Zombie Armageddon: A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Survival (Last Man Standing Book 1)

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Zombie Armageddon: A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Survival (Last Man Standing Book 1) Page 3

by Max Lockwood


  The last creature was considerably smaller than the others but had the same intense rage as the toughest opponents. Ellie closed her eyes as Matthew stabbed it square in the chest before dragging the knife down to the gut. It fell on top of the others with a horrible shriek.

  When it was finally finished, Ellie shrank back onto the twisted metal frame of the desk, trying to keep the meager contents of her stomach where they belonged. Genevieve sat on the floor, nursing her damaged leg. Having just killed more zombies by hand than he ever had before, Matthew folded his hands on top of his head and walked to the nearest wall. He pressed his sweaty face on the cool tile and closed his eyes.

  Turning around, he slid down the wall and crouched on the floor, his head bowed so low that it almost touched his knees. His limbs felt like gelatin and his lungs burned with every breath.

  When he finally regained his strength, he stood up straight and strode back toward the door. The immediate threat was over, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.

  “What are you looking for?” Ellie asked as Matthew looked around wildly.

  “Anything. Something to block the door with.”

  Ellie let out a chuckle. “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.”

  “Why not?”

  She pointed a stubby finger at the door. “I don’t think it’s going anywhere. There are enough bodies blocking it. I don’t think any more can get through.”

  As he walked toward the door to examine the human blockade, he nearly slipped and fell in the pool of blood. His shoes stuck to the floor as the liquid started to congeal. Ellie was correct—the masses of dead zombies made it seemingly impossible for anything else to get through the door. Lifting up a few of the smaller bodies, Matthew tossed the dead into a neat pile, stacking them high.

  “Disgusting,” Genevieve said, crinkling her nose at the nearly severed heads that flopped around when they were tossed onto the pile.

  “I know. It’s utterly macabre,” Ellie agreed. “I’ve taken countless biology classes in my time. I’ve dissected just about any living creature there is. Something about this makes me a little queasy, and I’m not squeamish about much. What about you, Matthew?”

  “Huh?” he muttered. “Oh, yeah, they’re pretty grotesque. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “I should hope not,” Ellie replied.

  Matthew didn’t mention that he had seen some pretty macabre horrors as a soldier. The women knew that Matthew was in the army and that he was a capable soldier, but they didn’t know the details of his experience. They appreciated that he was skilled in hand-to-hand combat and knowledgeable about security measures, so they didn’t press the topic. He didn’t willingly offer up any stories from his past.

  People tended to get weird when former soldiers shared stories of their work with civilians. Of course, people would beg for stories, wanting to hear the most horrible tales. In the end, no one really wanted to hear what he had to say. Then, friendships were never quite the same. People looked at you funny when they found out that you had been to hell and back.

  That, and it was never like the movies. People wanted to hear stories of daring deeds and heroic endeavors. In reality, most of the time, work involved talking to civilians and making sure they were safe. Other times, the gruesome stories weren’t shootouts from the front lines. Instead, they had to walk through the aftermath of bombings, sorting the dead from the dying. Occasionally, they had to kill insurgents, but this was often left to the drones.

  In short, it was never a good idea to give too many details about the military. Not only was it painful to recall, but no one was equipped to handle that kind of information. It was best to keep things vague.

  “Do we go now?” Genevieve asked.

  Matthew looked to Ellie. She shrugged in response.

  “What if we stay here for a little while?” he asked. “If we can secure the area, then it’s not a bad place to crash until we’re ready to move on. I mean, you can’t even walk, Genevieve.”

  “I wouldn’t mind resting,” Ellie said, climbing out of the wreckage. “I can walk, but I don’t think I could run for very long at all. There’s got to be a small room we can lock ourselves inside. I’m willing to bet we can find some food and water here, too. I’m absolutely dehydrated.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Matthew said. “If you two want to find a smaller space with a solid door, I can make sure the rest of the building is secure. I mean, at the very least, I’ll secure the atrium.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Ellie said brightly.

  “Yes, good,” Genevieve agreed.

  Ellie walked over to the other scientist and helped her to her feet. Genevieve wrapped her arm around Ellie’s shoulder and hopped down the hall, looking for a place to set up camp.

  Matthew headed in the opposite direction, checking all the doors and windows. He clutched his weapons, ready for any sudden surprises. His muscles tensed up as he prepared to fight at a moment’s notice. It was exhausting to be on guard all the time, and he desperately hoped he would have a moment to relax.

  Even when he was deployed to some dangerous area, there was always a chance to unwind at camp. Sometimes, his orders dictated that he be on duty for over twenty-four hours. But when it was all over, he was allowed to sleep or play card games with the others. A nap and a decent meal made all the difference when it came to one’s mental state. Even though the MREs blocked up his digestive tract, a full stomach had a calming effect on his mind. Decompressing by looking at magazines or listening to music helped, too. He hoped he would find a way for the three of them to unwind in the high-rise.

  After ensuring that there were no zombies lurking around the ground floor and that the windows and doors were properly sealed, he heard a woman’s voice call his name from the distance. Fearing the worst, he ran toward the sound, ready to defend his companions.

