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

by Frater, Rhiannon

  “They got him,” the old man said softly.

  Lydia rushing toward her, screaming, her chest torn open …

  Katie wiped away a tear. “Yes.”

  Ralph shook his head. “It’s gone crazy. The whole world.”

  The reporter was now interviewing a man in a doctor’s white coat.

  “… and for anyone to suggest that this is anything other than a viral infection that causes psychotic behavior is ludicrous. We are not living in the Dark Ages,” the doctor said firmly.

  “Because of the nature of the severe wounds on the attackers, people are claiming they are actually the reanimated dead,” the reporter pointed out.

  “Preposterous! We live in a modern era of medicine and science, not superstition. If we do not treat this as a medical crisis immediately, we are doomed. Those who have been bitten and are infected must immediately report to the nearest hospital for treatment.”

  “Most of the hospitals are now overrun with what the CDC is calling reanimated corpses,” the reporter said.

  “The CDC has fallen prey to the hysteria of a population overwhelmed by the mass infection of an Ebola-like virus. …”

  Ralph muted the TV. “’Bout one o’clock, they said not to go to the hospitals anymore. Then the CDC came on and said it was a bunch of dead people getting up. Called them reanimated corpses. Found it funny. Nobody wants to say zombie.”

  Katie smiled slightly, remembering her own reluctance to embrace that word. When had that changed? She wasn’t sure. But it was clear to her now that the dead had returned.

  Mesmerized, she watched reporters around the world trying to broadcast only to be run down and torn apart. She watched anchormen and -women break down crying as more and more reports flowed in. Maps were flashed on the screen showing where blackouts were occurring. TV helicopters hovered over masses of the reanimated dead as they ran through the streets howling, chasing anyone still alive. Scenes of fires burning, armies firing, bombs exploding …

  “It’s the end,” the old man said.

  Katie rubbed her face and glanced at him. “You think so.”

  “Too many of them now,” Ralph answered grimly.

  Katie wiped away another tear and looked back at the screen. A reporter was sobbing as he read a list of overrun shelters to be avoided. Ralph flipped a channel to show Chicago on fire. More maps showing the infection. Their part of Texas, Katie noted, was free of any of the major markers. That figured, since they were in a sparsely populated area. The cities and larger towns were death traps. She was relieved; she had made the right choice to run into the hills.

  A hand tenderly took hers as Jenni sat down next to her. Katie smiled slightly and squeezed Jenni’s shaky hand.

  “The president is being evacuated from the White House to Camp David and will soon release a statement to the nation,” the local anchorwoman said, her lips trembling. “We are about to abandon our station to go to a shelter. Anyone who is still watching this, stay where you are, be happy if you are with your family. Don’t go into the cities. Don’t risk it. Don’t listen to what anyone on the news is saying. We don’t know anything. No one does. Just fight to live until you don’t want to go on anymore. My family is dead. I just got the word. Do you understand?” She was crying openly now, and her co-anchor reached out to calm her. “I don’t want to die like that. I don’t want to be one of those things! It’s all over!”

  The camera started to swing away from her, but it wasn’t fast enough to keep viewers from seeing the anchorwoman lift a gun to her chin. The sharp retort and blood splatter hitting the co-anchor were vivid evidence of her suicide.

  Jenni sobbed as Ralph switched off the TV.

  “She had some good advice. They don’t know nothing. I got more information watching zombie movies on the late-night picture show,” he decided.

  Katie shakily stood up. Nerit came to hold Jenni and whisper to her soothingly. Jenni continued to sob loudly. Jack whined and tried to soothe her with little doggy kisses. Katie moved on stiff, numb legs across the living room and pushed back a heavy brocade curtain at the window.

  The sun was setting behind the hills. Below her, in the street, stood a man, bloody and mutilated, looking left, then right, over and over again. She knew if he looked up and saw her, he would start that horrible shriek.

  Katie let the curtain fall back into place. Standing before the window, she felt herself let go of the old world and embrace the new. She would survive this. She would go on. That was all there was to it. She wouldn’t give up without a fight. She would do whatever it took to survive.

