Solstice: A Novel of the Zombie Apocalypse by Donna Burgess

Author:Donna Burgess [Burgess, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781477458990
Amazon: 1477458999
Goodreads: 13645326
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2012-05-07T04:00:00+00:00

January 2

Chapter 27

London, England

Tana slipped into Stu’s tent with a bottle of wine and a portable DVD player. The flick was Monty Python and the Holy Grail, which pleased Stu immensely. He had been a Python nut since college, and he hoped the mindless hilarity might ease his mind for a while. After two glasses of wine, he began to wonder if the surviving Pythons were reborn as Ragers. Or any other well-known people, for that matter—the president of the United States, the Prince of Wales, professional football players, actors, rock stars. Everyone in the world fell into one of three categories—survivor, Rager, or truly deceased. Fame and money no longer mattered.

They’d lost track of day and night, and Stu suggested they try splitting up the time, just to keep some semblance of normality. None of them had a clue what time it really was. If they lost their sense of reason, they wouldn’t survive. They’d also started making good use of the exercise equipment in the store—weights, a jogging trampoline, and a stationary bike. Plus, there was a driving net and golf clubs. Stu was positive he’d gained a good amount of yardage on his long game.

They’d been able to pick up the Zombie Radio X sporadically. The broadcasts were becoming a bit more comforting, even to Tana. She had even started talking about joining Stu at Sanctuary.

“I’ve let Aidan go,” she’d told him after lovemaking. Then, she dressed quickly and went back to the tent she shared with Davis, leaving Stu both optimistic and scared as hell. What if they made back to the States and things were… awful? Could he cope with the loss of a child as bravely as Tana had?

They’d locked George in the supervisor’s office. The old man had lost so much blood, it was amazing he’d survived. Quickly following being cleaned and bandaged, he’d fallen into a coma-like sleep, but before he drifted off, he told Stu, “Don’t kill me yet, Stu. Wait to see how it happens. You’ll need to know.”

Stu checked on him every few hours, but the outlook was gloomy, at least according to the radio broadcasts. Intimate contact was the only way to spread the infection, and a bite was about as intimate as one could get.

It had been twenty-four hours since George had been attacked. He had woken, his skin sallow, his demeanor poor. He was no longer kind old George. It broke Stu’s heart, but he didn’t have the heart to end things just yet.

But it was inevitable.

In the meantime, Josh had grown despondent. It was a frightening thing to watch a vibrant young man spiral downward. He was spending so much time alone that Stu felt the needed to watch him constantly. Stu had taken Josh’s gun and put it into the locker with the other firearms and ammo. He and Tana were the only ones who held the keys.

Of course, the store was filled with all sorts of other hazards a suicidal person might want to get his or her hands on—rope, insecticide, drain opener, razors.

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