Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel Read Free

dashed toward the convenience store, while the woman ran around the car toward the pump.
    With the moon still working its way to its peak, the night sky filled with the faint specks of distant glistening stars. Washed out by the looming streetlights on every corner, the night didn’t seem as dark. The coffee shop’s neon beer signs hung in the window, giving the sidewalk and beyond a red and green hue. 
    At the venue across the street, the band’s tour van sat untouched. From one corner of the venue building, several unarmed people shuffled into view. In almost a drunken stumble, they staggered out of the shadows. First, it was a few, but then more than a dozen gathered.
    It didn’t take long, but Chris and the others watched from the coffee shop as the odd looking group made their way past the venue and out into the street, heading toward the gas station and the blue Sedan.
    “What the hell is wrong with them?” the cashier asked, leaning over Chris’ shoulder by the front window.
    Just as she said that, two motorcycles thundered by, passing right through the staggering crowd in the street. Several of the shambling people fell off balance. One of the riders fell victim to the mob, torn from his bike by outstretched hands. The motorcycle rolled unmanned out of view. The crashing screech of the Harley scraping across the pavement rattled the coffee shop windows. Following the crash a woman screamed. More attackers ambled in with the mob, following the bikers.      
    The fallen biker lay on his back, his tattooed arms flaying in every direction, as the crowd covered him. The mass wasn’t thick enough to drown his screams as his obese body was torn apart. They were eating him alive!
    “I don’t know, but I’m not about to go out there and find out!”
    A loud high-pitched squeal shrieked from the flat screen TV. The cashier jumped, startling Chris and his two band mates.
    “Oh shit, that scared the crap out of me.” Steve held his hand over his heart.
    Outside, several of the lingering attackers turned toward the storefront and started walking over. The high-pitched squeal from the television was drawing their attention.   
    On the television, an emergency broadcast signal replaced the news, displaying text warnings, and giving shelter locations. Just as quick, the high-pitched signal disappeared. The picture changed back to live footage at the news station. The live broadcast was shaky and kept blurring in and out of focus. Two men sat behind a desk arguing back and forth. The audio was spotty, peaking occasionally.
    “The dead have risen! That is a fact. You’re over thinking this situation,” the reporter on the left said.
    “I refuse to hear this nonsense,” the other man argued. “It can’t be anything more than a terrorist attack. Hell, I would even go so far as to believe an underground faction of gangs is behind this. Zombies? You have got to be kidding me!”
    “So you presume to tell me that I should believe that an underground gang of vandals has concocted this elaborate nationwide catastrophe! Don’t be obtuse," the anchor said. He lifted a few papers from the desk and tossed them into the air. “They are dead, and that is a fact!”
    “Fact? Ha! Don’t make me laugh. What facts do you have to support that idiocy?”
    “Why not step out in the street for a change and find out in person! The truth is that the recently departed are rising up and are in a murderous rage. Those people who are killed in the attack, rise up and become killers too! It’s out in our cities and will soon be in our homes.”
    “Nonsense!” The other reporter yelled.
    “Do you guys believe this horse piss?” Mark asked, as he ran his fingers through his hair.
    Steve glared at him.
    Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. “I wonder if all that’s going on has any connection to our phones not working?” He looked down. Sure enough, his cell still had full bars. Calling up the home phone