Dead Soil (Book 2): Dead Road Read online

  ISBN: 978-0-578-54711-4

  Text Copyright © 2019 by Alex Apostol

  www.writeralexapostol.com

  Cover Design Copyright © 2019 by Alex Apostol

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Look for Alex Apostol on:

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/AlexApostol87

  Twitter: @AlexApostol87

  Instagram: @writer_alex_apostol

  Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/writer_alex_apostol

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, July 2019

  Also by Alex Apostol

  The Chronicles of a Supernatural Huntsman Series

  Broken Angel (Book 1)

  Earth Angel (Book 2)

  Hunted Angel (Book 3)

  Rebel Angel (Book 4) Coming Soon

  Part 1: Containing Books 1-3

  Dead Soil Series

  Dead Soil (Book 1)

  Dead Road (Book 2)

  Dead World (Book 3) Coming Soon

  Dead Beginnings Novella Series

  (From the Dead Soil World)

  Volume 1: Lonnie Lands

  Volume 2: Lee Hickey

  Vol 3: Olivia Darling Coming soon

  Zooey Zombie Novella Series

  It’s an Undead Thing (Book 1)

  So Over the Undead (Book 2) Coming Soon

  Standalone Fiction

  Girls Like Us

  Non-Fiction

  Novel Notes: A Guided Writing Journal

  Novel Notes: Series Edition

  This Is Me: A Guided Journal to Self-Discovery

  Intentional: A Daily Christian Journal

  My Writing Journal

  My Riding Journal: Recorded Memories and Lessons

  Warrior Princess: Claiming Your Identity in Christ Coming Soon

  Part One

  “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”

  -Bilbo Baggins

  in The Lord of the Rings trilogy

  by J.R.R. Tolkien

  I

  “You’re not really here,” Christine Moore said in a hushed voice. “You’re not real.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I saw you…I killed…you died.”

  “Does that mean everything about me ceases to exist? My being, my knowledge, my soul?”

  Christine let her eyes drop to her hands in her lap as she sat perfectly still on the edge of the bed. She wanted to give him the answers he sought. After all, she still loved him. Death would never change that. But she couldn’t find the words. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders and wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  “Only you know why I’m here, love,” he responded.

  Finally, she forced her blue eyes to meet his. “I didn’t ask for this, Liam. You showed up at my bedside just days after I shoved that knife into your temple. I just wanted to spare you the empty life of being one of those things!” She realized she had raised her voice and immediately snapped her lips shut tight. When she opened them again she barely spoke above a whisper. “You’re just a grief-stricken hallucination. I’m seeing things because my brain can’t handle the shock of your death and of the state of the world. I’m only seeing you, talking to you,” she placed her hand on top of his, “…touching you, because I’m scared. You’re my comfort. You always were.”

  Liam’s hazel eyes softened as Christine took in every detail of his face. A part of her was terrified by the fact that she’d been seeing her dead fiancé for the last four months, while another part was thankful. She took every opportunity to impress his being into her brain, worried that every time he came to see her would be the last time.

  “I miss you so much,” she said softly as she leaned into him.

  He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close. “I know, love. I miss you, too. But someday we will be together again.”

  A chill ran through Christine’s body, raising the hairs on her arms. She didn’t want to think about it, about any of it. She didn’t want to consider the fact that she was going crazy, that she had to kill to survive, or that her days were limited. Everyone’s were. There was no guarantee any of the people sleeping in the next room would live to see the snow melt and the flowers bloom, or even see the next sunrise. Every day, more and more zombies found their way into their gated apartment complex. One day, they would figure out stairs and come banging on their door. Their chance to leave would be gone forever.

  Christine sat up and eyed the brown leather journal sitting on her nightstand.

  “You thought this journal was important for a reason, didn’t you?” she asked Liam.

  He nodded his head once in agreement.

  “You knew that it could hold the key to a cure?”

  Again he nodded once and released his soft grip from her shoulder.

  “Then, we need to get it into the right hands. We’ve waited too long already here in this tiny apartment. We should have left months ago. This could have been taken care of already.”

  Christine looked over, but found that she was now sitting alone. There was a small indentation in the duvet where Liam had been. She put her hand down and felt that it was cold, as if he hadn’t been there at all. She threw herself back onto the bed and sprawled out, stretching her arms high above her head.

  “This is bull,” she said with no concern if anyone in the other room heard her talking to herself.

  She curled up into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest, taking in the comfort and warmth of the bed. She tugged at Liam’s oversized knitted sweater and wrapped it tightly around her thin body, blanketing herself in familiarity and lost love.

  “Need to leave,” she mumbled to herself as she fought to keep her eyes open. “Need to go now…”

  Her long, wavy blonde hair fell over her face, veiling her from the moonlight streaming in through the window. Her breathing slowed, heavy and deep. The mumbling stopped as her eyes finally shut.

