that no one expected. We all thought we had time; time to live and time to love.
I still haven’t been in love, the most beautiful emotion of all. And not just any love, but true love. Ever since I was old enough to date, I had not taken the chance; not one single boyfriend or lover. A part of me was happy about that, proud even. I’d rather live and have someone who’ll stay with me and love me forever; permanently rather than temporarily. But since it was the end, would I think otherwise? Taking another deep breath, I thought, maybe it’ll never happen since it’s the end. It was a reminder every stinking day.
The radio stations were dead, nothing but static. Of course I played CD’s in my Alpha. Since the radio stations were dead, I really had no idea what's going on with the rest of the world. The last transmission ever received was the reporter saying something about New York being isolated. Isolated from what
I don’t know since he got cut off by a bunch growls, and they cut the air. I only had the music to distract me from not knowing anymore…
I figured I might as well travel, search for survivors along the way. Currently, I was in California heading to New York to see what the gist is about. It was a mission since there really was nothing else to do, in my opinion.
It was getting dark, and I needed a place to crash soon. As the sun set, I realized I really needed a break. I debated on where to crash for the night. Turning left, I noticed there were cars everywhere.
Ahead of me, there was a little shop. The sign read, “Simple Lights.” Instantly, I was aggravated and nervous. Chills swept across my skin as I looked at the six car pile-up in front of me, which blocked the way of the Hummer. I’d have to park here, and walk the rest of the way.
“Damn it,” I grumbled, keeping a sharp eye out for the undead.
Even if I could move some of the cars, it was a waste of my time, and it would make too much noise. It wasn’t worth risking my life.
Looking around, I made sure I was alone before I parked and got out. There was no sign of them. Not a single one which was somewhat comforting to me. The only humans I saw were the carcasses strewn haphazardly where they’d been eaten by the ill-fated. The road and sidewalk was smeared with dry blood, leftover organs, and mangled body parts.
Shutting off my rumbly Hummer, I waited to see if the sound of it had drawn the attention of any zombies. After a moment I decided the coast was clear.
After grabbing my shotgun, pistol, and overnight bag, I got out and locked up the Hummer. I used the key instead of the key fob which would make noise. Keeping as quiet as I could, I crept towards the store, my pistol out as a precaution, all the while being careful not to step on dead bodies. My eyes were wide open, searching for signs all around for any movement, searching for signs that I wasn’t alone.
Reaching the shop’s door, I push it open and prop my foot against the bottom of it. As I look around the shop I see a cluttered mess like paper, trash, and candles all in disarray.
Once I felt confident enough that there was nothing in there, I quietly slipped through the doorway. The place wasn’t huge. I was betting not many people bought colored candles nowadays, especially since the zombies. Or should I say back in the day…
A thorough search of the place showed that no one was behind the counter or in the only bathroom, dead or alive. There were no back or side doors or extra windows for me to guard, only the front door which I locked when I came in. Feeling more at ease, I sighed. The place may have been small, but it was pretty secure at least from walkers. I missed the comfort and security of my Hummer already.
Not long ago, I’d come up with the idea to tape black drapes over open windows. It made me feel safer. Using strong, silver duct tape I sealed each drape over a window. Feeling more comfortable now, I made myself at home. I tried sleeping in my car, and it would do if I had to stop, but it was packed to the brim. Even though I felt safe, it wouldn’t be if a horde surrounded me. I would need room to move or to get away.
Fortunately, and not in the least bit surprised, there was a small T.V. inside a shelf behind the counter. Sighing as I sat down on my impromptu bed (yes I sleep, sit, and eat on the ground), I brought the T.V. down while munching on a honey bun. Despite all the times I’ve been in stores that had a TV, I still checked for any miraculous signal to come on. As soon as the TV came to life, I muted the volume, and then surfed the channels. It was all blurry static – black and white with nothing.
Honestly, it was pointless to keep trying. After the fifth time of checking for a signal and finding nothing, you’d think I’d give up. Knowing me, I’d try again with the next TV I came across, and be just as disappointed and angry.
I turned the TV off and lay down on the linoleum and rested my head on my pillow, covering myself with my blanket. My handgun, as usual, was at my side and ready.
As I tried to get comfortable, my hand found a candle off to my right. The two swirling colors, red and blue, was kind of pretty. Closing my eyes while smelling the artificial berries, my brain began to fantasize the most beautiful place in the whole universe.
Before I died I wanted one thing, and that was to be in some mysterious pair of masculine arms. For once in my life I wanted to feel loved, wanted, cherished, and above all protected. Will it ever happen? I thought, my hope near dying. My eyes began to fill with tears as the thought and feeling of being in love will never happen.
I hugged the candle tightly against my chest before I drifted off in sleep, and before I let myself drown emotionally. I knew if I ever broke, I’d never get back up again.
