Realistic Post Apocalyptic Books Novels & Stories

I didn’t expect the patch to come so soon. In the second month after the battle, the rooftop radio suddenly crackled to life with a crisp broadcast voice. "The Atlas Geothermal Initiative is now active. Surface temperatures will gradually recover. Rescue is on the way." Rhys and I just stared at each other. So this wasn’t a solo survival game after all. It was online, and the admins had finally logged in. A week later, a military helicopter landed in the open lot. Registration and verification went quickly. The officer in charge clapped me on the shoulder. "Turning the apocalypse into a warehouse operation! You’re one of a kind."

Dozens of glowing level-one and level-two zombie cores tore free from the mangled corpses, flying through the air in a glittering stream straight into her storage space. Once the battlefield was picked clean, she expanded her pocket dimension further. In an instant, she drew the pristine Beast, Briggs, Jake, Julian, Jolie, and Kailee directly into her storage space, leaving the blood-soaked highway entirely empty. The eerie silence of the post-apocalyptic winter settled back over the underpass, the frozen wind whistling through the empty concrete pillars. "Let's take a break," Joanna muttered to herself as she stepped into the safe haven of her domain to join her crew, vanishing completely f

And then everything went dark. Present Day I’m lying down. Awake, but unwilling to move. I know I can’t stay in one place for long. Today’s refuge is an abandoned, water-damaged house, where the makeshift bed of cardboard and filthy pillows is at least dry. You’d think that a year after the apocalypse, people would have adapted. Nope. They just became worse. Men rule the world now. Most women were taken—by the demons of hell, as the survivors call them. The destroyers of our world.

CHAPTER ELEVEN My blood ran cold. I knew that ability. Authority of Dominion. In my previous life, it had belonged to Julius Everton. It was one of the abilities that made him terrifying after the apocalypse. He could force weaker creatures to obey him, suppress their instincts, and eventually control monsters that should have been impossible for a human to command. But he shouldn't have it yet. Not today. Not on the first day. Julius looked at his glowing hand with fascination. The Gold-Hoarder Golem remained motionless in front of him.

At night, I could hear men wailing, women screaming, and children crying without end. As expected, the most terrifying thing in the apocalypse was still humanity. Weeks passed, and most people had completely run out of supplies. A group of people banded together to head out in search of food and supplies. However, they got into a bloody fight over a bottle of water. Meanwhile, another group of people gave in to their darker impulses and began robbing other households and killing people for supplies.

Aphrodite hovered nearby, barefoot despite the falling debris, her body luminous, lips painted like the fires above, hair drifting in the currents like it obeyed a gravity all its own. “You should’ve stayed dead,” Vaethea hissed, dodging a wave of molten light that liquefied a drone midair. Sparks showered like raindrops on cracked asphalt. “And you should’ve stayed kind,” Aphrodite replied softly, cruelly, flicking her fingers and watching a whole office tower crumble into granular dust that scattered like sand in the wind. The streets below were a chaos of collapse. Civilians ran, some trapped beneath overturned vehicles, others screaming into digital voids as their comms failed, signals l

Some doors still hung open. Others had blood smeared across them. No military. No police. No rescue convoys. Only silence, which was broken occasionally by distant sirens echoing through the valley below. The apocalypse had moved beyond panic. Now came the collapse. Evelyn stepped over scattered belongings near the edge of the motel lot while Rowan crouched briefly beside an abandoned SUV. “Tank’s empty,” he muttered. Of course it was. Fuel had already become survival. The electronic tone rang softly through Evelyn’s skull.

And he had to do it now, before Kevin and his Superior Fitness Mutants destroyed all hope, and he would see it all, as he pulled out the Indomie Global Recipe Book, searching for the recipe that would slap the face of Kevin’s propaganda and transform the Stalker Zombies into secret agents of balanced nutrition. A crazy idea that would shake the foundations of Kevin’s power and restore sanity to this post-apocalyptic world!" Bima finished the sentence in his head, his eyes scanning the pages of the Indomie Global Recipe Book, which somehow felt heavier in his hands.

Damn it, this wasn't an action movie. I growled at something very rude, fasted my M19 harder, and sprinted down the sidewalk on this side of the street. I never let our prey out of my sight for a moment. It was almost like a slalom. Again and again I had to avoid people and then I almost ran into a shelter. There was room for a handful of people in these small buildings. If you had to get to safety from a prole, you could run in there, seal the room and call the venators from inside via an emergency column.

It’s about noon and Zane is walking down a highway littered with decaying cars. As he approached a nearby city, most of the cars had cracked or broken windshields. Sometimes he saw the odd humvee or a tank, they made great shelters for nighttime. This is the western apocalypse and it has been hell. He is about 5 '7 with long blonde hair blowing in the wind, a sturdy build, blue eyes with a narrow face, He wears a trench coat to stay warm and has a backpack of limited supplies. He travels alone mostly, at the start he traveled in groups of survivors of twenty to thirty people but they all succumbed to becoming food of the Pales.