Post-apocalyptic Novels & Stories

#2 BOOK: THE TRAIN TO THE END OF THE WORLD *** BOOK BLURB Daniel only wanted to spend a quiet evening with his ten-year-old daughter, Mia. Their marriage was falling apart, and he had no idea how to explain to her that her mother might never come home. But before they could finish watching Train to Busan, an accident changed everything. Daniel and Mia woke up inside the world of the movie. Now, trapped aboard a speeding train crawling with bloodthirsty infected, Daniel must fight to keep his daughter alive. He knows nothing about the outbreak, has no idea who can be trusted, and every stop brings them closer to death.

[Please specify the query. "The countdown. Thirty days to twenty-six. What did I do?" The blue panel brightened, and for the first time since it had woken up, the voice sounded almost patient. [The Apocalypse is a chain of events. The Host has altered several of them. Disrupting a fraud, relocating funds, and mass-purchasing supplies have changed the behavior of connected individuals. These changes have caused the first event to move forward.] "That's insane. I bought rice, not a bomb."

My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit as the realization hit me. They hadn't sent this hit squad to kill me in my apartment. The apartment was just a distraction to pull me away. My industrial storage unit. The place where I had stored forty five thousand dollars' worth of survival gear, composite armor, water filtration systems, and non-perishable rations, everything I needed for the apocalypse, was currently unguarded. I looked up at Maya, then out the shattered window into the dark city sky. The real war had just begun.

Pudding the puppy had insisted on coming, and was riding on the cart, announcing every pebble in the road to anyone who would listen. It was Day 86. For two days, I had not been able to stop thinking about the vial. In my book, the rivers had turned black on Day 60, and the wells had gone bitter on Day 45, and the sea had begun to rise on Day 10. I had a calendar in my head, tidy and inevitable. Now the calendar was wrong. Whoever had changed it had not left me a note. I had made a decision. I could not afford to be wrong about the plot, so I would stop relying on it. I would prepare for the worst. Whatever happened, I wanted four things: a high, dry place, a source of water, a stockpile, an

Torrential rain, tsunamis, toxic fog, extreme heat, extreme cold, earthquakes, insect plagues... One natural disaster followed another as society slowly crumbled. Food grew scarce, cruelty spread, and morality faded. How could humanity survive? In her previous life, Hannah Young died because of her friends’ and relatives’ schemes. With a second chance at life, she used her storage space to stockpile supplies around the world and went on looting sprees! Shiploads of seafood, mountains of fruit and staple foods, an entire port’s worth of shipping containers, a whole lake’s worth of fresh water... She filled her storage space to capacity again and again! Huh? Was there something unusual about h

Then, a notification appeared. SYSTEM ACTIVATED [Welcome, Host!] [Apocalypse Countdown: 59 Days.] [Storage: 0/100.] [Survival Points: 0.] [Physical Condition: Normal.] [Skills: None.] [Shelter: None.]

Trust. Trust in me. “More food is already on the way.” I announced. “The women and children remain safe in the northern shelter. We will rebuild what was lost.” Murmurs spread through the crowd. I drew a slow breath. “Listen to me. this attack will not be the last. there are powerful people who do not want this camp to exist. They will try again.”

She had begun to turn into them. “No, no, I can't be one of them. No, I don't want to.” She cried, thinking back to before this apocalypse began. Back to when things were okay. Her family was still alive. Except they had died years back before the apocalypse even began. She was just a lonely girl, who met Ryan and fell in love. Barely conscious and close to turning, Ara dragged herself toward the toxic river near the edge of the city. The black water churned violently below, filled with chemical waste, rotting corpses, blood, and dangerous liquids dumped there after the apocalypse began.

I stood near the shattered glass of the staging bay, my knuckles raw, my hands covered in gunpowder and dried blood. Phina walked up beside me, a white bandage taped over her cut cheekbone. She stared silently out at the smoking, ruined courtyard, her face drawn, pale, and unyielding. I turned my head and looked at her. The storm was over. The flood had receded. But as the smoke drifted quietly into the cold morning air, we both knew the truth. The apocalypse had officially changed from survival to war.

His mother looked at him without answering immediately. He studied her face, trying to understand what she was suggesting. “Are you talking about killing people? Or something even worse?” A strange smile slowly spread across the old woman’s face. “This is the apocalypse, Daniel. It’s the end of the world. Nobody could care less if someone lived or died. So there’s no need to feel guilty.” She smirked maniacally. “Besides, I already have someone in mind.” She added. By now, the other two didn’t seem reluctant about this whole plan. They’ve seen a lot of violence in this apocalypse.