Glimpse
The sound of tiny scurrying feet woke me. They had moved something not too far from me. It sounded like a rolling candle that had hit against a wall guard. My pistol was already in my hand, my finger ready at the trigger, pointing towards where the sound had come from. I was ready to shoot anything I saw, or hovering over me. Something small skittered across the floor nearby. Nervously, I searched spotting only a tiny mouse.
I released the breath I’d been holding in and took that cue to wake up.
Stretching, my aching joints popped, making me feel not so young anymore. Wish there was a bed, I thought. Looking at my watch, I see it’s only six-thirty in the morning. I’m pretty sure the zombies from last night were still out there roaming the streets.
Surprisingly, the electricity was still running here, or there was a backup generator somewhere that I haven’t gotten a chance to find that was keeping the place running. After I straightened my hair, I applied my makeup - something I did daily, and because I had nothing better to do. I know you must be thinking how pointless it was putting on makeup, but to me it wasn’t. It reminded me that there was once beauty in this macabre world.
After changing clothes, I ate another honey-bun for breakfast. I wished there was milk and coffee to go with this. It would have made my dreadful morning.
Since I’d hung the drapes, I had to use the lights of the shop to put my things away. It’s better to be one step ahead. I wanted to be packed and ready to go in case I had to make a run for it. I didn’t want to leave anything behind. I didn’t want to remember what I had to do to get some of this stuff, such as deodorant, toothpaste, and a toothbrush - the necessities.
Before I opened the door and left, I played it safe. I turned off the light and peeked through a corner of a window, and found nothing but the golden morning light as it shined over the cars and lit up the tragic scene outside. Chills ran down my spine as I imagined the horror that must’ve took place here.
Yawning, I jerk the curtains down and put them into my bag. Facing the door, I realize my morning would start off with a nerve tingling adventure. I face two rather decayed flesh-eaters. Well, they weren’t facing me really; they had their backs to me.
I was a little surprised they had not heard me fighting with the curtain a moment ago.
I took out my pistol from the holster on my thigh. Unlatching the lock on the door it clicked. And once they’ve heard it click it must’ve gotten their attention since they turned around to the source. Their rotten faces startle me. The look in their eyes tell me they want to sink their teeth into my warm flesh. Blood drips from their matted hair, eyes, and mouth. I could see their bones in places and it was obvious they’d just eaten someone.
Seeing fresh flesh in between what remained of their teeth, my skin crawled. It was not a view to start my day with, that was for sure. My poor, churning stomach didn’t agree with the visceral image before me.
I smiled then for some strange reason. Perhaps it was because of the gun in my hand or the beautiful sun which chased away the shadows, or maybe because I’m just used to it all?
Cocking my gun, they hissed. The expression on their faces was a familiar one to me: hunger.
Stepping back as they push the doors open with their bodies, I gave myself distance, keeping my eyes on them. Again they both hiss at m
e, wanting the searing blood that circulated through my body and warmed my flesh, making it the perfect, tempting temperature for them.
I planted my feet firmly on the ground as they came at me. Aiming carefully, I flexed my muscles and shot without difficulty or hesitation. Those two shots were pretty loud, echoing off the buildings, and could attract more of the dead.
Once that was over, I slipped the straps of the bag over my shoulders and ran like hell for the car while jumping over dead bodies. And it was more like slipping and sliding, as I made my way across the tops of the cars in my way, instead of going around them – pushing my key fob button to unlock the car.
My ears perk up once I hear hisses and growls from both sides. Great, I thought. Filled with adrenaline, I made the final push to the car. Opening the driver side door, I hopped in, closed the door, and locked it. My heart was pounding in my chest as I watched the zombies run for my car, and start banging on the windows from all sides like crazy. I took the straps off my shoulders and tossed the bag in the passenger seat beside me with the shotgun. Turning the key in the ignition, the engine rumbled to life.
It seemed the longer I stayed here, the more of them would come for me from out of nowhere.
I quickly drove out of there before my car became overwhelmed by the undead. I didn’t care who, or what, I drove over as long as I was getting the hell out of there. I didn't notice my hands were shaking like leaves on a tree until I got away.
Damn it! I’ll never get used to this horror-struck feeling. I was most definitely living in a horror movie, but it was stark reality.
Hours had gone by as I left miles of Californian roads in my rear-view mirror when, suddenly, my gray-hazel eyes spot someone all in black with the hoodie up. It was no zombie that was for sure.
You can tell if a person is a zombie or not from the way they walked. This was a human being. His back was more masculine than feminine. He was walking casually, like he was out just for a stroll. Doesn’t he hear the roar of my engine? I was within hearing range. Why won’t he stop and turn around?
The World At End (Book 1) (Left Alive for the Dead Series) Page 1