As The World Dies Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Frater, Rhiannon

  “You’re crazy! You killed her! You killed her!” The sobbing man lashed out, trying to grab hold of Jenni.

  Jenni shoved the man away from the window. “Get off me!”

  The man and Jenni screamed at each other as Katie let her foot up off the brake and tapped the accelerator. The truck rushed forward and Jenni fell back into her seat with a grunt. Katie braked again, grabbed the steering wheel, and pulled herself up. Jack scooted back, but kept barking.

  “She’s up!” Jenni yelled .

  Shoving her blond curls out of her face, Katie looked down the road at the undead creature crawling slowly toward them. Its torn body struggled to move, and the expression on its battered face was inhuman.

  “Honey, honey!” The man ran toward the zombie.

  “Fuck,” Katie groaned in resignation.

  “Run the bitch over and let him live,” Jenni said.

  “He won’t come with us if I do that,” Katie countered.

  “Save his damn life and then let him find his own way,” Jenni replied.

  The man was getting closer to the zombified woman.

  “Katie, do it.”

  With a weary sigh, Katie shifted gears, and the pickup rumbled as it surged forward. As they passed the heartbroken husband, he realized what they were doing and threw himself at the truck. He missed, falling to the pavement. Jack growled at the crawling zombie just before the truck’s front left wheel rolled over it. When they bumped over the woman’s body, the horrified howl of the man they were trying to save filled the air.

  Jenni leaned out her window and screamed at him, “She would have eaten you!”

  Katie continued driving, not looking back. Jenni fell backward into the cab and stared ahead while the dog twisted around to look out the window. Katie tried hard not to look into the mirrors. It was difficult enough hearing the man screaming in agony over the decimated body of his former wife.

  “We were just trying to help,” Jenni muttered, sulking.

  “I know,” Katie answered, and ran her fingers through her hair slowly. She massaged the tender knots on the top of her head with her fingertips and tried to relax. Her whole body was tense and painful. She had just run over a woman and reduced her to road kill. And yet, she had no regrets. In this new world, violence was the way to redemption.

  If only she could have released Lydia …

  Jenni looked grumpy as she propped her feet up on the dashboard. “He could have listened to us. We could have helped him.”

  “Not everyone understands what is going on,” Katie said after a beat. “I’m still adapting.”

  Sighing, Jenni pulled the dog close to her.

  2.

  Keep Moving Until You Stop

  Keep moving, Katie. Keep moving, her father’s voice whispered in her mind.

  Had he really said those words?

  She sighed and shifted in her seat. The air-conditioning was blowing full blast, making it nice and cool in the cab despite the sun blazing through the windshield. It was too hot to drive without running it anymore, despite the drain on the gas tank. Damn erratic weather had it cold in the mornings, roasting by noon, and cool in the evenings. Right now, it was at full broil. Four o’clock in the afternoon was the hottest part of the day.

  They had stopped for a short time to take a bathroom break and eat some of the food they had gathered at the gas station. Jack seemed to enjoy watering all the trees nearby while Jenni kept a close watch on him. Their four-legged companion showed no interest in darting away and kept close to the truck.

  Now Jack and Jenni had dozed off, Jenni curled up under the hunting jacket with the young German shepherd, no more than an overgrown puppy, beside her. Jenni’s head slightly rested on Katie’s thigh, and her black hair fell around her pale face. She and the dog were both snoring.

  The sound soothed Katie’s nerves for some strange reason.

  She had finally kicked off her shoes. Her sleeveless silk tank and navy blue trousers seemed brutally out of place in her new existence. She would need to find better clothes soon. Where, was the question. For miles, she’d seen nothing more than farmland and forest and occasionally a house set back from the road.

  Once they’d passed a farm where workers were patrolling the grounds with guns. One of them had waved at them, perhaps asking them to slow down, but Katie’s gut clenched at a glimpse of one man’s heavily bandaged arm, and they sped by.

  They weren’t the only paranoid ones. They had to go around a very small town that had set up roadblocks guarded by armed men. A huge makeshift sign had read NO OUT OF TOWNERS ALLOWED. It made sense. There was no assurance that the city folk weren’t bringing the infection with them.

