Saturday, July 14, 2018

ZOMBIE BOOK 2: CHAPTER 5

The new chapter 5  of book 2. (a work in progress) Remember, these are not finalized chapters. Shit may change...

If you haven't read chapter 1 PRESS HERE




THE
ZOMBIE
BOOK
2
The Zombie Book Series
By Diana Graves

Copyright © 2018 Diana Graves
All rights reserved.
Kindle Edition


5



Diana brushed off her near-rape and the death of her friends almost instantly. She seemed in high spirits as she hummed a Christmas song while gathering up all the weapons and ammunition from around the dead. I watched her for a moment. She dashed and nearly skipped around the whole scene like a child, throwing what she took into the back seat of the car. I shook my head and turned to gather my bags. “You want to take the truck?” she asked me with my back to her. I turned to face her. She was standing by the car. “Uh, yes, thank you.” “Thank you! That could have ended very badly,” she said. I put my hands out, gesturing to the bodies on the ground. “I think it did.” She looked down with a pout on her lips and a furrowed brow, like she was trying to think too hard. Then her big brown eyes shot up at me in realization. “Oh you, mean because those men died! Yup, happens all the time. The men always die.” She shook her head in disappointment. “They’re like the red shirts on Star Trek, well, not the Next Generation one, but the original, you know?” She shrugged her shoulders. “Too eager I guess.” “What?” “The men. They’re too eager to fight each other. Those men,” she pointed to the truck. “These men,” she pointed to those bodies near the car. “What was going on here?” I had to ask. She bit her lip and went cross-eyed for a moment. “Where to start? Um, in the beginning,” she said with a deep manly voice. “Nah, that will take too long,” she said in her normal voice. “These shit heads call themselves, ‘The Pride.’ They are fucking ass holes. They cage and rape women and they steal supplies and food from other survivors. They kill all the men and take all the women,” she said while pointing to the dead bodies by the truck. “These guys,” she said pointing her thumb back toward the car, “Are okay. They call themselves, N.W.O for new world order. They have a lot of high and mighty principles and rules. Very democratic, very hoity-toity.” “You’re not part of the N.W.O.” “God no! I picked these guys up off the side of the road on my way back to the base after a supply run. Then these ass hats started chasing us down for my supplies and here we are. That’s what I get for picking up strangers…” She looked at the truck and pointed to the broken solar panels. “Looks like the truck might be out of commission. You want a ride?” I gave her a cocked eyebrow. That would make getting to the other side of the peninsula way faster. “Yeah. Just let me grab my gear.” “Cool. I’ll pull the car around.” I stared after her for a moment while she jumped in the car and tried to maneuver around the bodies to turn the car around. She failed once or twice, running over an arm and a head, which broke open like a watermelon. Once she had the car facing the opposite way, she looked at me with a toothy grin and gave me a thumbs up. Okay. Five minutes later we were racing down deserted country streets heading east. “So, you’re not from around here,” Diana said. “I know everyone here and you, I’ve never seen before.” “Yup, I’m new.” “You took a boat to get here, huh? I mean, you had to have because the entire south of the peninsula is overrun with pirates. They don’t have a name for themselves or any real leadership. They’re just this huge group of men and women who are fucking crazy. Evil like The Pride and loony like the Toons.” I had to smile at the way she talked. “No one would survive a stroll through their territory.” “I guess I don’t look like one of them either,” I said. “Oh, hell no, you do not. First of all, you smell them before you see them. They smell like shit and piss and b.o. And they look just like their smell. They fuck anything and everything. I think they escaped from Western State Psychiatric Hospital. They just, their nuts and they look nuts. I don’t think they could pass for normal.” “You think I look normal?” I asked without thinking. Diana looked at me and then the road a few times and then she frowned. “Now that you mention it, you do look off. Bloodshot eyes and pale skin, like really pale. Are you sick?” The look of concern on her face was almost full panic. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just been in an underground bunker for...a while.” Quick thinking and not technically a lie. “Oh, you’ve been in a bomb shelter all these years!? That explains everything. Well, there are zombies all around us. That sucks, but what’s more dangerous are the people who didn’t die or become undead. People are the worst!” “You live alone then?” “No way. My people are the best people. We call ourselves N.E.O, or just Neo.” “Which stands for?” I asked after a long moment of silence. “Never Eat Octopuses…No, kidding, it’s New Elite Order. N.W.O used to be part of us, but we had some disagreements about the power dynamic. They wanted a democratic process, but we agreed that people are too easily scared into stupidity and the most qualified person may not always be the most popular.” “So you have a dictatorship?” “No, a republic. Those with the most level heads and experience have a seat at the table. Those people decide who leads in what areas and everyone has a job based on their skills.” “What’s yours?” I asked. “I’m charged with documenting events, like a history person type thing. I write about everything that happens. I document everything, you know, for prosperity.” “And you were out here picking up hitchhikers alone because...why?” Diana’s face went serious all of the sudden and I didn’t like it. She had the type of face that needed a smile or it just didn’t look right. “Our system isn’t perfect. No ones is. Weaker people just don’t always get a fair shake...We have a diabetic person. He’s a great man, so funny. You’d love him if you ever met him,” she smiled at the thought of him. “But, he needs meds and meds are in short supply these days. No one would approve a med run. Everyone is convinced there are no more meds. We’ve cleaned out all the drug stores, clinics, nursing homes, home homes. But then it hit me, Feline Diabetes! Vets would have insulin, so I made my case for a run but I was denied.” “So you went anyway,” I guess. “Hell yes, I went anyway.” “You’re people going to be mad at you?” “Duh, but they’ll get over it. I am loved,” she smiled widely at the road. “Where am I taking you anyway? What’s the destination?” “As close to Seattle as you can get me.” She looked at me with wide eyes full of shock. “You don’t want to go there.” “Why?” She shook her head. "There’s more than zombies, more than bad people, there are true monsters in Seattle. Thank god they haven’t figured out how to cross the water, and neither should you. You can come home with me. You seem badass enough. You’ll be a good addition to Neo.” “That’s a nice offer, but I need to get to Seattle. I need to at least try.” A moment of silence stretched between us before she spoke again. “Give me one night to catch you up on all the things you’ve missed while you were in your bunker and if you still want to go to Seattle tomorrow, I’ll take you to the Bainbridge waterfront myself.” I rolled my eyes. What could I say but, “yeah, sure.” She perked right up. “Yeah! Sleepover!”




