Romans & histoires Books About The Zombie Apocalypse

It had been a year since the apocalypse. A year after the nuclear disaster, it wasn't the plants or animals that mutated first—it was the virus. Less than ten percent of humanity escaped infection, and most of those unlucky few were picked off early, torn apart by zombies. Zombies had no brains or senses; they mindlessly attacked anything that moved. But my dad? He was different. The day the outbreak started, it was just another ordinary day for our family, working in our little grocery store. It was business as usual.

She patted her face to make herself more conscious. It's impossible. The eyes of the zombies are blood red, and their skin will quickly become old, dry, or decayed. The blood vessels under the skin will also turn green - of course, the blood vessels of the fourth generation of mutated zombies that have appeared in recent years are black, but no matter what, zombies cannot mutate to be the same as living people!

The infected weren’t the only threat anymore. That much had become clear over the past few weeks. It wasn’t just the shambling hordes of zombies that kept me awake at night, but the survivors—the desperate ones, the ones who had lost too much, the ones who saw others as nothing more than resources to take.

“You’re cool with a high school chick dusting vamps, but not zombies?” “Nope. Buffy is camp, Supernatural is more folklore and shit. Zombies eating brains and people doing horrible things to each other is a different ball game.” “True. It does explore how humans would handle the apocalypse and collapse of society. How it would bring out the different facets of people. Some good, most bad.” “Exactly. And the makeup is just icky.” I shuddered. “They don’t eat brains in the show. They just bite people, and they turn.”

"In the late stages of the apocalypse, anti-inflammatory medicine will be the hardest to find. We should stock up now. Later, a single pill could be worth a cow." Mom bought a large supply of medicine from dealers—anti-inflammatories, cold and flu remedies, painkillers, antibiotics, bandages, disinfectants, thermometers, and more. I silently reviewed my chemistry formulas for the exam, paying no mind to the ridiculous stockpiling. Giselle reinforced the doors and windows and even installed solar panels on the balcony. Zombies later would chew through power lines, and the city would experience massive blackouts. Still, idiots would remain as idiots no matter how many times they were reborn.

All day, I hustled for cash and apologized, trailing Snowy and cleaning up whatever he wrecked. At twenty-three, fresh out of college, I'd been all ambition. I was gonna be somebody. Two years later? Bottom of the food chain. I felt like apologizing to the sewer rats. Still, the four of us stuck together. Survived every crappy day side by side. And now the apocalypse was coming. Zombies. Strong. Fast. Everywhere. One snap of their jaws and you were done. Sure, my cats could take down chickens, ducks, mice, rabbits. Feed them wolves, whatever. Didn't matter. They couldn't shield me from zombies.

The institute that had once been built upon collaboration slowly fractured under secrecy. Then disaster struck. History never recorded exactly what happened. The surviving documents disagreed. Some described an accident. Others hinted at sabotage. Several pages had been deliberately destroyed. Only the aftermath remained clear. One entire laboratory vanished. Hundreds of researchers died. The remaining survivors evacuated the facility. Project Crimson Hunger officially ended. Every surviving document was sealed. Every remaining sample was either destroyed or hidden. Zelios abandoned biomedical research almost overnight. The following decades changed the world forever. Environmental collapse

I knew better than to mention the words ‘zombies or apocalypse. If I told these hardened mobsters that the dead were going to rise and eat their faces in less than two weeks, they'd laugh me out of the room or tell me I belong in an asylum. They'll never take me seriously. Lucien knew it too—which was why he had simply told them we were preparing for an unprecedented war.

I walk through the crowd of people conversely to see the source of danger and my eyes almost bulges out. Zombies swarm across the hole from above the leaking ceiling of the base. Endlessly falling and tumbling to the ground chasing and biting people with their disgustingly sharp teeth..! Blood saturating the ground with rotten smells and tiny worms splattered around the base. "This is the apocalypse?!" I have never seen one before. This is the first. "Help..! Aaaaahh!" A rotting zombie takes hold of a child and is about to bite her. My hand trembles but I pick up my courage and...

EPISODE 3 I do not need much sleep, two hours at most, which I usually take when the sun is at its brightest. Sunlight does affect me, although it is not the mortal enemy Bram Stoker imagined in his tale of Count Dracula. I read the novel Dracula when it first came out, in ten minutes. I have a photographic memory with a hundred percent comprehension. I found the book delicious. Unknown to Mr. Stoker, he got to meet a real vampire when I paid him a visit one dreary English evening in the year 1899. I was very sweet to him. I asked him to autograph my book and gave him a big kiss before I left. I almost drank some of his blood, I was tempted, but I thought it would have ruined any chance he w