  Ahead of the truck were more hills and more trees. It felt peaceful and surreal. Usually at this time of the day, Katie was either in court or buried under stacks of paperwork. Lunch—usually takeout—would be long gone, and she and Lydia would be texting back and forth as the day went on.

  Instead …

  She looked down at Jenni and sighed.

  Jenni unnerved her. Jenni was a battered wife—the faint bruising on her legs and one arm confirmed it. And as Lydia had often pointed out, Katie wanted to save the world and everyone in it. Already Katie felt very protective toward Jenni. She would do everything she could to take care of her.

  That thought gave her the will to move on and not give in to despair.

  Above the trees, an enormous billboard suddenly rose up.

  TOOMBS HUNTING STORE—STOP BEFORE YOU SHOOT!

  Katie laughed. Country people were one of a kind. She reached down and gently stroked Jenni’s hair. Exhaustion was pulling on her eyes and limbs. She longed for a nap, but she couldn’t let herself rest until they found a safe place for the night. The heat was making her drowsy, and she didn’t blame Jenni for catching some sleep. The stress of the day had been overwhelming at times, and she had a feeling this was Jenni’s way of coping. Checking out into the world of dreams seemed like a great way to escape the present chaos of reality.

  “We’re gonna be okay,” she promised the sleeping woman.

  The truck crested a hill. Below was a town of sorts—six buildings lined the road, four on the left, two on the right. Behind the buildings were fields and trees and a smattering of houses and trailers.

  A huge sign stood on top of the two-story building on the right.

  TOOMBS HUNTING STORE—GUNS, SUPPLIES, LICENSES AND MORE! STOP BEFORE YOU SHOOT!

  “Wonder if they have a zombie hunting license?” Katie murmured as she slowly drove into the town.

  The hunting store looked to be at least 150 years old, with thick stone walls and heavy iron bars over the windows. Framed by a pair of painted deer antlers, TOOMBS was painted in yellow letters across the big iron front door. The building looked like an old-time jail.

  Letting the truck idle in the middle of the street, Katie looked around before returning her gaze to the hunting store. The town was eerily quiet and devoid of any visible people. Unexpectedly, a shot rang out. Katie jumped in her seat. Jenni woke with a scream while Jack sprang to his feet and started barking.

  Katie had been so startled by the gunshot that for a second she wasn’t sure what was going on. Then she saw a small child lying on the ground right beside the truck, a neat hole blown through its head. Its torso and right arm were a mangled mess, the flesh ripped from the bones.

  “Shit,” she said.

  “Are you bit?” A male voice rang out through what sounded like a bullhorn.

  White-faced, Jenni held tightly to the growling dog.

  Katie leaned over and rolled down the passenger-side window low enough to yell, “We’re not bit! We’re looking for some help! Some guns! Supplies!”

  “Get out of the car slowly and show us,” the voice responded.

  “Don’t!” Jenni grabbed Katie’s arm. “They might hurt you.”

  “They shot the zombie. I think they’re okay.”

  Jenni’s hand shook as she wit
hdrew it. She looked at Katie fearfully.

  “It’s okay,” Katie said again. She whispered to Jack, “Stay,” and slipped out of the truck.

  Holding out her bare arms, shotgun in one hand, she slowly turned around. She caught a flash of color and looked up to see two elderly people on top of the gun shop. The man was holding the bullhorn; the woman had the gun.

  “And the other one.”

  “Jenni, get out. Leave the dog inside,” Katie said firmly.

  An apprehensive expression on her face, Jenni slowly slid out of the truck and took off her bathrobe. Her arms were bruised, but it was clear she had no blood on her.

  The elderly couple consulted each other, and the old man disappeared from view.

  “You better get back in the truck until he unlocks the door,” the old woman said through the bullhorn, her voice tinged with an accent. Then she set it down and picked up a rifle.

  Both refugees climbed back into the truck. Katie pulled the pickup as close as she could to the shop.

  “They could hurt us,” Jenni said softly.

  “They would have already if they wanted to,” Katie answered truthfully.