  Turning to Ralph, she said, “When’s dinner?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  1.

  Purgatory

  Jenni was bored.

  Her finger clenched.

  The head with the long blond hair burst, and the body tumbled forward.

  “Dwayne Emory,” Ralph said behind her.

  Nerit crossed another name off the list.

  They all stood on the roof of the hunting store once more. The evening sky spread out above them, a lush panorama of cold stars and velvet darkness. The zombies of the small town spread out on the dirty street below in a shambling mess of dead flesh and lost hopes.

  “See if you can get the one over the corner?” Ralph suggested, pointing.

  Jenni aimed again, her finger squeezed, and another head popped like an overripe tomato.

  The evening had started off well enough. A delicious dinner with good conversation followed by cheesecake made her feel better than she had all day.

  Afterwards, they had trudged downstairs into the shop at Katie’s insistence.

  Nerit had found a skirt and T-shirt for Jenni to wear, and she felt more comfortable. She had thrown the bathrobe and nightgown away with disgust, never wanting to see them again. The color pink would forever haunt her. She wanted to forget about this morning and those tiny fingers … those tiny fingers. …

  Ralph had shown them around his spacious store, explaining the history of the well-fortified building. Originally, it had been the town jail, before the great fire that wiped out most of Main Street, and then it had been the town bank. Finally, when the town had mostly died out, it became a hunting store.

  “Hunters come here for all seasons. Make a good living off of them. And the Internet,” Ralph said as he showed them a state-of-the-art computer. “I sell hunting and camping gear online. Works well. Makes money.” The little offices in the back doubled as the city hall and post office. Ralph was the mayor and Nerit, the postmistress.

  The building was jammed with everything a small town could need. Jenni found it all very boring. Katie, though, was absolutely riveted by everything Ralph explained to her. They had talked about all sorts of things that Jenni didn’t understand or care about. Small-town politics, law enforcement, gun laws …

  Jenni had wandered to the front door and watched two women slowly eat away at Six-Figures Guy. One of them looked up at her, snarled, and ran for the window. Jenni didn’t flinch when the woman ran straight into the heavy metal bars and busted her face open. The zombie tried to wedge a hand through the bars, and Jenni watched the woman’s torn fingers scratch futilely at the window.

  So much like those tiny fingers …

  “More are getting out of that store. Gonna have to put them down tonight or we’ll have issues in the morning,” Ralph stated behind her.

  Then had come the most tedious part of the night. Two hours of Ralph going over the variety of guns they had to choose from. They went through a slew of guns until they found at least two they were comfortable with. Finally, they had trudged back up to the roof and gotten a lesson on loading and reloading the guns.

  Finally, they had started shooting zombies. That was much better.

  Jenni had enjoyed shooting the woman who had rushed the window. Now she stood next to Katie, the night wind buffeting her dark hair, aiming at yet another zombie as it staggered out of the darkness and into the light pooling b
elow the streetlamps. Tilting her head slightly, she studied his labored swagger, his profuse beer belly. His wife-beater shirt was stained with blood and gore.

  She shot him in the knee.

  He went down, growling, clawing at the ground. Over and over again, he tried to get up, only to have his leg give way beneath him. Finally, he looked up and saw her. Shrieking, he reached up hungrily.

  Jenni narrowed her eyes and fired.

  The bullet punched neatly through his head.

  “Nerit and I have been talking, and we know you said you just want supplies, but we want you to consider staying here. Once we clean out the town, it will be safer than the world out there.”

  Jenni turned swiftly. “We can’t!”

  Katie flicked the safety on her rifle and reached out to calm Jenni with a gentle touch on her arm. “We need to get her stepson. He’s stranded out at a camp in the state park.”

  Ralph scratched his chin. “When you get him, then what?”

  Katie glanced at Jenni, then back at Ralph. “Honestly, we haven’t talked about it.”

