Heartland Junk Part I: The End: A ZOMBIE Apocalypse Serial by Eli Nixon

Author:Eli Nixon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, action, zombies, apocalypse, zombie, action adventure, action suspense, horror action zombie, horror about apocalypse

Chapter 8

JANET HAD a silver Mazda four-door in her garage. Like us, it was gassed to the rim and ready go. For us, a round of Percs had done the trick. I set the alarm on my phone for six hours later, 7:30 PM. If the voices didn't come knocking before then, it was the signal for dinnertime.

For our other dinnertime, we had a duffel stuffed with canned goods, a pile of frozen Lean Cuisines, and a twelve-pack of Coke, plus our personal gear. It was bizarre how quickly we'd adapted. I don't think we really knew what was happening back then, like it hadn't sunk in yet. For Rivet, and to a lesser extent, me, it felt like we were at the beginning of an adventure. Jennie's always been the efficient type, and that hadn't changed, but I couldn't tell what she thought about the whole thing. She took Titan.

At the last minute, we decided not to take the Mazda. It was Jennie's suggestion that we go in the green Ford pickup out front. There was more space to store supplies, she said, and it would probably have an easier time getting past...

She had trailed off, not quite ready to give voice to the thought. Rubble, destruction, bodies, Armageddon. I didn't know what she'd meant to say, but I knew what she meant by it all the same. At that point, we'd only seen one halfy—a half-changed person—and none of the full-fledged zombies. Definitely no stags at that point, a word Rivet coined for staggerers. Those wouldn't come until much later. Stags, rotters, walking agents of stinking putrefaction—the zombies that had already begun to decay and slow down. I think we were riding pretty high on what we thought was going to be a walk in the park. My chest still smarted, but I'd bandaged it up and thought I looked pretty fucking swag in my bloodstained shirt. Weren't we cool, making up witty names for dead people.

We had no idea.

So here's how our gear stacked up, all tidy and packed away in three backpacks, plus one extra duffel:

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