Chloe Zombie Apocalypse series (Book 1): Chloe Read Free Page A

walking.
    He’d been at the other side of the country. Lorry driving for Warburtons. The people who made bread and biscuits.
    She hoped he hadn’t made the mouldy biscuits she’d been forced into eating earlier, because the sour taste of it clung to her lips.
    She swallowed back a sickly taste. At least she’d eaten. At least she’d had something to drink. Sunny D. Sweet, thick, but it was something. And at least she was inside the bark of this tree. At least she was out of sight of the rest of the world.
    At least she hoped she was.
    Sitting here with her torchlight.
    The only light in the forest that wasn’t the moonlight, which the clouds suffocated.
    She hoped nobody else could see her.
    She clenched her teeth together to stop them rattling. She was cold. So cold. Didn’t help that she felt sick. She tried sipping on a bit of water but she didn’t want to throw it up. She’d done that a while back. It’d been such a waste. She didn’t want to waste anything else.
    Because wasting supplies meant needing more supplies.
    And needing more supplies meant taking more supplies.
    From other people.
    She listened to the wind brush through the trees. Saw the dark fingers of the branches sway in the breeze like teasing claws. She thought back to earlier that day. To the people she’d trapped. Perhaps if she’d just asked them for help, things would’ve been different. Maybe they’d have let her into their camp. Given her some of their water. Shared food with her. Looked after her.
    But she thought back to all her other experiences on the road.
    Not a single one of them matched up with that.
    She felt the memories of the recent past invade her consciousness. Felt her heartbeat pick up. No. She couldn’t allow herself to remember. Because remembering made her weak. Remembering made her a little girl again, and she couldn’t be a little girl if she wanted to live.
    The rope.
    The bikers.
    Her mum.
    No!
    She looked back at Harry Potter . The book shook in her hand. She could barely focus on the words, but she just had to. Anything but remembering the past. Anything but remembering the things she’d seen.
    The things she’d done.
    She read another paragraph. But the howling distracted her once again. It seemed to be getting closer. Probably wolves. Or just dogs. Pet dogs that didn’t have anyone to look after them, not anymore. Pet dogs that went from being loving animals to wild creatures.
    Creatures Chloë sometimes had to deal with.
    To survive.
    To keep herself alive.
    She found herself drifting again. Thinking about her dad. He’d always told her and her sister, Elizabeth, that they could get a dog some day. Mum was never sure because she got allergies, but sometimes Mum said stuff just so the pair of them didn’t get their hopes up, then went and did the opposite for a surprise. That was one of the many things Chloë loved about her mum.
    She reached into her pocket like she always did when she was afraid. Then she remembered her mum’s necklace wasn’t there. It hadn’t been for a long time.
    It wasn’t the exact same locket her mum had worn when she’d died seven months ago anyway—the one Chloë had given to her for an early Christmas present. Stole it from a shop in the early days of the dead when it was just her and her mum and another group. It was one a man called Riley had given her. Riley was the leader of the last group she’d been with. He was a good man. He’d given it to Chloë to remember her mum by.
    But Chloë knew the truth of the necklace.
    She pulled her hand out of her pocket and cleared her throat. She tried not to remember the past. Tried not to remember what she’d done.
    It was gone. There was nothing she could do to change history. Not anymore. Not ever.
    She heard movement outside. Footsteps. Instinctively, she flicked the torchlight off. Huddled back as far as she could against the damp bark. Held her breath. Sat there in total darkness, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of