Run from the Dead: Book 5: A Zombie Apocalypse, page 1
RUN FROM THE DEAD
Joanne Nundy
Copyright © 2022 by Joanne Nundy
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Contents
1. Prologue
2. Chapter 1
3. Chapter 2
4. Chapter 3
5. Chapter 4
6. Chapter 5
7. Chapter 6
8. Chapter 7
9. Chapter 8
10. Chapter 9
11. Chapter 10
12. Chapter 11
13. Chapter 12
14. Chapter 13
15. Chapter 14
16. Chapter 15
17. Chapter 16
18. Chapter 17
19. Chapter 18
20. Chapter 19
21. Chapter 20
22. Chapter 21
23. Chapter 22
24. Chapter 23
25. Chapter 24
26. Chapter 25
27. Chapter 26
28. Chapter 27
29. Chapter 28
30. Chapter 29
31. Chapter 30
32. Chapter 31
33. Chapter 32
34. Chapter 33
35. Chapter 34
36. Chapter 35
37. Chapter 36
38. Chapter 37
39. Chapter 38
40. Chapter 39
41. Chapter 40
42. Chapter 41
43. Chapter 42
44. Chapter 43
45. Chapter 44
46. Chapter 45
47. Chapter 46
48. Chapter 47
49. Chapter 48
50. Chapter 49
51. Chapter 50
52. Chapter 51
53. Chapter 52
54. Chapter 53
55. Chapter 54
56. Chapter 55
57. Epilogue
Also By
Also By
. Chapter
Prologue
Automatic gunfire pummelled the air around them, ricocheting off buildings and getting closer and closer. But the trucks would draw most away, so it wasn’t a worry for Collins. The army had been ordered to retreat. From Hull, and from Manchester. The two cities with the largest numbers of the dead running around killing anyone they could get their teeth into.
Collins and the many he accompanied had taken up position at Old Trafford—the cricket ground and the football stadium. They were to use the football stadium as their main set up and the cricket ground to take in rescuees and evaluate them for infection.
People were still turning up in their droves and expecting to be saved. But often the dead were already amongst them, just waiting to turn fully into one of them. The crowds would erupt in panic, and many more would die.
They couldn’t save Manchester, and he imagined it was the same for Hull. Too many dead and not enough bullets to eradicate them. The government ordered the armed forces to save the Capital which was just as overrun. The country was fucked.
This was the time to put his plan in place.
“How many will stay?” Collins asked of the man at his side.
“I reckon we’ve got about a hundred and fifty. They know shits going down fast and would rather be a part of something that wasn’t a suicide mission.”
“No one with families then, I guess.”
“No.”
“Any female soldiers?”
He huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, actually. We’ve got about a dozen.”
“Well, well, well. I am surprised.”
“Me too, sir.”
“Let’s get our remaining troops rallied around, and I’ll address them all. It’s only fair they get to hear what we’re planning.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And then we will quickly find out who we can rely on and who we cannot. Be ready to shoot any deserters, though. We have to make the others know we require loyalty.”
His second in command nodded with a grin and scurried away. He was in the same mindset as Collins, and anyone who was to stay there with them would have to be as well. They couldn’t have bleeding hearts. This is an apocalypse for goodness’ sake, where the weak will fall and the strong will survive.
But the best part is where the strong make the weak their slaves.
Collins smiled as the gunfire retreated along with the morons who were leaving to die defending an already fallen capital. Well, we can make this the new capital. One where there’s no place for idiots.
Chapter 1
Manchester
Tess moved through the dark streets without a sound. Her converse high-tops stepped between shards of broken glass and debris from battles of days gone by—those early fights for survival that left many alone or infected and, in both cases, forever changed.
She glanced over her shoulder, peeking out from behind the dark hood of her hoody to view the street behind. She hadn’t found them yet, but she would.
Tess moved down the road she once travelled daily, heading for college or popping to the nearby shopping centre, all still there but no longer holding the safety or joy they once had. Everything changed that day. Even the smell of the city was different. Garbage and rotting corpses were a constant reminder of their decaying world.
Seven weeks earlier…
Tess turned the corner of her street, heading to the newsagents for a packet of paracetamol for her nan. She bumped straight into a chavvy seventeen-year-old carrying a bag of shopping. His tilted cap flew off when it jabbed Tess in the shoulder, landing on the pavement. She recognised the youth as Daz, her next-door neighbour in the tower block. He had already started sweating under his cap as the morning warmed up.
Tess clutched her chest. “Omg, you just shit me up.”
“You? I actually have shit my pants, man. Geez.” Daz scooped his hat off the pavement.
They both began laughing—full-on belly laughs. Tess needed a good laugh; life had been an enormous pile of crap lately. The boy had lifted her spirits, even if it was accidental. Tess knew he liked her. He was two years younger, and although it wouldn’t seem like a lot a few years from now, he was still just a kid. A funny one, though.