((end of chapter 5))

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

ZOMBIE BOOK 2: CHAPTER 4

The new chapter 4  of book 2. (a work in progress)
If you haven't read chapter 1 PRESS HERE




THE
ZOMBIE
BOOK
2
The Zombie Book Series
By Diana Graves

Copyright © 2018 Diana Graves
All rights reserved.
Kindle Edition


4



AS I pedaled away from the shore two things became painfully obvious to me. One, Gerald would never see me as anything but a monster now and two, I sure as hell wasn’t going to pedal clear around the entire fucking peninsula to reach Seattle. My legs were killing me and I was slowly taking in water, so however small it was, there was definitely a leak somewhere in the boat. Instead, I headed straight across the water toward Frenchman’s Cove. Racing toward the setting sun, soon to be hidden behind the silhouette of tall evergreens. If I was lucky I could find shelter before full dark. About an hour into my journey, I saw a small family of otters in the distance splashing and playing, and the sight of them softened my hardened mind for a moment. The temptation to reminisce about a more innocent time was too great to push away and I soon found myself smiling dumbly at the memory of my late husband and I having a date at the Point Defiance Zoo. We were holding each other tight while we watched the otters play in their large outdoor tank. My smile turned into a deep frown. What happened to all those captive animals at the zoo? Starved to death most likely. It was darker than I would have liked by the time I reached the cove and my legs were spent. I was hoping for some superhuman strength to go along with my zombie infection. You know, a little superhero bull shit would have been nice, like Spider-Man. No such luck. I got one plus, zombies didn’t eat zombies. I also didn’t feel as cold as I should have. It had to have been in the low fifties, but I felt comfortable in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt. “Might as well make camp here and start fresh in the morning,” I said to myself after pulling the pedal boat onto the shore. Eight hours later I watched the sunrise from across the water while drinking a cold cup of instant coffee. I was sitting with my back against a tree and my bare feet on the grass. I had a map laid out to my right and Karen’s zombie book in my lap. I’d read and reread the book throughout the night. I wanted, needed answers but for all she knew about the virus, she didn’t know shit really. She knew about the drug, its chemical structure, but she didn’t know how or why it became a virus or why it affected some people differently. God, I could only imagine how fucking excited and curious she would have been about my condition if she were still alive. Fuck. I set my cup down beside me and grabbed a pen out of my bag. I needed to document myself. What do I call this, what I am now. Zombie 2.0? I wrote that at the top of the page in big bold letters. Underneath I wrote, “The first thinking, none rotting, none cannibalistic zombie”….but aren’t those the characteristics that make a zombie a zombie? Can I even call myself a zombie? I have the disease in me, but it’s not being expressed the same way. I decided to start with the facts. As they say, just the facts, mam. Time for some serious self-evaluation. Erin Poe, entry 57. Day 782 Zombie 2.0: Despite a zombie infection, she has clear thoughts and human emotions. She has all the needs and desires that any none infected human would. Except, she doesn’t feel cold or sleep as much and other zombies ignore her. Her skin is almost translucent. All major veins and arteries are visible and her eyes are bloodshot. I looked inside my bag at the apple Pane had packed for me and even though I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, I wasn’t hungry in the least. So, okay, reduced appetite was another side effect. Of course, these are all symptoms of stress and trauma so only time would tell if anything I was experiencing was permanent. I shoved the zombie book back in my bag and with my pen, I traced the best possible route to the other side of the peninsula, where I hoped to find another boat to take across the water. I spared a thought for taking the pedal boat with me, but no. It was heavy and bulky and it would only slow me down. Frenchman’s Cove led me to a nature reserve and Boyce Creek ran straight through it. I followed the creek until I reached a sharp southward bend. According to the map, that meant I was out of the reserve and needed to leave the creek and keep heading East. Not long after leaving the creek I found a large farmhouse. No one was inside it, just dusty furniture and empty cabinets. It was clearly cleaned out a long time ago. But I searched it all the same. I tried to avoid looking at the pictures on the walls and shelves. These people were probably dead and they probably died badly. When I came to the master bedroom I threw my bags on the king sized bed and went to the dresser. Clean socks and underwear were like gold to me. Precious things. I shoved as many pairs as I could in my bags before heading to the master bathroom and checking the medicine cabinets. I didn’t really expect to find anything useful. If someone cleared out all the nonperishable food they sure as shit cleaned the house out of all it’s first aid supplies, too. When I opened the cabinet a bottle of baby powder fell out and landed on the counter in a giant fluff of baby scented white. My hands and front were covered with it and instinctively I reached for the sink’s faucet. I almost jumped with surprise when water came out. “Fuck!” Well water, I guess...I looked to the shower and smiled. After pedaling across the water and hiking through the nature reserve, I was beyond in need of a shower. Quickly, I tore my clothes off. Standing naked, I washed them in the sink using a bar of soap from my bag. I hung the clothes over the door to the master bathroom, giving zero shits that it would make the floor wet as they drip dry. I climbed into the tub, and using the same bar of soap, I took a freezing cold shower. Again, I could tell that the temperature should have bothered me, but it didn’t. I just didn’t feel cold the way I used to. I was letting the water run down my body when I heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire. I turned the water off and walked swiftly out of the bathroom and across the bedroom to the window. At first, I didn’t see anything but trees and a