BOOK ONE
She had her whole life planned.
What she didn't plan for was the zombie apocalypse.
Eighteen-year-old Arryn Lycaster just graduated high school. With aspirations of becoming a veterinarian, she's ready to take the next step forward in lif...
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Her ears rang like bells on Christmas morning. Except this ringing carried a higher pitch to it. Reminiscent of the whirring of a jet plane's engine, or the eerie ringing she often heard when sitting in silence. Only this was more intense. The sound bounced around in her skull like a pinball trapped in a never-ending loop.
The gun nearly flew out of her hands, turning into a slippery stick of butter between her palms. She gasped in surprise at how powerful the weapon was. Looking down, she saw the bullet had missed the undead child and cracked the tile beside him. He seemed unfazed by the gunshot, continuing her pursuit of Trinity.
Regaining her grip on the weapon, she took aim once more and spread her legs apart. She planted her feet, hoping whatever vague knowledge she had of guns would help.
Trinity kicked at the bloodied boy and let out a muffled scream. She landed a hard blow to his face. The crack that followed sent a shiver down Arryn's spine. His jaw now hung lopsided. But he continued to crawl forward, reaching out at Trinity desperately. The look in his eye showed a relentless hunger.
A pang of sorrow tugged at Arryn's heart as she stared at the boy, meeting his eye. A monster stared back at her. A cold blooded killer who would never stop, no matter how much he ate.
What was it her dad had said? "Rabies was one hell of a virus."
Now or never.
He was no longer a kid.
He was no longer a kid.
He was no longer a k--
Crack.
She prepared for the kickback this time, her shoulders absorbing most of it.
More bells sounded.
The bullet hit the boy on the left side of his hairline. It took him a moment to stop crawling. Black blood pooled out of the wound, forming a puddle on the ground. Seconds later, he collapsed in the black pool, motionless.
Arryn lowered the gun with shaky hands. What had she done? Both regret and relief raged a war within her. On one hand, she saved Trinity and ended the kid's suffering. But on the other hand, she had killed a child. Zombie or not, it had been a kid at some point. And if there was a cure out there, she took any chance this boy had at recovery and threw it out the window.
Was it worth it?
She sure hoped so.
A muffled thud ripped her attention away from the motionless child. Looking around the room, she found where it came from. Trinity's father had created a wider gap in the door, pulling himself through. His bottom half caught on the splintered wood. He pulled and pulled until the sound of velcro cut through the air.
Splat.
"Trinity, we need to go now!" Arryn shouted, not realizing how loudly she spoke.