  Two more shots rang out, and Katie looked over in time to see two people fall dead just outside an old-fashioned grocery store. There were more zombies trapped inside, jostling about as they tried to get to the tasty morsels on the street. Most of the undead were pressed up against the windows, clawing at the glass. The two dead ones had stumbled through the rotating door to their doom.

  The big metal door to the hunting store opened, revealing an old man with thinning silver hair, dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt. Turning off the truck, grabbing the keys, and snagging Jack’s collar all in one deft movement, Katie exited the cab and hurried into the shop. Jenni followed, looking flushed.

  “Name’s Ralph. Wife is up top. Her name is Nerit,” he said as he bolted the door behind them. He was a slight man with keen blue eyes.

  “I’m Katie, this is Jenni, the dog is Jack,” Katie said.

  “Nice to meet ya,” Ralph said. He petted Jack, who gave him a big goofy doggy grin.

  “Thanks for letting us in. We’re pretty desperate for more weapons. We didn’t have much ammunition to begin with,” Katie explained.

  “Got plenty here,” Ralph said, and motioned about the shop.

  “I can pay,” Katie offered.

  “Money means nothing now, missy. We’ll do business later. Come meet the missus and relax. We’re safe in here.”

  Looking around, Katie saw rack upon rack of rifles and cases full of guns. The back of the store was full of all sorts of camping gear.

  Ralph started up the stairs. Realizing they were staying awhile, Katie followed. Her hand gripped her weapon a little less securely as she felt the tension in her body ease. Jenni slipped her hand into Katie’s as they climbed.

  “Are you sure this is okay?” Jenni asked.

  Katie cast a reassuring smile over her shoulder. “About as okay as anything is going to be today.”

  When they came out onto the roof, the absolute beauty of the hills around them struck Katie. Endless, rolling green hills, lush and beautiful spread out around them.

  A thin woman with long, yellowish white hair stood near the edge of the roof, rifle in hand. Nearby were a large tent, some chairs, and a small table. The older woman leaned over the table and crossed out three items on a list written on a notepad.

  “That’s the rest of the Greens,” she informed her husband.

  Katie gradually grasped that the scenery was dotted with dead bodies: fallen halfway into bushes, next to cars, and in the doorways of nearby houses.

  “Out-of-towner came here, bitten. Went into the store. Now they’re all dead. Some got out and went home. Infected their families. Got seventy in the town. We’ve shot twenty dead. Not accounting for tourists,” the old man informed them, hands tucked into his pants.

  “You’re both okay, though,” Katie said.

  “Yeah. Store’s closed today. It’s my birthday.” Ralph shrugged.

  Nerit smiled at her spouse before narrowing her eyes at something down the road and raising her rifle. She shot, turned, and crossed off another item—and Katie realized the list was made up of the names of everyone in town.

  “Last of the Millers,” Nerit said in a rich accent.

  “Nerit is from Israel. She was a sniper in the Israeli army. Married her two years ago. Glad I did. Dead-on shot.”

  Nerit gave Ralph a slight smile. “That better not be the only reason you’re glad you married me, old man.”

  Ralph chuckled. “One of many reasons, honey.”

  Katie laughed and looked at Jenni. She was glad to see the other woman was actually smiling. Jack sauntered over to an old hunting dog lying nearby.

  “That’s Tucker. He won’t mind the pup. He’s too old.” Ralph shook his head sadly. “Damn shame to happen on my birthday. Damn zombies.”

  “Car coming, Ralph,” Nerit said.

  They all drew close to the edge and saw a very fine silver car pull up. A man climbed out and looked around frantically. He was completely oblivious of the hungry zombies in the store behind him.

  He spotted the people on the roof and started waving. “Hello!”

  “Shit, it’s the guy from the gas station,” Katie said to Jenni.

  Jenni narrowed her eyes. It was obvious she remembered the man who had been such an ass earlier in the day.

  “Six-figure guy,” Jenni murmured.

  “Yeah,” Katie said. “Wonder how he made it out here.”