neighboring house down the road, but I could still hear the gunfire. It didn’t sound far off. I had to get out of there. The last thing I needed was people. People are rarely good these days. More often than not, they are evil fucking bastards because rapists and murderers thrive in lawless brutal times. My clothes weren’t dry yet. I didn’t expect them to be. I was planning on hanging around for a while. Not anymore. I left those jeans and the shirt behind, but I put on the bra as wet as it was and grabbed some cargo pants and a black tank top from my bags. I was dressed and packed and running out the door when a car raced down the road in front of the house. The Fuck? The car screeched to a stop at the end of the road and five big men and a woman with long bright auburn hair jumped out with their guns pointed back down the road. I looked back the way they came and sure as shit, there was another vehicle coming up fast. It was a black truck, two men inside and three in the back of the pickup. As soon as they came in range they started shooting at the men and woman standing their ground. I should have bolted right then while everyone was good and distracted, but it was like watching a train wreck. I couldn’t look away. Right off the bat one of the men in the back of the truck was shot in the head by one of the men standing by the car and using it’s opened doors as a shield. Two of the men by the car were shot down as the truck came to a stop a good distance from the car. I didn’t see who from the truck had made the kill but while I was looking at them I noticed a large solar panel on the top of the truck. They’d converted it to electric! The car was probably an electric as well. Smart. The auburn haired woman took aim and shot the driver of the truck as he exited the driver’s side door with a shotgun in his hand. The passenger of the truck shot at her but missed and she ran for cover across the road. The remaining three men from the truck advanced on the car at a run. One of them was shot dead. Another one, a big guy wearing jeans tucked into cowboy boots, busted the man who shot his friend in the face with the butt of his rifle, then quickly grabbed him and used him as a human shield while he and the other only remaining truck man shot the last two car men. Then the cowboy threw his human shield to the grown and shot him dead, too. “Diana!” the cowboy screamed out. The other truck man, a hunched over tan guy with slicked black hair circled the car in search of Diana, the auburn-haired woman I guessed... “Come out here. Your men are dead! They had to die, but you know our policy on women, Miss Thing.” The hunchback looked back at the cowboy and smiled. “We’ll treat you real nice,” he said loudly and in a voice that matched his appearance, high pitched and weasley. “I’m not going to be one of your fucking kept woman!” I heard Diana yell before she popped out from the side of the road and shot the hunchback in the chest. The cowboy ran up on her before she could turn the gun on him, and he tackled her to the ground. She put up a good fight, but in the end, all she could do against his massive strength was scream angrily at him while he held her down. Was he going to rape her right then and there? I couldn’t stand by and I couldn’t walk away from that. I dropped my bags, pulled out my long knife and started at a run toward them. “Get the fuck off of me, fucking bastard!” she screamed as he picked her up with her arms tied behind her back. He was forcing her back to his truck, but she was fighting every step. “I’m not a fucking breeder. Kill me now, fuck face. Kill me!” Diana yelled in his face. “Nah, I lost four good men on this run. I’m taking you and your supplies back with me.” He pushed her up against his truck and tore her jeans down with a quick jerk. “But, I think I’ll take it out on your ass right here and now.” “Fuck you! You fucking small dicked ass-face. Fuck you! Don’t fucking touch me!” she screamed. He slammed her head against the truck angrily, a hard hit for every word he said, “Shut-the-fuck-up, uppity-bitch.” She fell on the ground, not unconscious, but not able to do or say much. The cowboy pulled her panties down, revealing her naked ass, which he tenderly pet and lightly slapped before standing up to unzip his own jeans. Diana was moaning her pain as she tried to turn and look up at the asshole standing over her. I saw blood on her forehead as I ran upon them. She turned her head my way, seeing me coming and smiled. He had his erect penis out and in his hands when he finally turned and saw me coming at him, but it was too late. I stabbed him in the stomach before he could say a word. I pulled the knife out and stabbed him again and again as he fell against his truck. His large blue eyes were fixed on me with confusion and pain. Blood erupted from his mouth and I stabbed him one last time for good measure. I could feel my blade hit something hard, probably his backbone. I watched him die and I had to admit, it was a rush. I was breathing heavily and staring at the man’s corpse when Diana interrupted my daze. “Little help?” she asked in a quiet voice. I shook my head. “Yeah.” I bent down and cut the thin rope that bound her wrists together and then backed up and gave her space. I was thinking about just walking away right then and there but I wanted to really meet this woman, Diana. There was something about her that drew me in. I watched her get up off the ground and pull her panties and pants up. She steadied herself with a hand on the truck and held her head. “Thank you,” she said to me without looking up at me, but at the blood on her hands that came from her head wound. “I hate rapists,” I said. She did look up at me then. Her brown eye seemed almost a rich amber the way the sun hit them. Her face was a contradicting mess of features. She had a youthful face full of freckles and even skin, but her eyes gave her away as someone older. Her eyebrows were thin, arched and mischievous, but her lips were pale and pouty and just as freckled as the rest of her. All of this was perfectly framed by a long mess of rich auburn hair, which shined in the sun like an orange-gold thing. “You, too,” was all she said, revealing a gap in her teeth and I felt instantly protective of this woman, who was both strong and fragile, young and old. Strange. She kicked the dead cowboy’s body and giggled when it fell over. “He died with his dick in his hands,” she laughed. I smiled.



