This Summer Is The Apocalypse Novels & Stories

Then he stood, leaned toward the microphone clipped to his lapel, and said one line. That single line traveled through the control board, through twenty-three million live streams, down the hallway, past the control room, past the partition wall, past that concrete door we'd broken open with three hammer strikes — and into the bunker. A bunker with no one left in it. "Ouroboros, Season 7 — that's a wrap." On the big screen, all eight snake logos went dark at once. The comment feed started its final surge. Not typed words. The same template, repeated who knows how many times — "Seven years."

I was glaring at Cole through narrowed eyes. “Can you not talk to me about the pros of doing this?” I muttered, exhausted by agonizing about the idea. Cole stood from the desk and came to squat in front of me. “We are living in the apocalypse, Lucia. This is hell on Earth and we do not know when we are going to die. We have to use every weapon in our arsenal.” “They are just kids…” “And you were just a kid when you were made the leader of your city–” I threw my hands up like he had just made my point. “Look how that fucked me up.”

Yet somehow… my mind still drifted toward a stubborn eighteen-year-old girl with pink bandages and reckless eyes. Ava. Even after three days away from her, she still found a way into my thoughts like she belonged there. And that was the real problem. I exhaled sharply and grabbed the whiskey bottle from the table, pouring another glass. Outside, Pasadena glittered beneath the night sky. Beautiful. But inside the hotel suite, I already knew the truth. This summer was becoming dangerous in ways I never expected.

Jane was the first to react, cursing at me, “You bitch, what nonsense are you spouting—an ability? Go die!” David immediately turned to Victor with forced respect. “Mr. Kane, my nephew has a fever. He’s probably about to awaken an ability too. Please kill Apple and avenge my son! Our whole family will follow you to the death and do whatever you command!” “I can die right now.” I looked Victor straight in the eye. “No one knows how many years this apocalypse will last. But I can promise you this—you won’t find anyone else who can give you clean water as quickly as I can.”

I heard a mutated beast swallowed him during a supply raid before he could even seek revenge. Five years later, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the thick clouds and shone upon the earth, an excited voice blared over the loudspeaker. "Attention survivors! The National Academy of Sciences has successfully developed a serum to kill the zombie virus! The apocalypse is over! We have won!" Cheers erupted from the base. I stood on the city wall, watching the sun slowly rise in the distance. My parents, still full of energy, stood beside me. Dad patted my shoulder, saying with a grin, "Sweetie, how about we have a feast to celebrate tonight?"

I had underestimated just how shameless they were. She continued, "Each of them is built like a tank. It's the end of the world. Why would they settle for taking orders from you? Even if you have all the money in the world, what does it matter?" It hit me all at once. Victoria was right. In the apocalypse, no one wanted to be under someone else. The man whose arm had been snapped on the first day cursed beside her. His resentment was obvious. "Stop wasting time talking to him. I say we break the door down right now. I'll cripple him myself and throw him out to the zombies."

In her last life, the zombie outbreak started on the 11th. The apocalypse would happen on August 11.

And you're enjoying air-conditioning! Daisy: Damn you! We're being roasted alive out here while you enjoy yourself inside, you unfilial monster! You'll get what's coming to you! Their rage and despair practically spilled through the screen. And that—was exactly what I wanted. I turned off my phone, tossed it aside, and leisurely began enjoying my first meal of the apocalypse. Yes. I had been reborn to the very moment when Denise and my so-called parents first proposed setting up a doomsday fund.