1 Prologue

2025:

I threw a couple of pairs of boots into my shopping cart and wandered over to the clothing section. Being set loose in a shopping mall with the ability to pick up anything that you wanted without having to worry about paying for it was probably every teenage girl's dream. But, somehow, things didn't seem the same; the store was eerily silent around me without the murmur of other shoppers or the typical elevator music that I remember so well, playing in the background.

At one time, shopping and getting my hair and nails done with my friends was one of the most important things in my life. Looking back, it's hard to believe that I was once so young and carefree, and yes, I said it, selfish. Even though it's only been three years, It seems like a lifetime ago since I was that happy fifteen-year-old.

For the longest time, all that I wanted was to get that life back. I desperately missed my friends and family and the life that we once had. Sometimes at night, I would close my eyes and pretend that I was back home in Topeka and safe in my own bed with my parents just down the hall in their room. Instead of sleeping on the cold hard ground with my gun by my side.

But no longer, I'm done grieving for what could have been. Now my nails are short and unpolished, and my formerly perfectly styled hair with its beachy waves is long and usually worn in a braid. Combat boots and dark jeans have replaced my jeweled sandals and shorts. Sometimes I still miss that girl and her innocence but, I like the new me even more. My life is filled with a new purpose to rid this world of that abomination, that we for lack of a better word, call zombies. These last few years have taught me the fragility of life; you never know when you might wake up one morning to find life as you know it to be gone. And for that matter, you just never know if this might be your last day on earth.

So yeah, I've had to grow up a little faster than expected, and it hasn't been easy, but I'm not the type to cry and whine about it. Whiners usually don't live very long in this world, and besides, I have more things to consider now that I'm about to be a mom. Some might question the wisdom of bringing new life into a world like this. But how else can you rebuild? Besides, I know that my children will be fighters, which is something that this world needs.

I picked up some shorts and a few tops, I wouldn't need much, but I had grown out of everything during the last couple of months. Luckily, in about a month, the twins would be born, and things would start getting back to normal, whatever that was.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I glanced around uneasily; Logan had gone into the camping store next door, so I should have been alone, but something told me that I wasn't. During the past few years, my senses had developed considerably, and they were rarely wrong.

I sniffed a couple of times, and the tell-tale odor of slowly rotting flesh reached my nose. It's hard to describe, but there is a difference between the smell of a normal dead body and that of a zombie. For one thing, a zombie decomposes very slowly; I'm not sure why, but it has to do with the nature of the virus. But whatever the reasons, it does have a different odor, a sharper, more pungent odor somewhat like rotting cabbage mixed with a dead skunk and something else that is uniquely zombie.

I reach for my rifle with one smooth movement and whirl around, automatically firing as I turn. Leaving gory bits and pieces of zombie splattered throughout the maternity section. Just then, I catch some movement to my right, and quickly turning, I see Logan running towards me. No doubt attracted by the gunshot. I lowered my rifle and gave a cheeky grin, "not bad for a pregnant lady."

"We need to get out of here," he said with a worried look. "This place is crawling with zombies. They are piling in here through the service entrance in the back of the mall. Most likely attracted by the sound of the gunshot when you killed that one." Logan gestured to the zombie lying on the floor several feet away.

I frowned, rubbing my achy back, " How many did you see?"

"I'm not sure, but probably several hundred."

"Perfect," I smiled. " We can burn the place down and get rid of a bunch of these monsters."

"There's a service station next door, let's get some gasoline."

"Sounds like a plan, but let's hurry up," I said with a winch. "From the way my back is aching, I think that the twins might be in a hurry to be born."

Jason's face paled, " maybe we should just go now."

"Oh no, the twins will have to wait just a little longer because I want to see this place burn!"

An hour later, my parents drove off in their battered old pickup as the mall burned to the ground, taking a good part of the town's zombies with it. And a short time after my brother Lucas and I made our entrance into this world. My name is Kaley Black, and this is my story.