((end of chapter 4))

Read Chapter 5 Now!


Everything is Awsome

So, it's been near a month since my last post. Well, I'll tell you what's going on. First, that man who rear-ended me totally got away with it 100%. He knew that it's not a hit and run if you give the person you hit your phone #, so that's what he did. What good that does me, ZERO. He won't give me his insurance info and no one will help me, not the police and not my insurance company. This guy, Mark Williams of Olympia Washington is a total loser a-hole. On the possibly bright side, if there even is one, my health insurance company wants to know who is responsible for my ER visit since I listed the cause of my injuries as a car accident. I'm going to tell them everything and give them all of Mr. Williams information. If they want to go after him for the $2,000 plus medical bill, well that would be just swell.



Otherwise, work has its ups and downs.  Other than that, there literally isn't much I can say about the SCC...really, I signed a nondisclosure agreement, so yeah...I'm a writer and the most interesting part of my life, the place I spend 10-18 hours a day at, the rehab facility for Violent Sex Offenders...that place, I can't talk about. I'm having trouble writing my 2nd zombie book because my overactive imagination is saturated with the oddity that is my day job, and I can't do a dang thing about it. LOL




As for the second Zombie Book, it's a crawl to the finish line. The finish line being October 31st, the planned publishing date. Which means it needs to be done way before then to be edited properly and the cover designed...I'm hoping to post the 4th chapter to this here blog shortly. It's a good thing I'm writing shorter novella's of late. With just 15 chapters planned, I'm a 3rd of the way through.




Even though the Zombie Book is slow going, that doesn't mean I'm not writing. It just means it's hard for me to keep my head in it. I am also writing my sexy book, the erotic novel. It will be a full novel of some 300 to 400 pages, so yeah, I'm still busy. I won't say working where I work doesn't make it hard to write that kind of sexy business though. It does. I'm hypersensitive to unbalanced dynamics in relationships, toxic shit. So you won't see any of that creepy Bella/ Edward shit. Or that totally fucked up 50 shades of gray crap. I'm not saying it's all good clean well-adjusted relationships. I'm just saying that that kind of obsessive, toxic, possessive behavior and sexual violence will not be glorified in my sexy time book.

Well, that's me for now. Thank you for reading and I love you!





Thursday, June 7, 2018

REAR-ENDED ON MY WAY TO WORK...


On Tuesday I was rear-ended on my way to work. I thought I was okay, but halfway through my shift my legs started cramping on me. Only walking helped but I started having mini panic attacks throughout my shift. My appetite was gone. I forced myself to eat an apple and then cried myself to sleep...I had no idea why I couldn't stop crying...



On Wednesday I still had no appetite, but I forced myself to eat a sandwich. I had a massive headache all day at work, and pain pills were not helping at all. My legs and back ached and I couldn't go for a walk while at work...so it just got worse and worse and so did my mood. My head was throbbing by the time I left work. I wanted to punch something and cry and I didn't understand why my emotions were so uncontrollable. I hid away on the boat and cried the whole way across the water. (I work on an island...)

I managed to stop crying when I got off the boat but once inside my car I started crying uncontrollably again and hyperventilating. While driving home I still couldn't stop crying, I couldn't focus, the pain in my legs, head, and back was too great. My husband drove me to the ER when I got home. I was a puking aching mess!

