The Undead World (Book 1): The Apocalypse by Peter Meredith Page A
Authors: Peter Meredith
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back door, he had a shotgun pointed at Neil. “Is it just him? Did you check?”
She shook her head and pointed at the sink. “One cup. One dish. He's all alone and he's got some choice stuff. Look, hot cocoa.”
The man unslung a large empty duffel bag from his back and started taking Neil 's food, pulling down the neatly stacked cans in a rush. “What about his car?”
The girl shrugged. “He looks like a Prius-fag.” When Neil dropped his eyes she laughed. “I can pick em. And no guns either, but don't worry, Mister we won't take your stick.”
“ Are you going to leave me any food?” Neil asked.
“ This can of asparagus,” the man said and tossed the can to Neil. “And this squash, blech.”
In the end they left him four cans total and when they slunk back out into the dangerous jungle that Jersey had become, Neil cried. He didn 't know how to live in the world anymore and with his food gone he didn't think he would make it for very long in his hermetically sealed house either. He cried because he was a fool and a coward, and he was lonely and so very depressed. Yet for all that, he cried for less than a minute and then, still sniffling and with damp eyes, he went back to his guest room and picking up his bowl, he watched as the pair worked their way down the street, looking for suckers to open their doors. The girl would go along acting all scared while the young man hung back in a big black truck that looked as though it could squish any zombie that got in its way.
They were out of sight before Neil asked a question that had been bothering him in the back of his mind: “Why wasn't the girl scared?” She was smaller even than Neil and her pistol wasn't some “Dirty Harry” piece of hand artillery, either. It was little enough to fit her small palm.
Then what was it that made her so fearless?
Why didn't the zombies scare her and how could she rob people so easily when she was just a kid? What made her so special? Was she special because she was so courageous? Or was she courageous because she was special?
Neil wiped his eyes and decided somewhat rashly to go outside, wondering if by acting brave he would be brave. He stepped boldly from his back door and then immediately hid back behind his rhododendrons. There was a pack of the zombies shuffling by , however they were going away from him and he fought the temptation to run inside.
After a few minutes they were far enough away that he was able to come out of his hiding place. Looking up and down the street, he felt suddenly strong over his tiny victory—not running away equated to a victory for poor Neil —and he went along the side of his house breathing deeply the autumn air.
“ Now what?” he asked aloud. A few zombies were out, pecking about, and he felt stronger still when he decided to turn his back on them and walk across to his neighbors the Krauthammer's. He hadn't heard anything from then for a couple of days and now he knew why. Their front door was open.
He glanced in, though when he heard something moving about he pulled back.
And then he heard a leaf crunch behind him and he spun and there was the little Cattau girl zombie. Neil made a noise and then began to run for his back door, but then something gripped him around his heart.
There wasn 't any future left in his house. His future had been stolen from him...yet what kind of future had it been? One of slinking around in perpetual fear? Neil Martin stopped running and turned, deciding to fight for the first time in his life.
It wasn 't much of a heroic battle. As small as he was, he was still twice the size of the zombie-girl, yet he was shocked when he stabbed her in the chest with his makeshift spear and she kept coming, sliding herself up the smooth wood of the broom handle.
In desperation he swung his end of the broom handle and with her weight suddenly shifting outward she slid off the stick and fell into the street. Next Neil tried to knock her upside the head with
She shook her head and pointed at the sink. “One cup. One dish. He's all alone and he's got some choice stuff. Look, hot cocoa.”
The man unslung a large empty duffel bag from his back and started taking Neil 's food, pulling down the neatly stacked cans in a rush. “What about his car?”
The girl shrugged. “He looks like a Prius-fag.” When Neil dropped his eyes she laughed. “I can pick em. And no guns either, but don't worry, Mister we won't take your stick.”
“ Are you going to leave me any food?” Neil asked.
“ This can of asparagus,” the man said and tossed the can to Neil. “And this squash, blech.”
In the end they left him four cans total and when they slunk back out into the dangerous jungle that Jersey had become, Neil cried. He didn 't know how to live in the world anymore and with his food gone he didn't think he would make it for very long in his hermetically sealed house either. He cried because he was a fool and a coward, and he was lonely and so very depressed. Yet for all that, he cried for less than a minute and then, still sniffling and with damp eyes, he went back to his guest room and picking up his bowl, he watched as the pair worked their way down the street, looking for suckers to open their doors. The girl would go along acting all scared while the young man hung back in a big black truck that looked as though it could squish any zombie that got in its way.
They were out of sight before Neil asked a question that had been bothering him in the back of his mind: “Why wasn't the girl scared?” She was smaller even than Neil and her pistol wasn't some “Dirty Harry” piece of hand artillery, either. It was little enough to fit her small palm.
Then what was it that made her so fearless?
Why didn't the zombies scare her and how could she rob people so easily when she was just a kid? What made her so special? Was she special because she was so courageous? Or was she courageous because she was special?
Neil wiped his eyes and decided somewhat rashly to go outside, wondering if by acting brave he would be brave. He stepped boldly from his back door and then immediately hid back behind his rhododendrons. There was a pack of the zombies shuffling by , however they were going away from him and he fought the temptation to run inside.
After a few minutes they were far enough away that he was able to come out of his hiding place. Looking up and down the street, he felt suddenly strong over his tiny victory—not running away equated to a victory for poor Neil —and he went along the side of his house breathing deeply the autumn air.
“ Now what?” he asked aloud. A few zombies were out, pecking about, and he felt stronger still when he decided to turn his back on them and walk across to his neighbors the Krauthammer's. He hadn't heard anything from then for a couple of days and now he knew why. Their front door was open.
He glanced in, though when he heard something moving about he pulled back.
And then he heard a leaf crunch behind him and he spun and there was the little Cattau girl zombie. Neil made a noise and then began to run for his back door, but then something gripped him around his heart.
There wasn 't any future left in his house. His future had been stolen from him...yet what kind of future had it been? One of slinking around in perpetual fear? Neil Martin stopped running and turned, deciding to fight for the first time in his life.
It wasn 't much of a heroic battle. As small as he was, he was still twice the size of the zombie-girl, yet he was shocked when he stabbed her in the chest with his makeshift spear and she kept coming, sliding herself up the smooth wood of the broom handle.
In desperation he swung his end of the broom handle and with her weight suddenly shifting outward she slid off the stick and fell into the street. Next Neil tried to knock her upside the head with
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