* * *

October 15th, 2040:

I sat my history book down beside me with a sigh and stared off into the distance. Today was unusually hot for October, and for whatever reason, I couldn't seem to keep my mind on my studies. Even moving outside to study on the front porch where I could catch a breeze wasn't helping.

My twin Lucas is off doing his own thing, and I'm starting to feel a little bored when I catch some movement out of the corner of my eye. That's when I realize that someone is sitting on the tree swing in the old magnolia tree a few feet away from the house's corner. Strangely enough, I hadn't even noticed him until now.

I frowned and walked a little closer, realizing that it was Oliver Miller, a neighbor boy who lived around five miles to the west of our farm. At first, he said nothing: just sat there, swinging back and forth, sandy blonde hair hanging in his eyes, humming a song I couldn't quite catch under his breath, and looking off into nothing.

I blame myself for what happened that day, and I probably always will. Because I should have realized sooner what was going on, but I think that we had just grown complacent. Grandma and my mother had sheltered Lucas and me for so long. And neither one of us had ever seen a zombie, let alone come into contact with one, so it didn't seem that real to either of us. And as a result, I didn't even realize what was staring me right in the face until it was too late.

Oliver was a couple of years older than us, so he usually preferred the company of kids his own age, and I didn't know him all that well, but this was unusual behavior even for him. His face was paler than usual, but his fingers and around his mouth were stained with purple. Almost like he'd been eating blackberries, and even as I watched, it started spidering out across his face like blood veins.

I caught my breath and froze for a second as my blood ran cold; I slowly started to back away, knowing that any sudden movement could set off a burst of violence. I knew from my training that Oliver must still be in the process of turning and wouldn't yet have good control over his body, which would work in my favor. But, he would also be incredibly fast and strong, far stronger, and quicker than the normal boy his age.

Just then, Oliver's head turned, slowly and awkwardly, almost as if he was still new to his body. His head was slightly tilted, almost like a dog might do when his pale gray bloodshot eyes met mine, and he stared at me, looking almost puzzled. His lips were slightly open, and dark red spittle ran down his chin as he started whispering one word over and over again, "hungry."

I took another step, and Oliver stumbled off the swing; he took a couple of steps and fell to his knees, where he stayed with a confused look on his face, seemingly unsure of what to do next. I took another step back and, attracted by the movement, his pale dead eyes locked on mine, and I could see no humanity left in him. All that was left was a dangerous hungry predator; he sniffed a couple of times, and I realized with horror that he could smell me. Grandma always said that zombies were attracted to smell as well as sound. Which, when you thought about it, did make sense because how else would they be able to identify their prey.

He lurched to his feet, unconsciously uttering a low hungry moan that caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. I took another step back until I reached the side of the house. I could feel the heat from the house burning through my thin shirt as I prayed for a little more time, just one more step, and I would be at the corner of the house.

"Mom, help zombie," I called, desperately hoping that I hadn't made a big mistake when the sound of my voice seemed to excite Oliver even more.

He lunged straight at me with almost inhuman strength while snarling and growling. Frantically I threw myself sideways, landing awkwardly on the ground a few feet away. Oliver hit the side of the house head-on, which stunned him for a moment and allowed me time to scramble to my feet and make a run for the backyard.

"Kaley, look out." I heard Lucas yell and turned to see Oliver just a couple of feet away. Unfortunately, because my head was turned, I overlooked the flowerbed that was now right in front of me until I tripped over it. An instant later, I hit the ground, and Oliver was on me.

Right after that, Lucas hit him with a garden hoe, and the next few seconds passed in a blur of yelling, growling, and a spray of blood and gore when my mom blew Oliver's head off with her shotgun.

She hugged me tight, and I assured her that I was okay. Grimacing a little at the spray of blood and that covered our clothes.

"You'll need to get that washed off as quickly as possible. And be sure to not touch your face or eyes with your hands or to get any of it on your face when you wash your hair," Mom ordered.

"I'll help her get cleaned up," Grandma said, helping me up off the ground.