4 hours later the doctor said my bones and spine are fine, but my muscles are pulling, bunched up and inflamed. He said my body was releasing tons of chemicals like adrenaline, which when not used (walking) caused panic attacks. And then when the adrenaline wore off I plummeted into depression (uncontrollable crying) I know I looked a mess at work... But I'm on muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatory drugs now.

Hopefully this pain doesn't last and hopefully the guy who hit me doesn't try to hurt me some more by ignoring me...He's a small business owner and asked that I not call the police or insurance company. I'm not about hurting people over accidents so in my shocked and panicked state of mind I agreed...we'll see. I'm not trying to get him to pay for the ER visit, just my trunk and tail light. Fingers crossed he's a good person.

Monday, May 21, 2018

Fuck That Guy


My daughter has an awesome sense of fashion all her own.


But for weeks now she's been complaining about a boy at school who makes fun of what she wears to the point that she's not wearing her favorite clothes anymore. She makes a mental note of everything this little boy says to her and adjusts accordingly. 


These past weeks I told her to ignore him. That his opinion doesn't matter. That she should be herself. That she'll never make everyone happy, no matter how much she changes for them...none of that sunk in. 


This morning I had enough! I told her flat out, this boy is garbage. His brain is full of shit and piss and that's all that comes out when he talks, shit and piss...like a slashing bucket of feces. Don't let his ignorant shit talk mess with your style. You're fucking beautiful.


Saturday, May 19, 2018

ZOMBIE BOOK 2: CHAPTER 3

The new chapter 3 of book 2. (a work in progress)
If you haven't read chapter 1 PRESS HERE




