Vagabond: A Post-apocalypse Zombie Thriller (Apocalypsis Immortuos Book 4) by Marco de Hoogh

Author:Marco de Hoogh [de Hoogh, Marco]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror Fiction, Zombie Apocalypse, post-apocalyptic survival, undead story, walking dead
Publisher: Marco de Hoogh
Published: 2022-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ash the Adventurer

November 4

Ash groaned.

He slowly became aware of his surroundings. Sometime during the night, he had kicked off his blankets. He clutched his sheet tightly to conserve heat. Ash cracked his eyes open. It was light out.

Fuck. He scanned the room with his single eye. Everything looked as it should look.

Not again... He opened his other eye and immediately knew it to be true.

Yep. I did it again.

Ash was a champion at feeling regret. He felt a strong dose of it every “morning after.” This was no different. He could recall how much he had to drink last night—six beers—which was a good sign. A sign that he hadn’t totally lost control.

Sitting up in his bed, he assessed how he was doing. Every clue pointed towards a hangover. A minor hangover, if that was any consolation. Ash knew the cure for that. He proceeded to execute his time-tested cure of water, shower, and greasy breakfast with the promise that he would try to control his urges better in the future.

Ash was already feeling better as he sipped his morning coffee. He thought about what he wanted to accomplish that day as he savored the bitter brew. He considered clearing some apartments but disregarded that idea almost immediately.

If there was one thing he’d learned, it was that zombies were attracted to sound. And guns made a hell of a lot of noise. No, he didn’t want to make that kind of noise in his home base and announce his presence to all undead in the neighborhood.

He also had no stomach for fighting zombies strictly with melee weapons, so clearing zombies from the building was out of the question. Besides, they were all stuck behind closed and locked doors. He could let them rot if he wanted to.

Ash did want to use his guns. Specifically, the rifle. He really wanted to get some shooting practice with it. Ash knew that he would have to be some distance away from the building if he was going to shoot a rifle.

Several blocks, at least.

Then:

Maybe it will draw the zombies away from my place...

That was a thought he could get enthusiastic about. He had not seen many undead—but he knew they were out there—and naturally would prefer them as far away from here as possible.

A couple of days ago, the prospect would have scared him. He probably would have found a reason not to go. But today was different. Ash felt confident. Excited, even. His arsenal of weapons gave him a feeling of invincibility. Besides, he’d been in several scraps now and had always come out on top. Zombies were slow, awkward, and dumb as a bag of rocks. Ash considered himself the opposite of those things.

Well, at least in comparison.

His first task was to get a handle on the rifle. He walked over to his kitchen table and picked up the weapon. It was a lot lighter than it looked. The stock seemed to be made from plastic, while the rest was made from what Ash guessed was light-weight steel.

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