  “What’s wrong?” he gasped when he reached the other two.

  “Nothing,” Ellie said, a bewildered expression on her face. “I was just trying to get your attention. We think we found a good place to hang out. What do you think?”

  They showed him a plain cement room with a couple of couches and a vending machine. An old TV with wire antennas sat in the corner. It was perfect.

  “Nice find,” Matthew said, smiling for the first time in days. He checked the doorknob for a lock and was pleasantly surprised to find a deadbolt.

  “How’s the rest of the building?” Ellie asked.

  “Well, I don’t know about the other floors, but we should be good down here. We’ll definitely be okay while we’re in this room. It looks like a break room or something.”

  “For the guards,” Genevieve suggested.

  “I think you’re right,” Matthew replied. “It’s even got food and drinks.”

  “Do you want to do the honors?” Ellie asked, handing him a paperweight she pulled from the top of a stack of napkins.

  “Sure,” he said. “Cover your eyes.”

  He pelted the front of the machine with the glass sphere, effectively punching a hole in the glass. He covered his hand with his sleeve and carefully pulled out packages of crackers and fruit snacks. Then, he focused his attention on the drink machine, prying the lock open with his knife. Cool air spilled out as he collected bottles of water.

  “Thank goodness,” Ellie moaned as she guzzled the water. “I thought I was going to die of thirst.”

  “Same,” Genevieve said. “It’s hard work to walk on a hurt leg.”

  Matthew closed the door and locked it as Genevieve slumped down on the old plaid couch. She gingerly hoisted her injured ankle onto the arm of the couch, cushioning it with a pillow.

  “Here,” Ellie said, picking up a forgotten scarf from a folding chair. “Let me wrap up that ankle of yours.”

  Genevieve carefully removed her shoe, revealing a swollen foot and ankle. Ellie expertly wound it around the injury, taking care to apply just the right amount of pressure to the sw
elling. When she was finished, she elevated it on the pillow.

  “I don’t think it’s broken, but it’s got to be a pretty bad sprain,” Ellie said. “You’re going to want to keep your weight off it for as long as possible.”

  “Ha,” Genevieve said dryly. “It’s not possible. We have to run all the time.”

  “Not right now,” Matthew said gently. “We have nowhere to be at the moment. Let’s just use this opportunity for as long as we can, okay? Ellie, do you have anything in your pack for her pain?”

  Ellie unzipped a small pouch she had buckled over one shoulder and under her other armpit. After a little digging around, she opened a little pill bottle and poured out three red tablets.

  “I don’t think it’s going to help with the pain a whole lot, but it might help with the inflammation,” she said, pouring them into Genevieve’s cupped hand. “I wish I had something a little stronger than that. I know we should be on high alert, but I wouldn’t mind being able to chill out.”

  Matthew smirked. “You can’t tell me you aren’t exhausted. Why don’t the two of you take a nap? Hell, get a full night’s sleep if you want. I’ll stay up and keep watch. I don’t anticipate anything happening, but I’ll feel better if I can keep a lookout.”

  Ellie opened her mouth to protest, but Matthew nodded his head toward the other couch. Genevieve’s eyelids were already halfway closed. The three hadn’t had much time to sleep in the last few days and he knew that Ellie was exhausted. He worried that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with their fast pace for much longer if she didn’t give her body time to repair.

  “Look, I can’t force you to sleep, but you should at least lie down,” Matthew urged.

  She gave him a stern look but obliged. To appease her, he sank down into a creaky armchair.

  “Today has been just terrible,” she said, rubbing her temples.

  “Terrible,” Genevieve echoed sleepily.

  “I know,” Matthew said, looking at the floor. “But we made it out in one piece. Every day you’re not a zombie is a good one.”

  The women snickered as Matthew helped himself to a second bottle of water. Cracking the lid, he kicked his feet up on a mismatched coffee table. From inside the drab concrete room, Matthew couldn’t even hear the sounds of the city collapsing around them. For the small reprieve from the horrors of the world, he was thankful.

  4

  After much arguing, Matthew finally convinced Ellie to close her eyes and try to sleep. She was kind but stubborn and tried to persuade him to sleep instead while she kept watch. The energy it took to debate was too much for her in the end, and she relented as long as Matthew promised to wake her up the moment he felt tired. Though he was already a little tired, he repeatedly told her that he was too wired from the zombie ambush to sleep.

  Within minutes, he could hear soft snores from her side of the room. Genevieve had gladly accepted the offer for rest and had fallen asleep in the middle of their argument. Every once in a while, she mumbled something in French that Matthew could never make out. He wished he had studied the language more when he’d had the chance.

  Genevieve spoke decent English for someone whose main focus was science. Her understanding of the English language was flawless except when it came to the odd expression. But when it came to speaking, Genevieve sometimes struggled to string the right words together. However, as Matthew spent more time with her, it became easier to understand what she meant. Occasionally, he even found himself speaking in the same broken language. Ellie got a kick out of this.