THE
ZOMBIE
BOOK
2
The Zombie Book Series
By Diana Graves

Copyright © 2018 Diana Graves
All rights reserved.
Kindle Edition


3




TRITON was less of a town and more just a series of homes along the road that traveled adjacent to the Puget Sound, but the boys were right. It didn’t take me long to find a boat. In fact, I found a few. Covered by a moldy blue tarp was a small speed boat sitting beside an abandoned a-frame cabin. Even though the engine was solar powered, it didn’t look like it would run so I wasn’t surprised when it didn’t. The other two boats I found were overturned and encompassed by thorny vines near the water.
Gerald pulled out his knife and began cutting away at the vines that covered the larger of the two boats. I set my two bags down and looked out over the water at Frenchman’s Cove. Triton is parallel to Seattle but there’s a large arrowhead shaped landmass between the two, the Kitsap Peninsula, also known as the Great Peninsula.  The path Derek drew out for me on the map had me traveling around the peninsula, far north and then coming back down. It seemed like a waste of time, but I understood his reasoning. Less traveling by land means less zombie encounters. Safety. Talking about zombie safety, there was a sound that caught me attention just then, a wrestling of leaves, a breaking of twigs, maybe thirty or forty yards away...
“I told you. You need me,” Gerald said as he hacked at the vines, pulling them away with a gloved hand.
“Yes, I could never have cut those vines all by my lonesome. Whatever would I have done without you?” I said with a deadpan face and quiet voice as my eyes scanned the woods that surrounded us.
“Ha-ha,” he mocked. “You say that but who’s doing the cutting and who’s staring off into la-la land?”
“Shut up.”
He stopped cutting and looked at me happily confused. “Did I offend you? I thought you were supposed to be a badass.” He shook his head and ripped through the last of the thorny vines with a chuckle and a grunt.
“You need to shut up because I think I heard something.”
Gerald flipped the boat over with a quickly beefy motion. “Let’s try the motor,” he said.
“No,” I said firmly. “There’s movement in these woods. I think something is coming, some things.”
“Zombies? I don’t hear anything.”
“Good for you. I do, though.” I looked down at the boat he’d overturned. It was a small fishing boat with a large gas motor on it. It looked like it had some gas in the tank, but one of the blades was broken.
“Broken blade,” Gerald pointed out. “But it will probably still function, that is if the gas is still good after three years. Gas has a shelf life of only a few months. If it’s an ethanol blend, then maybe a year.”
“So it’s a bust. What about the other boat? It looks like a peddle boat.”
“It is, but I want to try the bigger boat first. It can fit both of us and our gear. Plus, our legs will get fucking tired of peddling quick.”
“Hey,” I said and I put my hand on his arm to stop him from pull-starting the engine on the bigger boat. “You’re not coming with me. I agreed to let you come with me this far, but only one of us is getting in a boat. Me, just me.”
“Erin, you have to admit that you need me. You can’t-”
“Stop,” I said and I tightened my grip on his arm, but he pulled the engine’s cord to spite me. Thankfully and predictably it didn’t start. The gas in the tank had gone to shit years ago. Even still, the engine made a loud go of it before failing. I stared at the woods, listening carefully. Nothing. Maybe it was animals I heard before? I let out a breath of relief. “Fuck! What’s your problem?”
“I don’t like that you’re just leaving, just like that, just fucking chasing some goddamn idea of saving humanity.” His usually jovial face turned mean too suddenly for me to keep up. “This is fucking stupid, Erin. You’re being fucking stupid! You’re not thinking right because you’re scared. You’re running away and it’s bull shit! And everyone knows it. You’re being a fucking coward. Let’s go back to the bunker, back to your son.”
I forced myself to look into his angry judgmental stare. It wasn’t easy because part of what he said was true. Being in that bunker, infected as I was, was hard. I felt like a trapped animal, feared and pitied. Maybe it was stupid to think there were still scientists alive in Seattle, and that my peculiar infection could help anyone or anything. It was very likely I was wasting my time, that this was a suicide mission I concocted because I had to tell myself that I could make this all mean something when it meant nothing. In fact, maybe he was one-hundred percent right about me and what I was doing. Maybe I was running away. As doubt filled my eyes, Gerald moved away from me. He grabbed up my bags and started walking back toward the bunker, thinking he’d won.
“Come on. Let’s go home.”
For a moment I thought I’d follow him but there was movement in the woods and I knew it wasn’t animals this time. It was zombies moving in on us.
“Stop!” I shouted at Gerald before he moved too far from me. He stopped and looked back at me with angry eyes. A zombie was coming at him and he didn’t even see it. It looked recently dead, hardly any rot on him. Maybe a day...It still had its lips and eyes intact. I pulled my machete out of my belt and ran at it.
“Hey!” Gerald yelled as I chased toward him, obviously thinking I was attacking him and not the rotting thing behind him. He dodged out of my path and I brought my machete down on the zombie’s head. I pulled it down to the ground and freed my machete from its skull with a foot on its head and a quick yank.
“Oh,” Gerald said.
“They’re everywhere,” I turned on the spot, looking at the woods around us. “Fifteen or more. It’s a horde!”
“I can smell them but I can’t see them. Where are they coming from?”
Mostly the south, but there are a few coming from the west and north.”
“They surrounded us? Are we dealing with intelligent zombies again?” Gerald panicked.
“No, I don’t think so. The zombies from the north smell like sea water, like they crawled out of the Sound. The zombies from the west look fresh, like the one that attacked you. Those from the south smell like they are long dead, just bloated rotting things. Three different groups are converging on us. Probably following the sound of that fucking engine you tried to start.”
Gerald gave me a dirty look before he pulled out his gun and knife, preparing for the zombies that were walking toward us slowly.
“We can outrun them and make it back to the bunker. They’ll follow us, but with Derek and Pane we can take them out easy,” Gerald said.
“You run back to the bunker, I’m heading to Seattle,” I said and I turned and ran back to the vine-covered peddle boat. Gerald had cut up the vines so completely that I pulled the boat out with relative ease.
“Erin!” Gerald shouted. I looked back to see him cut into the skull of one zombie and then another. A third western zombie rambled out of the forest, falling on the ground and not knowing how to get up. It struggled like a turtle on its back.  Gerald walked up to it and jumped on his head, breaking it like a rotten pumpkin after Halloween. The two zombies from the Puget Sound, soggy meat sacks, no hands, pale skin and half eaten, probably by fish, were crawling toward Gerald with seaweed and fish netting dragging behind them.
“Fuck!” I said as I moved toward them. I didn’t want to move closer, but I did. I got close enough to see the barnacles growing on the exposed bone. I cringed as I slashed downward into the face of the closer zombie with, slicing through fluid-filled skin, brittle bone and rancid brains, which erupted upward like black water from a whale’s blowhole.
The other sea zombie ignored me completely and moved toward Gerald, whose back was turned as he watched the southern horde moving in. I approached it from behind, stabbing it in its fat head, more careful of the blackened brainy eruption that followed.  Nasty.
I looked up when I saw Gerald moving in my peripheral vision.  He was backing away from the advancing dead. I looked back to find them close and moving closer, a truly gruesome sight. These poor souls had been rotting for at least a year. Their lips were all but gone, eaten away or shriveled to nothing, leaving their broken teeth bare to the world, like a permanent snarl. Their eyes were either bloated with pus or wrinkled into raisins.  Their stench choked me as they walked right past me to get to Gerald. They didn’t want me? They knew! Somehow they knew I wasn’t food anymore. I was one of them. I was a zombie!
“Erin!” I heard Gerald shout.
I looked back at him with wide eyes and I could feel the hot tears fall down my cheek before I realized I was crying. It shocked me, woke me up from my feelings, brought me back to what was happening around me.
Gerald was still backing away from the advancing dead, but he was looking at me; shocked and reluctant to leave even though I was safe and he was clearly outnumbered.
I could have killed them all without a fight, cut all their heads open, but that sounded like exhausting work so I ran instead. I ran back to the larger boat and pulled the red gas tank out of the hull and began dumping it on the zombies. Gerald must have figured out my plan because when I looked for him, I found him digging in my bags, hopefully looking for my easy-light matches Derek packed for me. He needed time though, so I ran ahead of them and started cutting into the horde to keep them off of Gerald.
“I got them!” he shouted.
“Give them to me!” I yelled without looking back. I put my free hand out, palm up, expecting him to put the matches in my hand. He did. “Go drag the peddle boat into the water,” I ordered while he seemed so obedient.  He ran toward the boats.
It took a few matches before the whole group was on fire, but I managed it and to my surprise, I didn’t get burned. Because the zombies were still after Gerald, even while on fire, I had them following me as I ran toward him and the water.
He was standing in the water, bent over the peddle boat and looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read. I stomped into the water fast and took my bag off his shoulder and he let me as he watched the burning zombies start to fall to the ground mere feet from us.
I looked back at them. “I guess the fire got to their brains. Hotheads.” I chuckled at my little joke, a joke that needed to be made because shit was getting too serious.
“You’re a zombie,” Gerald said.
I looked at him and then back down at the boat because for the first time he looked scared of me like the other. “I need to go and you’re not coming with me.”
“No, I’m not,” he said and he dropped the second bag he was still holding into the boat and walked back toward the land, where the zombies were still burning, but no longer moving, no longer undead. Gerald looked back at me once he was on dry land and a few feet away from the zombie bonfire. He waved goodbye. I didn’t. I climbed into the boat and began peddling away.

