Z.E.D.S. Series (Book 2): Z.E.D.S. Wayward Son by Botts Bradley

Author:Botts, Bradley [Botts, Bradley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Publisher: Hidden Hollow Publishing
Published: 2020-05-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Traveling in the night calls for cautious footsteps. Your surroundings are cloaked in shadow. Any timid of light that journeys from the moon through the trees isn’t constant but can be graceful. Groups of the undead scour the plains when the temperature is cooler. The way they roam aimlessly for food would seem to not be impacted by any type of climate change. In some cases, a touch of humanity still exists inside of the drifters to an extent of survival and hunt when it’s more comfortable. Deadly creatures hunt at night.

In random passing hours I hear the voice of Kiere screaming my name. “Help me dad.” I search for her, but only to find that darkness surrounds me. A fade into the deepest corner presents Aurora crying out for our daughter. Cursing me for failing. Disappearing into a dark hole that I had created.

“Atlas,” another voice called to me. “Hang in there. I’m not going to let you die.”

In and out of an endless loop, my limbs were numb and the images of my family becoming grotesque as if murdered in front of me. The sharp tingle that surfaced from the tips of my toes to the pressure in my head relentlessly sent me back to a nightmare. Chase’s eyes of crimson shade and full of rage placing my family on trial to establish power. Logan laying in the road surrounded by pieces of shattered car parts. Zora disappearing in a pit of fire.

“Don’t believe what you see. Your fever is causing hallucinations. Your mind is breaking, but you have to keep fighting,” the voice that seemed so familiar but as a stranger.

Verdant bushes freckled in the wind as a passing breeze softened the heat. The cracked pavement posed a beaten path towards my brothers piled together with blood-soaked clothing as my dad stood above them with a stare lost amongst the sky.

A slight pressure against my wrist and a clutch stronger than a vise subsided the tingle in my right arm. The swooshing of liquid exiting a mouth followed by pressure.

“Is it done yet,” the female voice ventured through.

“Two more minutes,” another voice came across my ears and echoed amongst the red sky.

My father stood motionless reaching for me. As I tried to run, they began pushing further away.

“Atlas, It’s Farrah. Stay with my voice. Stay with me.”

I recognized that voice, but I didn’t focus on it. As they pushed further away, my legs became slower and the ground began to consume me. I could not reach them. The pull from the dirt began to climb my body and enter my mouth.

“Garett, his heart rate is dropping. Where’s the antivenom,” Farrah’s voice echoed.

“It’s ready,” Garett’s voice echoed as well.

The dirt began to fill my lungs. I reached for something to grab, but like quicksand I struggled to escape. As the dirt encased me and the last breeze of air caressed my fingertips, something wrapped around my wrist.

“Not yet,” a voice appeared, and the sun blinded my eyes.

Old barn wood surrounded the ceiling.

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