  Ellie was a bit ditzy at times, but she also acted motherly toward the other two. She was at least ten years his senior but sometimes displayed less common sense than he would expect a woman her age to have. She was sweet, though, and she always wanted to help. Like Genevieve, Ellie was also a scientist, but he didn’t know what kind. Every once in a while, she would say something that sounded rather intelligent, just to become embarrassed and backtrack. It made Matthew question whether she was actually adept at whatever it was that she did.

  Genevieve, on the other hand, had been working with the Center for Disease Control when the zombie virus broke out. The poor thing hadn’t been in the country for more than two weeks when everything went to crap. Unable to go home due to the travel ban, she was forced to stay in an unfamiliar place without friends or family around.

  Everyone had a similar story. The outbreak was immediately a major inconvenience, then it became downright tragic and horrifying. Everyone knew someone who had either been turned or killed. People lived in terror, not knowing when it would spread to their neighborhood. There was no preparing for it either—it moved quicker than anyone could possibly imagine. Matthew had always scoffed at the doomsday-prepper types, but now he wished he had gathered supplies or built a bunker himself.

  There was no changing the past though. The only thing he could do was move forward and keep the couple of people he’d picked up along the way safe. The world needed to keep all the healthy people it could.

  Slouching in his chair, Matthew took a deep breath through his nose. For the first time in a while, he didn’t smell the putrid stink of death. The tiny break room smelled like artificial vanilla and lavender. While it wasn’t his favorite scent, it was a welcome change from metallic blood and rotting flesh. The low-level nausea that usually plagued him was unnoticeable as he took cleansing, appreciative breaths.

  He realized how absurd it was to be in a situation where he was happy not to breathe in thick, putrid air. Had death and decay become normalized? He hated thinking that anything about the disaster was normal.

  Matthew still couldn’t wrap his head around the whole thing as it was. He had never enjoyed horror movies, and now he was living in one. As far as he knew, no one really had a good idea of how the outbreak began or why it was even happening. He had heard little pieces of information about laboratory disasters, but it all sounded like Science Fiction to him.

  In fact, he had a hard time wrapping his head around the very concept of a zombie. Just a month ago, he would have laughed at anyone who deigned to believe in the very existence of the monsters. Zombies were creatures from low-budget horror films, not real life. It made it all the harder to keep two feet grounded in reality.

  Then, there was the whole issue of what the creatures really were. The only thing human about the beasts was their general shape. Otherwise, they were something straight from hell. But they weren’t exactly dead, despite the fact that he had seen several wandering around without crucial limbs.

  The whole situation was too weird to comprehend. He’d have to leave it to the scientists and the government to sort out. In the meantime, he’d protect himself from being ripped to shreds by a half-human creature.

  As the women slept, he popped Cheetos into his mouth and waited for them to wake up. Matthew could hear movement above his head, certainly zombies who had turned on the upper floors and had not made their way down the stairs yet. He wasn’t sure what the freaks were capable of, but he would prepare for them if they figured out how to come down from their perch.

  His eyes felt incredibly heavy, but he couldn’t possibly close them. He had this terrible feeling that the second he fell asleep, zombies would tear down the doors and slaughter them all. That, or slide down the heat ducts and bash open the flimsy metal cover. Every seemingly impossible way they could attack, Matthew imagined it.

  Genevieve mumbled something in her sleep so enthusiastically that Matthew couldn’t help but laugh. He pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle the sound of his giggle.

  It was strange how fond he had grown toward the two women in such a short period. Time after time, he was ready to put his life on the line for them when he didn’t even know the first thing about them. He had no reason in particular to want to keep them safe, besides the fact that they were innocent and needed a little help. He shuddered at the thought of where they would be without him. Conversely, they had also been a big help to him in a couple of sticky situat
ions.

  There was one time in particular that Matthew would never forget. Shortly after meeting the two, he had been telling them about his time in the military and not-so-subtly bragging about his combat training. Within the hour, he had taken on too many zombies in an abandoned warehouse and Genevieve had to create a diversion while Ellie risked her life to give him a hand. At first, it was utterly humiliating to have two out of shape women save his ass, but he was humbled into appreciating their group dynamic.

  Matthew wasn’t sure if he had always been a macho try-hard or if the military had instilled that in him. Acting tough around his wife would never fly in his household. No, she would laugh until she cried if he’d ever tried to order her around. But during tough times, he’d found himself barking out orders to anyone who could hear him and taking the brunt of the work. He just couldn’t help himself.

  After sitting in the lumpy chair for a few hours, Matthew’s legs began to go numb. He was envious of the two couches currently occupied by his companions. The cushions looked like they were filled with more dust than stuffing at that point, but it was certainly better than anything else they had found in days.

  Matthew quietly got up from his chair and found a spot on the floor to stretch out. He pointed his toes and reached his hands to the opposite wall, taking up as much space as possible. Then, he rolled to his side and curled up, tucking his left elbow underneath his head. When this proved to be too conducive to sleeping, he turned flat on his back and stared up at the dusty ceiling.

  Ellie sat up abruptly, startling Matthew. She frantically looked around the room before her body softened again.

  “Did I wake you?” he whispered, feeling guilty.

 

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