Monday, May 7, 2018

ZOMBIE BOOK 2: CHAPTER 2

The new chapter 2 of book 2. (a work in progress)
If you haven't read chapter 1 PRESS HERE

Damn, my new job at a rehabilitation center for sexually violent peoples is far too distracting to keep a normal writing schedule. That's something I have to work on. It took me months to get around to actually writing this chapter, and it can't be like that. I promise myself, from now on I will write at least a chapter a week. I've done all the research. I've planned every chapter. Now all I need to do is sit down a write them. 



THE
ZOMBIE
BOOK
2
The Zombie Book Series
By Diana Graves

Copyright © 2017 Diana Graves
All rights reserved.
Kindle Edition



I felt jostled awake by another nightmare. That wasn’t uncommon for me. I’d been having nightmares ever since I watched my husband die right in front of me. He was a diabetic but we’d been hiding in our home for months while zombies rampaged outside our walls. His glucose was low and so were our rations. He guilted me into eating so I would keep producing milk for Christopher, while he practically starved himself.  I was breastfeeding Chris on our bed by candlelight when he walked into the room clumsily and fell to the floor and began seizing. I climbed off the bed, leaving our infant to cry out for me. I held him while he shook violently, but just as the seizure passed and he opened his eyes and looked directly at me, he blacked out and never woke up. In my nightmares, he either woke up and began screaming at me for letting him die or he turned into a zombie and tore Chris apart.
I hopped down from the gurney and turned the lights back on in Karen’s office. I opened Karen’s black zombie book and reread a note of her’s that had been bothering me.

Doctor Duskin, entry 30. Day 560 since U.W. incident.
None of these local zombies are anything like the patients we saw in Russia. The earlier infected were violent but they never tried to actually eat anyone...bite yes, but not consume. And the pattern of rot is different also. The local zombies have general rot all over their bodies, while the earlier versions only rotted at sites of infected injuries, like patches of gangrene. This is a drastic evolution. Gangrene could possibly travel through the bloodstream, but what could cause obsessive-compulsive hunger for raw flesh?