  II

  Darkness encompassed the living room outside Christine’s bedroom door. Black lumps littered the floor and couch, the group attempting to get some sleep. There wasn’t much else to do once the sun went down. Electricity was long gone and the candle supply was dwindling. The fireplace was the main source of light and warmth as they waited out winter.

  As Christine’s voice died out behind the thin white door to her room, whispers erupted throughout the darkness.

  “Who do you think she talks to all the time?” Olivia Darling asked idly as she clutched her weathered softball bat in her hands, cradling it like a newborn baby.

  “Don’t worry about it. Go to bed,” a gruff voice barked in annoyance. Zack Kran rolled over in his sleeping bag and threw his arm over his eyes.

  “But what if she’s dangerous?” Carolyn Bock asked from the long window seat where she sat curled up, covering herself in her white down jacket.

  “She’s not dangerous,” Gretchen shot back in defense. “She’s confused, and she’s in pain. She lost the love of her life.” Hurt and anger seethed behind the break in her voice.

  “How would you know?” Rowan Brady asked. “You haven’t seen her in a decade before we found her here, and she hasn’t said more than two words to you in the months since.”

  There was a heavy silence as Gretchen stared up at the blackness hanging below the ceili
ng. Tears collected in the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t allow them to spill over and roll down her cheeks.

  “Stuff it, pretty boy,” Gale Lewis huffed as she rolled away from the others to face the back of the couch. “We’re not here to form a witch hunt. If the girl wants to talk to herself for comfort, there’s nothing wrong with that. Leave it be.”

  Rowan rolled his large brown eyes, but no one saw. His mouth stayed shut, although there were many things he would have liked to say. He knew if he spoke again Zack would rise up and tower over him, his battle sword in hand.

  “What if she’s talking to a ghost, though?” Olivia chimed in again with a hint of laughter in her teenage voice.

  “This is stupid,” Gretchen burst out as she stepped toward the door. “I’m just going to check on her.”

  Before she could reach the handle Zack moved into her path. “Why don’t you let me do it?”

  Gretchen’s eyes narrowed as she glared up at him. “Why? I’m her sister. I should do it.”

  Zack didn’t say anything. He simply looked down at her with a softness to his dark eyes.

  The hard lines on Gretchen’s forehead melted away to reveal the pain she carried beneath. “Will she ever forgive me for leaving her? That was so long ago…” she whispered, wanting to place her head on Zack’s chest for comfort. Instead, she stayed put and wrapped her own arms around her thinning waist.

  Zack reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, but hesitated just as his fingers were about to graze her leather jacket. He turned and let himself into Christine’s room without knocking.

  The bedroom was lit up silver from the full moon shining through her window. He stopped in the doorway with his hand still on the knob, staring at Christine curled up like a cat on the bed. The covers were thrown to the bottom, as if she intended to climb in and cover up, but something distracted her. Someone distracted her. He shut the door without a sound. Slowly, he walked over to stand between the window and the side of her bed. His large shadow fell onto her twisted form.

  He reached out and pulled the heavy comforter over her shoulders so only her porcelain face was uncovered. She gave a small moan and shifted herself further into the blanket, a hint of a smile on her blushed lips. Zack had only wanted to check on her, make sure she wasn’t huddled up against the headboard crying as he’d found her so many nights before when she thought everyone was asleep. But as he stared, he found he couldn’t turn away. She looked so peaceful. It was such a rare moment of comfort in a world so harsh and cruel. It was the most beautiful thing he’d seen since Anita smiled at him from across the snow fallen forest.

  A loud bang resounded in his head and he saw Anita fall, scarlet blood seeping through her chest and soaking her dirtied clothing. He blinked away the memories and headed for the door again. Christine wasn’t the only one who felt the sting of loss. There wasn’t a night Zack didn’t see Anita’s pained face as her life left her. He could still feel the weight of her in his arms when he dreamed. If Christine needed to think she was talking to Liam to get through the day, then there was nothing wrong with that. Zack often left the waking world just to see Anita in his dreams.

  His thoughts turned to the others and their discussion. It didn’t come up often, but every once in a while someone would voice their concern for Christine’s sanity and what it meant for them. But Zack always stood up for her. No matter what it took, he would never allow anything to happen to Christine. He owed his best friend that much.

  A fire still burnt in his chest every time he thought of the night Liam was bit. He should have been there. If he hadn’t left, Liam might still be alive. Christine never said it, but he could see the thought behind her glassy eyes on especially hard nights when they would sit together in silence. She was the closest thing Zack had to family now and he would protect her no matter the cost.

  When he slipped between the ends of his sleeping bag most nights and zipped himself in tight, no one said a word as he closed his eyes and tried to shut out the endless chatter that ran through his mind. No one would say anything, but he could feel their gaze on him, questioning him, judging him, wavering in their loyalty to him and their cause.