“You going to the shop?” Daz asked.
“Yeah, just a couple of things for my nan. Better get going. And no more attacking vulnerable women, you.” Tess pointed at him.
“You ain’t vulnerable.” Daz laughed, walking away and pulling up his baggy jeans.
“Cheeky! See ya.”
She turned her head, hearing the jangle of her oversized earrings, and carried on towards the shop. Dressing well was vital to her, as was a great sense of style. She wanted to prove to the world that she was worth something and had more about her than the average girl around these parts—all traits which she knew made many of her male friends fancy her. That, and the fact that she’d dated none of them.
She reached the newsagents’ door and stepped back, holding it open to allow a mum with a pushchair out. The mum blew a strand of hair from her face as she fought with the pram. Tess loved her neighbourhood and the people in it and helped wherever she could. It was hard for most growing up in poorer neighbourhoods, and she not only wanted to make her own life better but that of the people who lived here too. In her mind, it always started with community: a better community meant a better quality of life.
Before the mum could get through the door, scraping metal and smashing glass shattered the quiet Saturday morning. Tess spun to see a bus skidding to a stop; it had swerved and landed on its side twenty metres down the road. Another car sat smashed-up next to it, facing the wrong way.
All worldly noises stopped; the birds had stopped singing, nobody spoke, and even the ambient rush of traffic had ceased.
Then the screaming started.
Wide-eyed and speechless, Tess shoved the door back at the lady with the pushchair. She managed two unsteady steps towards the obliterated bus, meanwhile, a man crouched to look inside the wreckage as a person from inside crawled out—
and pounced on top of him!
The man landed on his back with a thud. Tess frowned hearing the growls of the crash victim—or was he an attacker? Then the person, or monster, or whatever it was, began to tear chunks of flesh from the Good Samaritan.
Pained cries reached Tess, but her feet had rooted to the ground. Four more people exited the crashed double-decker and chased a guy on a bicycle. They moved like people, but they couldn’t be people. Again, more things came out through the broken windows, crunching over the glass as they looked in Tess’s direction. She was the next nearest human on this side of the wreckage.
Three ungodly creatures stood upright and darted towards Tess, shrieking at their intended prey. They locked their eyes onto their target, and it seemed nothing could deter them. Tess spun, screaming and waving her arms at the woman still in the shop’s doorway. She needed the woman to move faster, so she grabbed the rubber step at the base of the pushchair, lifting and pushing it backwards at the same time. The woman was forced back with it into the shop. She dropped her mou
The mum took the weight of the pushchair from Tess and pulled it away from the door. Tess twisted around, taking in the view of the creatures sprinting towards them. They bared their teeth with blood-soaked mouths as they stormed the tarmac in desperate need of sustenance.
Tess’s hand flew at the heavy-duty wooden door, throwing it back into its frame with a thud. Never had she felt grateful for their crime-riddled housing estate as she did then. The door was made to withstand heavy assaults. Intense pounding began as Tess slammed the three huge metal bolts into place, hoping they might be safe inside this tiny corner shop until help arrived.
She looked around the small space, wondering exactly how secure it was. She licked her lips, feeling dryness and the taste of her morning coffee coating her tongue. The monsters thudded and screamed at them, making everyone inside edge closer to the far wall. Tess raced behind the shop counter, where the stunned shopkeeper gawped at her. She bent down and searched the under-counter area. “Just what I was looking for,” she said, pulling out a heavy metal pole.
She surveyed the room, her brows set in determination. There was a little girl in the pushchair, with two more children to the shop’s rear. Her hands gripped the rod, envisioning battering one of those things with it. But she couldn’t do it alone; there were too many monsters outside. Scanning the shop again, she counted the able-bodied: a large middle-aged man near the back—assumably the father of the two children—an older teenager, the little girl’s mum, and the shopkeeper.
“Do you have anything else we can use to defend ourselves?” Tess asked loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear. “If those things get in here, it’ll be our only chance.”
Tess had survived that day to return to her nan, but most others weren’t so lucky. It all happened too fast for many to survive day one. And if they did, the following days took them.
The night air suffocated her skin under the too warm attire, leaving her moist and uncomfortable. Her dark outfit was safer, though. The less they could see you, the better.
Clanking down the next street made her turn and hurry in that direction. Most people would run away. That’s what she should do if she valued her life. But today, running wasn’t an option. She wanted to find them.
She jumped over a downed telegraph pole and edged towards the corner. There, she peered around the bricks and scanned the street ahead. There they were… the group of dead she had seen chasing two children.
Tess had been leaning over the side of the tower block ten minutes earlier, watching the quiet streets below. Nothing had happened that night until the small shapes dashed in front of the tower block, several larger shapes charging after them.