“What indeed?” I said aloud to no one. Good to his world, no one had bothered me in days and I found myself regretting the request. I missed people...Just not enough to reach out to them. As much as I wanted someone else to talk to, I didn’t want to be forced behind the glass again, like some kind of fucking prisoner or animal.
I’d taken over Karen’s zombie book, adding my own notes from all that I’d seen during the first three years of the outbreak. Such as how they liked to travel in groups and seemed attracted to sound, even when their ears had rotten away...Then I turned to the internet. Yes, we had internet access. It was limited, but the whole world hadn’t gone to shit, just a few choice places...From the CDC’s own website, I took notes on what they’d shared about the zombie outbreak. They reported that the disease was evolving around the world in different ways. In some areas in the Middle East, the infected were growing extra limbs. The idea of a zombie with four arms was fucking disturbing! In South America, the infected were growing larger, like long and lanky giant zombies. Fuck! I guess I should consider us in the US lucky for now. But so far there was no mention of a thinking zombie. It seemed I was the only one. Now, if only there was a way to communicate with the CDC. Unfortunately, the US Government decided in their infinite wisdom that those inside the infected zone could see the internet, but not interact with it in any way whatsoever. No emails, messages, chats, posts, tweets, comments or video uploads of any kind were allowed. I had no way of letting the world know about me.
The door opened and Pane walked into the room saying, “Morning,” cheerfully. I got out of my seat immediately and moved to the metal door.
“You forgot to let me know you were coming in,” I said as I moved to shut the door between us, but Pane put his hand on the door.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he said. “Blimey,” he breathed as he looked me up and down. “You look bloody awful.”
“I know.”
“You’re not hungry for me, are you?”
I scoffed, “You’re a cute little Brit, but I prefer taller men.”
Pane rolled his eyes. “I volunteered to come in unannounced to see if you were a flesh eater. Clearly, you’re not. Derek and Gerald and I agree that you should come out of here. It’s been far too long. If you were going to lose your mind you would have done it by now.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve always been a procrastinator.” Pane laughed. “How’s Chris?”
“He’s great.”
“Great?”
“You know, playful and learning how to be a normal kid again.”
A normal kid? “He was never a normal kid before. Normal kid’s don’t have zombie moms.”
Pane shrugged. “Such are the times we live in.” I eyed Pane thoughtfully. “What is it?”
“I do need to get out of here.”
“Fantastic. I’ll let the others know,” he said with a smile and a clap of his hands. “We’ve missed you.”
“No, I mean that I need to get out of here. Out of the bunker. I need to go to Seattle.”
He blinked his pretty eyes at me several times, trying to think of what I said and what he should say maybe. “Why? What’s in Seattle?”
“The University of Washington and maybe someone who could use my blood to help. There could also be more people like me, thinking infected.”
Pane held up his finger as if to make an argument, but instead, he turned around and walked out of the room altogether. While he was out I started packing. I didn’t have much to pack in here. A couple changes of clothes that Gerald had brought in to me while I slept last night. He was pretty good at keeping me in clean clothes. Today I was wearing ill-fitting blue jeans and a green t-shirt. I packed a toothbrush, four water bottles, and the zombie book into a black bag that had once held some spare lab equipment, which now on the floor.
Derek walked into the room. He looked down at the bag and then back at me. “Come into the common area,” was all he said before he walked away, leaving the door open.  
With my bag hiked over my shoulder I followed him down a wide hall, which appeared very much like I’d imagine a submarine looked like on the inside. There were metal tubes running along the walls and bare lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. Every door, including the one I just walked through, was a huge metal thing, like a bank’s safe door.
The common area of the bunker was a living room, dining room, garden and kitchen all in one open space. Chris and Sarah, Derek’s teenaged daughter were sitting together on the couch watching an old movie, Willy Wonka, and the Chocolate Factory. Chris didn’t notice me when I entered the room but Sarah did. She looked nothing like Derek. Her skin and eyes were a lighter shade of brown than his. Everything about her was delicate while everything about Derek was large and imposing. Her eyes widened at the sight of me. I smiled to try and ease her obvious fear but otherwise chose to ignore her and gave the living room my back as I approached the dining table where Derek sat beside Pane. They were looking down at a map that was unfolded on the table.  I glanced at Gerald, who was rummaging through the kitchen cupboards.
“Where are we?” I asked Pane and Derek.
Derek pointed to a red mark on the map inside the Olympic Rainforest. “We are here, just a few miles west of Triton. It’s a small town on the Puget Sound. Almost everyone who lives there has a boat. You’re bound to find at least one available.”
Looking down at the map, Seattle was almost parallel with Triton. “Smart. Taking a boat through the Sound will be faster than walking or driving around,” I said.
“Safer, too,” Gerald chimed in with his head in a cupboard.”
“But, I’ve never driven a boat before.”
Pane got up and opened a cupboard near the dining table. He grabbed a two-way radio out and set it on the table.
“You’ll take one of these with you. When you find a boat, radio us and we can look up the specs over the internet and talk you through it.”
“Awesome possum. How far can these radios reach?”
“The box they came in said up to thirty-six miles, but we’ve found it’s closer to twenty miles, less if there is any kind of obstruction; buildings or mountains,” said Pane.
Gerald set down two large bags. “Weapons and food.”
I looked at the bags with wide eyes. “There is no way I’m caring three large bags from here to Seattle.”
“You carry one and I’ll carry the other two,” Gerald said.
“I’m going alone.”
“You can’t-” Gerald started to say but I stood up abruptly and he stopped.
“I’m going alone,” I said again and my voice held demand and authority in a way that made me sound alien to even me.  To his credit, Gerald met my stern glare with his own, but he didn’t argue with me.
I set my own bag on the table beside the two he packed. I opened all three bags. His two bags were actual tactical gear and not simply storage for spare equipment so I emptied everything out of my bag and made some room in one of the other bags by taking out half the food Gerald had placed in it. Looking down at the weapons bag in thought, I decided against guns. Guns just attracted undead and people. Both were not desired. I grabbed a couple knives and tucked them in with my food and clothes. I zipped the bag and put the strap over my shoulder, crossing my body.
“Is that all you’re taking?” asked Derek.
I grabbed a machete from the weapon’s bag. “Yup.”
“You’ll need a rain poncho, belt, and good boots,” said Gerald.”
“That would be nice. And a spare sleeping bag if you’ve got it.”
“You got it,” said Gerald.
“Say goodbye to your son,” Derek suggested. I looked at Chris. He was engrossed in Willy’s Factory. If he hadn’t noticed me yet, I could easily slip away without scaring him with my ugly mug. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
Damn it. I knew he was right. I pulled my dark hair back and tied it into a knot on my head while I walked to the couch. I sat down beside them. Sarah looked at me with caution.
“Chris?”
Christopher didn’t look up at me. He placed his head in my lap and smiled.
“You scary Mommy,” he said.  “You a zombie?”
“Yes,” I said with my lips curled into a sad smile. I was happy to hear his vocabulary expanding but sad that he spoke the truth.
“I love you.” Heartbreaking! I’d never heard him say those words before.
“I love you, too. I have to go, but I’ll be back.”
“Okay,” he said and he sat back up and looked at me. “I safe here.”
“Yes, you are.” I kissed the top of his head, taking in a deep breath and forcing myself to memorize his smell.

Chapter 3: PRESS HERE