Post Apocalyptic Books For Adults Novels & Stories

Instead, he leaned back against a mahogany shelf, his casual sweater bunching at his shoulders. He looked at the stack of books on my desk, his eyes lingering on a tattered spine I had tucked at the bottom. "Wait, is that THE STAND?" he asked, pointing to the thick paperback. I looked down, my eyes landing on the book he was referring to. It was a survival horror story. Something about an alien invasion and humans getting wiped out one by one. "Oh. Yes. I’ve read it three times, but I find comfort in the end of the world sometimes. It makes my own feel... manageable."

“You’re welcome, but for what?” “Everything.” That, along with the deeper kiss he pressed to her lips, was answer enough. ****** Author’s Notes I love futuristic, post-apocalyptic, and/or dystopian fiction. I wouldn’t want to live it, of course, but it’s fun to imagine how bad things could get, and how good people would function in the aftermath. In this book, I also explored a bit how harsh times make even good people do some questionable things. Can you forgive a good character if he (or she) does something morally ambiguous for the ones they love? I like complex characters and questions like that. I hope I gave a modicum of competency to exploring the idea.

Over the next few weeks, she planned to make up for that. She had sworn off post-apocalyptic stories—they were all starting to feel too much the same—but her best friend had recommended one so she had decided to give it a try. She was glad she had. The book was proving to be a fast-paced read with lots of new and interesting twists. She found it easy to escape into the story, which was exactly what she wanted after the long, difficult semester.

I rubbed my forehead gently, feeling a little throbbing in my head that made me a little dizzy. I could barely tell if it was day or night as I gazed out the window. But each day was dragging me closer to the apocalypse. And as strong as I felt, even with better vision that I could see people walking from kilometres away, I didn't know if I was ready for it. If I was going to not only survive the apocalypse but also take in survivors who would have nowhere else to go. With a sigh, I was about to make my way downstairs when a crazy thought clicked in my head and my lips curled into a smile.

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But now the System was telling me that my knowledge was becoming unreliable. I closed the notification. I needed answers. The financial district had become a battlefield. Broken glass covered the streets. Cars were abandoned everywhere, and smoke rose from several buildings in the distance. People were running in every direction. The old world was disappearing faster than I remembered. I looked toward Julius. He was already walking away. I watched him until he disappeared into the crowd. In my previous life, Julius didn't awaken Authority of Dominion until much later. He had spent months building his strength before finally gaining control over monsters.

Every detail was accounted for, every system optimized for efficiency. In the afternoons, she focused on her mental health. She read books from the library, practicing her meditation and journaling about her experiences. She wrote about her past life, her death, and her rebirth. She wrote about Julian, Brenda, and Chloe—their betrayals, their cruelty, their ultimate downfall. She wrote about her plans for the future, the world she intended to build in the aftermath of the apocalypse. The journaling was cathartic, a way to process her emotions and maintain her sanity.

Three years into the apocalypse, my girlfriend, a captain of the Spark Sanctuary, kept me stuck living in the outer quarantine belt for 1,095 days. Every time I dragged my battered body to her with an entry pass in hand, she would put on a conflicted expression. "Shane, you're my boyfriend, so I have to avoid showing favoritism. These spots need to go to the families of fallen soldiers. Just wait a little longer. You don't have special abilities, so you're just regular muscle inside." I bought her excuses completely, turning right back around to risk my life fighting through swarms of infected. It wasn't until the day I accumulated my ninth entry pass, crawling back to find her while bur

“I prefer reading non-fiction in my free time. Most recently, I read Sapiens, by Yuval Noah Harari, which is a history of humans and their social structures. I intend to read the sequel, Homo Deus, next.” “Sounds enthralling,” Andre muttered, rolling his eyes for my benefit. “I assure you it was.” The bartender smoothly replaced the empty margarita pitcher with a fresh one, placing an empty glass in front of Roman. The Englishman nodded his head in thanks. “We read each other’s favorite books,” I explained. “Andre’s is Red Storm Rising.” “By that military tosser Tom Clancy?” Roman scoffed haughtily. “His books are overly stuffed with bollocks acronyms and officer jargon. It’s the rare case w

It was the smile of a predator who had finally been turned loose in a pen of defenseless sheep. This is what I love about post apocalypse the most: they no longer check your crime records. I adjusted my grip on my pack, feeling the familiar weight of the tools I had kept hidden beneath the mundane supplies. I wasn't just here to survive. I was here to thrive. The wall that kept the dead out also kept the living in, locked in a cage where the rules of civilization had evaporated, and where the only thing that mattered was not whether you were a good person, but whether you were still breathing.