Mom looked past me, searching for my brother, and that was when I saw the relief on her face replaced by one of dread when we noticed Lucas sitting on the ground holding his left arm with a look of absolute terror on his face. It was a look that I will never forget for as long as I live.

"Mom," he whispered, "Oliver bit me."

"Oh, no. It's all my fault." I whispered and felt all the strength leave my body as I fell to my knees on the ground beside him.

* * *

I tossed and turned before sighing and turning over in bed one last time to glance at the old wind-up clock sitting on the bedside table. The bright moonlight shining through the window and across the clock's face revealed that it was only 12:30 a.m. And I wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but the thought of an icy cold glass of water fresh from the well wouldn't let me.

I usually brought a glass up to bed with me, but tonight for some reason, I'd forgotten, and at this point, I realized there was no way that I was getting back to sleep any time soon without a drink. In the dimly lit hallway outside my room, everything seemed quiet and peaceful. And I could almost fool myself that everything was right with the world. Just across the hall from my room, I could hear my twin's even deep breathing, and I hoped that his dreams were peaceful. Ever since the incident with the zombie, I'd had trouble sleeping. And when I did manage to get some sleep, my dreams were filled with nightmares. And I would hate to think that his were the same.

Downstairs the house was quiet and mostly dark, but I noticed a thin sliver of light coming from the study as I walked through the living room. Obviously, someone was still up, but thinking nothing of it, I crossed into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, and listened to the murmur of my mom and grandmother's voices coming from the study as I drank it.

I briefly thought about going back upstairs to give them their privacy, but Mom and Grandma still treated me like a child even though I was almost sixteen years old. This meant that sometimes sitting quietly was the only way to figure out what was going on.

"Riley, I just don't think that it's a good idea." Grandma's voice had risen slightly, which told me that she was getting a little upset.

"What other choice do we have?"

"I don't know, but there has to be another way." I could tell from the sound of her voice that Grandma really didn't believe that there was.

"Mom, you've noticed how tortured she is with guilt over what happened that day. Allowing Kaley to help fix this will go a long way towards healing her pain."

Grandma's voice choked for a moment, "she's just a child; they both are."

"She's the same age that I was the day the world ended," Riley replied starkly.

Their voices dropped, and I missed the next few sentences, so I sat my empty water glass on the counter and crept out into the hallway in an effort to hear better. A floorboard in our 150-year-old farmhouse creaked under my feet, and I froze, holding my breath. A moment later, I was face-to-face with my mom. Curiously enough, she didn't look the least surprised to see me there.

"If you're going to eavesdrop on people, you need to learn to be a little quieter," she remarked dryly. "But since you're here, you might as well come inside because we need to get this settled as soon as possible."

"How much of our conversation did you hear?" Grandma asked.

"Not much, just enough to know that you might have found something to help Lucas."

"That's right," Mom replied. "As you know, it's been several months since Lucas was bitten, and he's not getting any better or any worse for that matter. We think that he has just enough natural immunity to keep the virus from turning him. But it's also not strong enough to cure him."

"What can I do to help him?" I asked and took a seat in front of the fireplace.

Grandma sighed, "I've been in contact with someone who might be able to help Lucas. Her name is Celeste LeBlanc, and she lives in New Orleans, anyway; she has had some success with sometimes turning the newly infected back. It doesn't always work, but she feels that Lucas, because of his natural immunity, just might have a chance."

Excitedly I jumped to my feet, "that's great; when can she come?"

"That's just it; we have to bring him there to her. But, I need to leave for Atlanta in the morning, that last uprising was larger than anticipated, and I haven't heard from your dad for several days, which has me a little worried. Anyway, I want you and your grandma to take Lucas to New Orleans. " Mom's voiced softened a little, "Kaley, stay safe and help your grandma take care of your brother. You're a strong young woman, and I know that you'll do just fine."

"When do we leave?" I asked, excited and, at the same time, a little apprehensive about traveling, as we didn't leave the farm all that often.

"First thing in the morning," Grandma replied, " We just need to make one stop as I'm a little short on ammo and a few supplies."