She had run the twenty floors all the way to the bottom, grabbed her bat from the foyer, and headed out through the back. The person on guard duty sat up straighter, but didn’t question her; they were used to Tess’s heroics by now.
Four growling beasts clawed at a car much farther down the street. Their hands scraping at the glass and metal roof, obsessed with whatever was inside. It’s gotta be them. The kids must be inside that car.
Tess turned the corner and marched along the centre of the road, eyes darting either side of her, on the prowl for any more that might join the party. She shifted her fingers on the wooden bat, letting it slide through them until she gripped it in the right place, ready to swing.
She assessed the scene in front of her. A car with four dead around it and two children inside. One of the monsters looked into the driver’s side, and the other three stood on the pavement next to where it was parked. They hadn’t started striking the glass yet and still hadn’t drawn any more dead to their commotion. It had only just begun.
There were different methods Tess could employ in this situation, but she often favoured the surprise attack whilst they concentrated on their prey. A few more strides and she would be there, so she took in the street one more time. Her eyes narrowed on the dark corners of gardens, and windows yet to be broken, but nothing attacked yet.
Tess squeezed her hand tighter around the baseball bat and added her left to the grip, covering her right. She pulled the bat over her shoulder, then slammed it across the skull of the lone beast on the road.
No grunt or scream of exertion came from Tess. She had trained herself a while ago not to make a sound as her rage poured through the bat in her hands. It struck the dead man on the temple, and he slumped to the dry tarmac. Tess cringed at how the thump bounced off the walls, but there was nothing she could do about that.
She stepped to move around the front end of the car when two of the dead headed around the rear. The other came within reach, so Tess cracked her bat across the once teenager’s head as well. The girl pinged off the car bonnet and bounced back upright, giving Tess another opportunity to hit her again, cracking her skull the second time.
Tess’s jaw clenched tighter as she turned away from the girl. Next one. Her body twisted in time to see the middle-aged woman open her mouth to sink her teeth into Tess’s shoulder. Her scraggly hair hung down over most of her face, and there was far too much skin missing from the woman’s chest.
Tess lifted her bat and shoved at the woman’s chest, pushing her off balance. The putrid smell hit her hard before she spun and ran around the other side of the car again, winning her some much needed seconds to swing the bat.
Somehow the skinny old guy behind Boobless Brenda reached her first. Tess lifted her bat up over her shoulder and whacked him with precision in the temple. He crumpled to the road surface, tripping up Brenda behind him.
She sprawled on the ground, giving Tess the chance to hit her easily. Tess lifted the bat over her head whilst she straddled the chestless woman and brought it down with everything she had.
Tess smashed the back of Brenda’s head over and over until squelching sounds accompanied the pounding. She didn’t know how many times she struck her. It just felt far too good to stop. Gore flung from the end of her bat every time she drew it back, splattering the ground behind her.
Finally, Tess saw the mess between her feet and didn’t lift the bat again. She stared at the mangled skull and brains whilst she caught her breath. Dark, sticky liquid oozed off the end of her bat and dripped back onto the thing that was once a woman.
She calmed her racing mind and sucked in some more rancid air when the car door cracked open, jarring Tess away from the destruction at her feet. Two small faces with eyes as bright as the moon appeared in the small opening.
Tess stepped away from the corpse and towards the car, where she squatted to look at the children’s faces. “Hey. I’m Tess.”
“Hi,” a little boy’s voice said before looking at his companion.
“Hello.” A young girl’s voice came second.
“Are you two out here all alone?”
Two heads nodded from within the darkened car. Then one of them sucked in a breath and pointed over Tess’s shoulder.
Tess straightened her legs and pivoted; eyes peeled for movement. A snarling mess of a man ran at her from between the parked cars on the other side of the street. But Tess was ready for him. She lifted her bat and whacked the man straight across the head, knowing full well it would take more than a single strike. He was far too large for that and no doubt had a thick skull.
As soon as the dead man staggered to the side, she was on him, hitting him a second and third time. He stumbled to the tarmac, dazed and slow to stand, giving Tess the chance to pummel his face.
She landed strike after strike to the centre of his ugly nose, first spreading it across the pale skin of his face, then caving it in. He toppled back onto the ground and twitched as dark goo seeped out of the gaping wound Tess had created.
Tess had seen this a few times before too. Sometimes the thick-skulled dead needed a lot of work to damage the brain. So, she straddled him the same way she had the woman, shifted her grip, and drove the end of the bat straight down into his mashed-up face. Another three times.
She stepped away and wiped her bat on his few items of ripped clothing, then moved back to the children. Something made a noise at the far end of the street, so she stilled and listened. Several seconds ticked by, but nothing happened. She watched, trying to see through the dark, but all was still.
