Zombie Apocalypse Outfit Novels & Stories

" I turned and walked away without another glance. Back in the office, I pointed out the window at the world now buried under frost and the bodies frozen solid like statues. "Take a good look. The world’s changed. This is our fortress now. If you want to survive, follow my lead." Rhys nodded immediately. "Got it." Garrick followed, nodding hard. I didn’t take them to open packages. Instead, I headed to the break room and dragged out everything edible I could find, laying it all on the table: half a box of instant noodles, a few bottles of water, an opened bag of crackers, and a couple of shriveled apples.

‎ ‎An hour later, we stood by the camp exit. ‎ ‎We looked... different. ‎ ‎Rhea had raided the "Human Donations" bin, clothes scavenged from the city dumpsters or stolen from clotheslines. ‎ ‎Kaelen wore dark jeans and a black hoodie that hid his face. Vexa wore a long trench coat to conceal her sling and her weapons. Jinx looked like a normal, scruffy street kid in a beanie cap. ‎ ‎And I wore a simple black dress and boots, my hair loose to cover the Mating Mark on my neck.

Damn flu. I feel like something that dropped straight out of Doom’s ass. Which, unfortunately, I’m very familiar with — I’m the one who cleans his sandbox. It’s nasty. A crime scene with a purpose. The mirror is brutally honest. This bug has not been kind. My hair is a greasy disaster, twisted into a bird’s nest on top of my head. My eyes are dull, ringed with dark half-moons like I’ve been auditioning for Undead Extra #3. My skin is pale — borderline translucent — and the dirty shirt … his dirty shirt … hangs off me like a sack of regret. I’ve lost a good six pounds, and right now I look exactly how I feel — like a zombie — hollow, mindless, and dead inside.

My eyes finally close, and I slipped into a fitful sleep, complete with nightmarish creatures, fire, and dying people. In the morning, I dressed for the day in my special town outfit. It consists of a black, long sleeved thermal shirt, which I carefully tuck into blue jeans and black combat boots. Next, I pull on a turtleneck shirt and top it off with a sweater. After that, I pull on some white golfer's gloves that I lifted from a sports shop. Then, I tied back my long, midnight brown hair into a ponytail, and pull on a headband to keep my bangs out of my eyes. The final touch is a pair of black sunglasses to protect my eyes from any blood spatter from the zombies I might have to kill.

"Look around ma'am we're surrounded by dangerous monsters and you're asking of my name? wait, do you gave a crush on me?" "What!" Mrs Collins doesn't know when she screamed out "crush on you? Common I won't go that low! just look at what you're wearing, a dirty brown monkey jacket and black joggers with your hunter boot shoe and you think I will crush on someone like you? never! wake up if you're dreaming!!" "You define me that means you like me for observing my dressing but anyways call me handsome that's my name, handsome" Mrs Collins feel uncomfortable around Handsome while having this conversation the zombies started banging their van and growling around it. Mrs Collins was so scared tha

I muttered. She crossed her little arms, hovering with an expression that screamed judgmental mall clerk. “And who might you be, stomping through my forest in… those rags?” Excuse me? Those rags? I looked down at myself. Sure, I was covered in dirt, blood, and probably tree sap, but still. My jeans were functional. My jacket was sensible. “You mean my post-apocalyptic forest chic?” I said, squinting up at her. “This is called survival fashion, sweetie. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Comes with pockets and trauma.”

I feel a knot of unease form in my stomach. “Oh, but I think you might know him,” Zombie says, turning toward a sleek black car parked across the street. I hadn’t noticed it until now. He waves, and a man in his thirties steps out… he seems a stark contrast to our chaotic underworld. Dressed in a tailored suit and tie, he looks utterly out of place, as if he has wandered into a world of shadows.

It was almost like a zombie apocalypses type of infested. The majority of these rogues were still in their human forms, trashing and destroying stores and streets, having their own riot party as they drank heavy amounts of booze and smoking. They all looked like they were a gang of bikers from the way they were dressed, all in black with leather jackets, some with exaggerated haircuts. "They're everywhere, how are we going to sneak past?" Alice whispers.

It led to a connected room; a storage room, filled with employee equipment. "Nice one. Let's find some comfier clothes." Brie patted her head like a proud mother. In a way, she was. Melissa had grown on her. After a few minutes of searching, Melissa found the smallest size of clothing they had. They had small, white t-shirts, green cargo pants and boots. Brie managed to grab a bigger size for Adam and herself, raising her eyebrows.

The good news was that it appeared to be on its own. It looked how you would imagine a zombie to look. Flesh hung off it in stringy clumps. In some places the skin was stretched so thin, holes had appeared showing the bones beneath. On the right side of its face, the jawbone and teeth were completely exposed. The nose was completely missing and it had no eyelids, making its eyes bulge in their sockets. Patchy hair sprouted from the top of its head. It was, however, quite smartly dressed. Buttons all done up and clothes nicely matching. The zombie stopped when it saw us and looked around, awkwardly moving its neck from side to side.