  Jenni hung back a little behind Katie. She really liked the old people, but wasn’t sure this was the place for them. She liked Katie being in charge, and she wasn’t sure about changing that dynamic. Yes, they had spent only maybe ten hours together in the car, but in that time, she had grown to trust Katie. Suddenly, she just wanted to be in the truck, with Katie and Jack, and far away from here.

  “Well, you’re welcome to come back here. Nerit and I could use the company. The town is gone,” Ralph said; then his keen gaze caught sight of something below. He took steady aim and fired. “Gunshots are bringing them out. Might as well clean up as many as we can.”

  Nerit inclined her head in agreement and took up a position at the back of the building.

  After an hour of firing, it was clear that whatever could walk their way had done so. Whatever remained of the town was likely locked away in houses or cars. The street was littered with bodies: young, old—male and female. A few dogs wandered over to sniff at the bodies before darting away, whimpering.

  Jenni’s ears hurt from gunfire and zombie shrieks despite the earplugs she wore, and she felt rather moody as they were shown into the guest bedroom.

  “Hope you don’t mind sharing,” Ralph said.

  “It’s fine,” Katie assured him.

  “Bathroom is through that door. Laid out big T-shirts for you gals to wear. See you in the morning,” he said, and shut the door.

  Jenni sat on the bed and exhaled slowly. She watched as Katie tossed aside the hunting jacket she had worn on and off since she rescued Jenni. Katie sat on the bed beside Jenni, kicked off her high heels, and sighed.

  “You want to shower first?” she asked.

  “Katie, are we coming back here?”

  Katie sighed again, her hands resting on her knees. “Maybe. It seems about safe as it’s going to get.”

  Jenni nodded, letting her hair fall into her face. “I just…” Jack nosed her hand and she started to pet him slowly. “I just … just…”

  “It’s too much right now. I know. Too many changes.” Katie put a gentle arm around Jenni’s shoulders and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Too much to deal with…”

  “I felt safe in the truck,” Jenni whispered. “I know that sounds stupid, but I felt safe with you driving and Jack on my lap. But here … we have to shoot things and be behind bars and it feels…”

  “Like a prison?”

  “Like I’m back home, not able to go out when Lloyd isn’t with me. Having to…” Jenni faltered. It was hard to explain that today had been the most “free” day of her life in more than a decade. She clung to Katie and wept. Wept out of guilt because she felt free and because that freedom existed only because Lloyd was gone and so were her babies.

  Katie held her tightly, her fingers lightly stroking her hair. It took Jenni a second to realize Katie was crying, too.

  “It’s okay. We’re safe and we need to remember that,” Katie said soothingly. “Tomorrow, we’ll do what we have to do. And the day after that. And the day after that.”

  Jenni clung to Katie. “Okay … okay … I trust you.” And she did. With all her heart.

  Later, when Jenni came out of the shower, pink and clean, hair glistening, Katie combed her hair and dried it with a towel before helping her into bed. For the moment, Jenni felt utterly safe and content. Tears still flowed, and her sobs came in soft hiccups, but she felt comforted by Katie’s presence.

  “It’s okay to cry now,” Katie murmured.

  Jenni covered her face with her hands and wept.

  For her dead children, for the dead world, and for her newfound freedom …

  2.

  The Moment

  The water sluiced off Katie’s body as she sat at the bottom of the old-fashioned tub—complete with clawed feet. Her forehead rested on her knees. With her hands flat on the tops of her feet, she sat sobbing softly. How long she had sat there, she wasn’t sure, but the water was growing cold. Soon after climbing into the shower, she had been overcome with grief. Sobs had racked her body with such viciousness that every muscle ached.

  She missed Lydia so much, it was a palpable pain.

  All it had taken to start the torrent of tears was the thought, I missed my jog. And the deluge had started. Every night, she and Lydia would jog through their neighborhood and up into the hills before coming home to a nice bath, a simple dinner, and maybe a few hours of TV. Afterwards, they would curl up together and fall asleep to the soothing sound of each other’s breathing.

  It had been bliss.

  But now …

  All she could hear was the damn moaning outside. Most likely, more of those things were showing up outside the building.