  “Hello! I’m looking for Madison! The radio says there’s a rescue center there!” Six-Figure Guy kept waving at them, stirring up the zombies even more.

  Ralph raised the bullhorn. “Are you bit?”

  Katie noticed then that the man’s forearm was heavily bandaged. She looked at Jenni. The dark-haired woman was staring at the newest arrival with a blank expression.

  The guy looked at his arm. “I have lots of money! I can pay you for your help! I need to get to Madison and get medical attention.”

  “Are you bit, son? If you are, my wife here can help you out,” Ralph replied.

  “Well…” The man hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, but it’s slight. I’m sure—”

  The crack of the rifle made Katie flinch.

  The man stood with a shocked look on his face for a second, then fell forward. Nerit had shot him through the forehead.

  “He wasn’t turned. We just can’t do that,” Katie protested.

  Nerit regarded Katie with an expression that was set with determination. “Yes, we can.”

  “And you’re going to have to,” Ralph added. “If you’re going to survive.”

  Katie stood, eyes blinking rapidly, and shook her head. “Oh, God.” It was one thing to kill the ones who had already turned, but innocents who were infected? Could she do that?

  “Anyone who is bit is going to become one of those things. Gotta shoot them and put them down. Only way.” Ralph stood somberly, with his hands tucked into his jeans pockets. “Only way to keep safe and keep their numbers down.”

  Katie remembered Lydia and shivered.

  “Now, come on downstairs for a bit to eat. Sun is about to start down, and we don’t want to have empty stomachs,” Nerit said, walking past them with her rifle.

  “She cooks real good. First we eat, then look at guns, maybe shoot a little, then sleep.”

  Jenni sighed contentedly, obviously relaxing. “I’m so happy we are here. It feels good to be around real people, not dead ones or stupid ones. We saw a few of those on the road.”

  “I’m sure you did,” Nerit said sadly.

  Ralph smiled at Jenni and put a gentle arm around her shoulders. “Glad to have company. Glad to help you two out.”

  Jenni, Nerit, and Ralph headed downstairs, leaving Katie standing on the roof in quiet contemplation. She looked at Jack, who returned her gaze. If she had a choice, to die quickly or turn into one of th
ose things, which would she prefer? Letting out a soft sigh, she rubbed her forehead.

  “Jack, has the world gone crazy and everyone in it?”

  Jack slightly whined.

  “Thought so.”

  Together they followed the others down the stairs.

  3.

  The World Ends

  Below, Katie saw that Nerit and Jenni had veered off into an old-fashioned kitchen while Ralph continued down the hall to a comfortable living room. If not for the enormous flat-screen TV, it would have looked like the Norman Rockwell version of the perfect grandparents’ home. The big TV was on and scenes of violence were playing silently; in a corner of the screen, big green lettering read MUTE.

  “Got tired of watching. Too much talk, too little information,” Ralph told her with the shrug of his bony shoulders.

  Katie stood mesmerized at the scenes of mayhem. Dutifully recorded by the media, visions of destruction and violence played out on the screen. A reporter came into view obviously standing high above street level, out of the range of the violence. It looked like New York City. Throngs of bloodied, crazed people were running down the street, attacking cars, buildings, and the people within. The army was firing at will into the crowd.

  “This morning, the authorities called it race riots. When the crisis hit more cities, they called it mob violence. Early this afternoon, they started calling them ‘the infected. ’”

  Ralph sat in a comfortable, overstuffed chair while Katie sank down slowly on a flowered sofa with big crocheted doilies decorating the back and armrests. Jack sat at her feet and yawned.

  “I haven’t seen any of this,” she admitted. “I was attacked during the early-morning rush hour. A man tried to rescue me, but they got him. Jack belongs—belonged—to him. On Jack’s vet papers, it says his owner was the Reverend William Horton. He saved my life.”

  Ralph tilted his head toward her sympathetically, regarding her. “And you saved the girl with you.”

  “Yes.” Katie’s gaze remained fixed on the screen, which was now showing a map of the United States, highlighting where the violence was occurring. “I had driven home to check on my … spouse.” She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to come out of the closet to this old-timer. “It was too late.”