Jack Lewis - Fear the Dead: A Zombie Apocalypse Book

Fear the Dead

A novel by Jack Lewis

Copyright2015 by Jack Lewis. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publicationmay be replicated, redistributed, or given away without the prior writtenconsent of the author.

Thisbook is dedicated to my wife, who has the patience to listen to me, and to mymum, who knows that asking for honest feedback means tell me what you likeabout the book.

Chapter 1

Black shadows slid fromthe spines of the trees and covered the woods in darkness. Night was nearlyhere, and soon it wouldn't just be the infected lurking in the forest; thestalkers were coming.

The rain beat down on thehood of my windbreaker in heavy patters that danced off the top of my head and seemedto weigh me down with each drip. My shoulders were slick with water from wherethe waterproof lining of my coat had faded. Across to my left, in the distance,an infected stumbled through the trees, its clumsy footsteps crunching on thetwigs beneath it.

I reached for my knife. Ithought about getting out my revolver from my bag, but gunshots were the lastthing I needed. That was a sure fire way of getting a crowd of infected to comelooking for you, drawn in by the prospect of a meal. I walked quieter andbreathed a little softer.

The sky darkened a shade.My stomach felt empty and ached with hunger. My legs were leaden and each stepwas a chore. I needed to sit down, I needed food, and I had to get to shelterbefore the stalkers came.

There was a town calledVasey less than an hours walk away. There would be walls and a roof to guardme from the elements and the things that walked in the night. There would befires warmth - and God, maybe even a beer. My mouth watered at the idea ofgulping on a bottle of cold ale.

The problem with going totown was there would also be people there, and lots of them. Vasey was thebiggest settlement of survivors in Lancashire, and it was as safe a place youcould get in this new world. Well, everyone called it the new world, but reallyit had only been fifteen years since the dead had first started rise and eatpeople. A lot of things had changed since then. People had changed since then,and not for the better. No, I would give town a miss. Id learnt better than toseek out the company of people, and Id learnt there was no man or women whocared about your survival as much as they did their own, no matter how muchthey tried to believe in their pretend civilisation.

I thought about my oldlife. I thought about Clara, and the way she used to tug at my hand when shesaw an infected, about how good I used to feel knowing I could keep her safe.So much for that.

The sky was darkening, Ihad pangs of pain in my stomach and my legs felt like they were going tocollapse underneath me, but I couldn't go to town. There were too many people.I looked around me. To my left the lone infected seemed to be walking in theother direction. I moved my hand away from my knife, knowing that for now atleast, the danger had passed. A lone infected fifty metres away didnt pose toomuch of a threat to me. Their vision wasn't good and nor was their sense ofsmell, unlike the stalkers. If that had been a stalker it would have seen me straightaway and it would have been leaping through the trees, pouncing on me before Icould even reach for my knife.

I shuddered at thethought. I pulled my hood further over my head and walked on through the wetwoods, and after a while I saw a wooden building. It looked like some kind ofstorage shed, small with a jagged tin roof and wooden panelled walls thatlooked like they would blow down in a gust. Not a place to wait out theapocalypse, but it would be good for tonight. I would get in there, put down mystuff and maybe even grab a few hours of much-needed sleep, because it had beengod knows how long since I had last got some of that. There was something alittle more reassuring about putting your back against a solid wall than thetrunk of a tree.

As well as getting somesleep, I could even live a little and risk cooking something. My mouth startedto water at the prospect of eating for the first time in hours. I didn't havemuch on me - probably just some tins of beans and sachets of soup - but itwould taste like a kings feast, and man was my stomach aching for it.

I got closer to the shack,and my heart sank.

Through a small frostedglass window I could see a dim light flickering. I couldn't make out anythingelse inside, but light meant people, and that meant I couldnt stay there. Iturned and started to walk away from the shack, my stomach reeling from theprospect of food that had just been snatched from me. My legs felt a hundredtimes heavier and the pack on my back, filled only with my meagre possessions,felt like a boulder. If I didnt find somewhere soon, I was going to drop.

Behind me a door opened.I span round, reached to my belt and in one smooth motion slipped my knife intomy hand and held it ready to strike.

"Whoa. You won't beneeding that tonight."

A man stood in thedoorframe. He was tall, bald and a wild beard sprouted from his chin. He wore abaggy white t-shirt covered in red food stains, and jeans that were splatteredin patches of mud. His fly was unzipped, and on his feet he wore unfastenedboots. I got the feeling he hadnt expected company outside the shack. He tooka step toward me.

"Evening." Isaid, and looked away. I turned and started to walk in the opposite direction,having no interest in conversation.

Behind me boots crunchedon the forest floor.

"Gimme a minute,stranger."

I turned round. He had anamused smile on his face.

"Needsomething?" I said.

The man looked aroundhim. The forest seemed denser in the dark. "Where you goin this time ofnight?"

"Don't worry aboutit."

He took another steptoward me. "Do me a favour?"

I took a deep breath. Iwasn't big on favours. "What?"

He grinned. "I got acall of nature. I know, I know - worst time for it, eh?"

"Why not take a pissin there?" I said, nodding at the shack.

"We got a bucket,but I don't like using it. Something about the sound the spray makes on themetal. It dont seem right to do it indoors."

I tightened my fist. Itook a deep breath and tried to keep my irritation under control. "So what,you need me to hold it for you or something?"

He laughed. "Nah.Just keep a look out. Make sure one of them bitey bastards doesn't take a chunkout of my arse."

I was done with this. Ididn't feel any threat from the man but there was no way was I letting my guarddown around him, and nor did I have the time to stand around while he took apiss. The sky was pitch black and it wouldn't be long until the stalkers wereprowling. I had to have shelter before then, or I was done for.

I heard a spurt of liquidhit a tree behind me. "It's getting late," said the man, as hereleased his bladder. "And towns an hour away. Say, I don't rememberseeing you there before."

"That's because Idon't live there."

"Really?" Hisvoice seemed incredulous at the thought that someone might not be from town,that someone might spurn the safety of its walls. "At any rate, you'regonna need to get yourself under a roof." The stream of urine stopped andhe zipped up his pants. He motioned behind him to the shack. "It's not theHilton, but you're welcome to stay for the night. We're seeing it out untilmorning then heading back."

Part of me was alreadywalking over there and setting down my bag. I wanted to get in the shack, takemy boots off and sink to the floor, and I would have done anything to fill mybelly with beans and then sleep for a week. I looked at the man again. Heseemed genuine enough, but the bad ones always did. Everyone seemed honest, atfirst.

The only people youcould count on to show you their intentions were those who didnt care to hidetheir bad ones.