Dead Earth: The Green Dawn by David T. Wilbanks & Mark Justice

Author:David T. Wilbanks & Mark Justice [Wilbanks, David T.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: apocalyptic, end of the world, aliens, conspiracy theories, permuted press, conspiracy, conspiracy theory, zombies, living dead, walking dead, armageddon, apocalypse, george romero
Publisher: Permuted Press
Published: 2010-10-24T04:00:00+00:00

September 3, 2048

When he awoke, Jubal looked over at Fiona, who had scooted to the other side of the bed. All he could see of her was a strand of hair sticking out from beneath the covers. He smiled, patted her bottom through the blanket and got out of bed. He wanted to surprise her with breakfast so he slipped on his robe and tiptoed out of the room.

As he scrambled eggs and brewed coffee in the little kitchen, Jubal wondered what their next steps would be. They could not go north to Carlsbad; that was for sure. Maybe they could go east through Texas or south into Mexico. Maybe the farther away they got from Serenity, the better Fiona would feel. Maybe there was hope somewhere, after all.

He set two plates of hot eggs on the table and poured two cups of coffee. He set one cup next to a plate of eggs and carried the other down the hallway towards the bedroom.

“Breakfast is served, my princess,” he called.

Fiona didn’t move.

“Lazy old cow,” Jubal said jokingly.

He went to her bedside and whipped the blanket off her head. He nudged Fiona’s shoulder with his finger.

He stopped.

Her shoulder felt wrong. And she wasn’t moving.

Jubal dropped the coffee. The hot liquid splashed across his bare feet, but he didn’t feel it. He placed three fingers against Fiona’s blistered neck.

“No...”

He took her shoulders and shook her hard. Her head lolled from side to side and back and forth, but she did not awaken. He did this for some time before he finally made himself stop.

That’s when he noticed the empty vial of his mother’s sleeping pills on the nightstand next to a glass of water.

Jubal snatched the glass and sniffed it. Not water. Vodka.

She must have taken them sometime before he woke up.

“Wake, up, Fee, baby!” he shouted into her unresponsive face, knowing deep down that it was no use. “Please?”

Tears flooded his eyes; he could barely see. They spattered against his dead lover’s face.

Jubal took the pill vial and threw it across the room, where it ricocheted off the wall. Beneath the vial had been a small square of the scratch paper his mother kept next to the phone in the kitchen. There was writing on it.

Jubal read through tears:

Baby,

I didn’t want to burden you with watching me slowly die and turn into one of those things. I wanted us to end on a happy moment that we both could treasure forever, no matter where we were.

I dreamed again about the dead army last night and their leader in red. Their leader is not one of them. He is not dead. And he’s not from here. He’s from a darker world. I’m not sure how I know this, but I do. It’s as real and true as my feelings for you.

I hope this helps in some way, but I can’t imagine how. I wish that you would read this and flee. Go far from here.

I’m sorry it had to be like this, my sweet, sweet Jubal.

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