  The water was growing colder.

  Katie turned off the flow and struggled to her feet. She’d gotten stiff, squatting there at the bottom of the tub, and she stumbled getting out. Landing hard on the mat, she started to cry all over again. This time, her grief was mingled with rage. She kicked the door to the cabinet under the sink to vent her feelings. Wiping her tears away angrily with her cold fingers, she snorted and sniffled, her nose running wildly.

  Why … why … why … goddamnit … why? …

  A hand on her damp hair made her raise her head. Jenni’s face swam before her, pale and concerned. Jack sat at her side, yawning and looking bleary eyed.

  “I just can’t,” Katie sobbed.

  Jenni stroked her face. “Can’t what?”

  “Let her be dead in my heart,” she answered.

  Katie refused to remember Lydia shrieking and charging at her, her chest torn open and her heart gone. Instead, she made herself see Lydia as she had been just thirty minutes before: smiling, happy, kissing her good-bye, a cup of coffee clutched in one hand.

  Jenni wrapped her arms around Katie and held her tenderly. Her black hair was soft and soothing on Katie’s cold skin, and Katie leaned into her. They sat that way for a long time, until Katie’s sobs finally subsided.

  Awkwardness set in and Jenni sat back, her brow furrowed, looking anxious and confused. Katie rubbed her face, feeling flushed and tired. Nothing in this new world felt right.

  Jenni tried to kiss her, very awkwardly and tentatively. Katie caught hold of her immediately and held her back. “Don’t.”

  “I just want to make you feel—,” Jenni mumbled, her face reddening.

  “Don’t. I’m not your husband. I don’t need sex to comfort me.” Katie held Jenni firmly. She realized in that instant that part of her had been waiting for this. Subconsciously, she had recognized that Jenni was looking for security in this new world. And that would mean fitting Katie into a role Jenni understood. Jenni was used to a strong male figure, one she could calm with sex, follow obediently, and maybe fear a little.

  Jenni lowered her eyes, and tears fell. “I don’t know … I just wanted…”

  Katie smiled and forced Jenni to look her in the eyes. “It�
�s okay. I understand. But this is not who you are. Right?”

  Jenni nodded, embarrassed. “I thought I could learn—”

  “This is not who we are,” Katie said firmly, stroking Jenni’s hair.

  Jenni looked at her, eyes wide, trying to understand. “I just want to be useful. For you to need me.”

  “But I do, Jenni. We are bonded by all that happened today. For better or for worse, we have a bond. You and me.” Katie took Jenni’s hands firmly in her own and held them tightly. “My dad told me a lot about his war buddies. They loved each other and they shared a bond no one really understood, because they were not part of it. I think I understand that now.”

  Jenni sat down cross-legged, her hair falling over one shoulder. Jack immediately set his head on Jenni’s knee. “I don’t know how to … I don’t have any female friends or know any … lesbians. …” Jenni rubbed her nose with the palm of her hand. “I don’t know how to act.”

  Katie smiled and kissed one of Jenni’s hands. “That’s okay. Hell, for both of us to be utterly insane right now is okay. But I just need you as my friend. I need you to be whoever you are, Jenni. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Jenni seemed relieved even as her shoulders slumped.

  Katie forced herself to stand and pulled on the T-shirt and shorts Jenni had left in the bathroom for her. Her business clothes were wadded up in the trash bin along with her high heels. She knew she would never wear them again, and in a way, that was a relief.

  “I wish it would stop,” Jenni whispered.

  Katie raised her head, realizing she had been mentally blocking out the sound of the moans. “Yeah, me, too.”

  “Well,” Jenni said with a wry smile, “at least we live in Texas, where people actually own guns and hunt.”

  “Well,” Katie echoed with a grin of her own, “at least we’re in a hunting shop and not a mall.”

  Jenni giggled as she stood, stretching her long legs. “Yeah. Or a farmhouse. Do you know how to fly a helicopter?”

  Katie laughed. “You are a die-hard fan of Romero!”