  If he had to go to Chicago to deliver the journal on his own, then that’s what he would have to do. It had to be done, help or no help. Someone had to save the world. Why not him?

  Instead of going back out to his thin sleeping bag on the floor of the cold living room, he sat down on the bedroom floor with his back against the wall, looking off into the darkness. He let out a sigh as he looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes.

  “Zack?” a small voice whispered.

  He tried his best to ignore it, not even sure that he had actually heard anything at all.

  “Zack, are you awake?”

  This time his eyes sprang open.

  III

  Christine’s face hovered in front of Zack’s. He hadn’t expected her to wake up at all. She’d had a trying day and he knew she was emotionally exhausted. That was most of her days lately.

  “Yeah, Chris?” He heard the rustling of layers of blankets on the bed as she sat back down.

  “Is it ever going to get easier?”

  Silence overtook the room. Zack knew he had to approach this the right way. Christine was in a fragile state. One mention of Liam in the wrong way and the bond they shared could be broken forever, or at least that’s how dire he felt the situation was.

  “It will…it just takes time…it’s only been three months,” he said slowly, cautiously.

  Now it was Christine’s turn to sigh into the darkness. “Three and a half months. And I knew I wouldn’t feel better by now. But I’m scared I won’t ever feel better.”

  It was something that haunted Zack’s mind before he went to sleep every night. Losing his best friend and the potential love of his life in one day had been beyond devastating, but he kept going. He trudged forward, went out to scavenge for food with the others, cleared out the zombies from the building and surrounding buildings. He contributed. He continued to live even though every day he wanted to hide under the covers and replay the moments he spent with Anita over and over again in his head.

  “I’m worried about you, Chris,” Zack said in a low voice, hoping it wouldn’t carry out to the others.

  Christine sat up in bed, legs crossed, and leaned forward in Zack’s direction, waiting for his explanation.

  “You hold up in your room most days, never coming out to see anyone else. Even if you didn’t say anything, just showing your face would ease everyone’s worry over you.” His voice started to grow in volume and tension.

  With a breath, he checked himself and continued on. It was a conversation that was long overdue. It needed to happen. Christine needed a reality check. Maybe it would be the thing to snap her out of her downward spiral.

  “When you do leave the room, you go straight to the patio with Liam’s bow to practice for hours.”

  “It’s all I have left of him!” Christine said defensively as she sprung up from the bed.

  Zack was on his feet before his friend could take a step.

  “I lost the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with! He wasn’t just some person I saw a few times and fantasized about, Zack! You have no idea what I’m going through!” Tears welled up in her eyes. Her hands shook as they flew wildly around. “You have no idea what Liam meant to me or what I meant to him! You—“

  But before she could get the last words out, Zack wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. He smelled of sweat and outdoors. His large arms hugged her to his chest.

  Her tears flowed freely. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into his shirt. “I didn’t mean it. I just—“

  “I know,” he said. “You don’t have to explain.”

  The slow, steadiness of his breath calmed her down enough to stifle her sobbing. She pulled away slightly, sniffling, and looked up into Zack’s bearded face.

&nbs
p; “You’re the only friend I have.” Her lips pulled slightly at the corners, though it looked as if even this small act of happiness pained her.

  Zack bent down and laid his lips on her forehead where her blonde hair met her fair skin and kissed. “I know. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She pulled away completely now and wiped the wetness from under her big, blue eyes. “Well, that’s not entirely true.”

  Zack cocked his head to the side in a way that reminded Christine of a confused puppy. It almost made her want to smile. Almost.

  “We still have to go to Chicago.”

  Zack turned and peered out the window at the surrounding woods below. The moon shone off the bare branches of the trees, not quite penetrating all the way to the black ground below. He scratched his thick, brown hair and turned back to his friend. “I don’t know…It’s still pretty cold outside for a long trip and not everyone in the group is where I would like them to be fighting-wise.”

  Christine rolled her eyes and turned him around by the shoulder aggressively. “It’s been forty degrees outside for a week now. The snow is all melted. It would be Spring Break in the sane world for God’s sake!”

  Zack huffed out a small chuckle as his eyes drifted to the ground in thought.

  “It’s time, Zack. We need to do this…for Liam…for everyone.”

  Zack’s head rose slowly, his brown eyes focused on Christine’s delicate though determined features. He pursed his lips together and nodded his head.

  “Okay,” he said so softly it was almost a whisper, “for Liam.”

  IV

  The apartment was quiet, almost peaceful, cloaked in the thick blackness of the dead of night. Small deep breaths could be heard from the bodies curled up on the couch and floor, if anyone was awake to hear them. Inside the bedroom, Christine fell asleep sitting up on the bed, her head leaned on Zack’s shoulder for support as he stared at the white wall across from him.