900 Miles: A Zombie Novel by Davis S. Johnathan

Author:Davis, S. Johnathan [Davis, S. Johnathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severed Press
Published: 2013-01-02T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

White Sulfur Springs, Home of The Greenbrier Hotel.

We spent another thirty minutes or so refining my firearm skills. I’m not going to say that I am a gun slinger now, however, I hit my fair share of bottles that day, and the practice would come in handy sooner than I even expected.

Despite the terrors of the past week, I woke up the following morning with a strange feeling. I was beginning to realize that I was better at fighting the undead than I ever was at fighting the horrors of corporate America.

The way I figured, at least I knew what the Zs wanted. They were clear about their intentions. The corporate world that I left behind, along with the rest of civilization, was riddled with bullshit, hidden agendas, and red tape.

I was losing weight, feeling better than I had in a while, and most importantly, I was still alive. The feeling was short-lived, however. Jenn and my child popped into my mind. We needed to keep moving. We needed to get to Avalon.

Even I believed, or at least was really hoping that Avalon was real at this point. I had allowed what started as a reluctant agreement to let Michael come along, to transform into an eager anticipation that we’d be okay at the end. Even then, I realized it was because I didn’t know where else we’d head after I found Jenn. I didn’t have any sort of backup plan, and I didn’t see anything jumping out in front of us, except for bloodthirsty zombies. The only thing I could focus on was getting to Avalon, and I was betting big that if it were in fact real, they would let us in with open arms. It was a hell of a wager.

We were just twenty miles or so from Michael’s coordinates. According to the map, they were right smack dab in the middle of a small town named, White Sulfur Springs.

The name sounded familiar to me. I kept feeling like I heard about it on the History or Discovery channel. The thought was eating away at me during the drive. It was something I’d heard of. I simply couldn’t quite place it, and I found myself agitated at my inability to think straight. Lack of sleep and stress was really starting to pay its toll.

The twenty mile trek was relatively uneventful. We saw some Zs, but they were spread out, and of no real consequence to us. I don’t think it would have mattered any way. The three of us were quiet, caught up in our thoughts about our journey thus far, and what Avalon may have, or would bring us.

As we pulled into the town, we passed a welcome sign that read, “White Sulfur Springs Founded in 1900,” in green letters. Once again, AVALON was spray painted on the sign in red paint.

We were there.

“Looks like something may actually be out here,” Kyle reluctantly said, glancing back toward Michael after seeing the sign. He shifted a

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