Zombie Post Apocalyptic Books Novels & Stories

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.”

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.

This was all him, this was all the weird evil man baby. I stopped running and fell to the ground panting. My heart was beating like it was about to leave my chest and I had not noticed until now but I was the only one on the streets. it was completely deserted. Where did all the humans go? Did he kill them all? or were we in another world? his world. What even was he? or it?

They or we? The other party that threw our world into chaos was the self-proclaimed animal welfare organization Live for Animals. In an act of charity they broke into Doctor Christopher Krynick's research laboratory to bring the animals to safety. Unfortunately they had no idea what was going on and a well-meaning rescue operation turned into a global catastrophe. The proles first killed their rescuers and then escaped from the research facility to bring a plague of unprecedented proportions to the world. When a hand came to rest on my shoulder and slowly brushed the back of my neck, I tried to ignore the tingling sensation. "You can leave that nice. I'm still mad at you. "

Their eyes were empty, unfocused, and they were both wearing a strange, hollow smile. The rescue team leader stepped forward. "Mr. Sands? Mrs. Sands?" Dad suddenly clutched the tin of spam against his chest and shrank backward, his eyes wide. "Shh. Be quiet," he whispered, his voice shaking. "There are zombies out there. Going outside means death. "This is the last of our food. We have to ration it. We have to make it last." Mom nodded along beside him, completely serious. "One less mouth to feed. You'll get to live a few more days."

He froze in place and shallowed his breathing while he looked to see two more walking not far behind her. He was grateful that his leg had stopped bleeding heavily and that he’d gutted the deer so that the smell of its blood would overshadow the smell of his own. Even if it was only a small amount of blood oozing from him at that point, the breeze was blowing in their direction and he didn’t trust that the zombies wouldn’t have picked up on its scent, had the deer not been there. After all, they may look like a human, but their humanity was long gone. They were mindless, unmerciful predators who were driven by animal instinct.

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.

I’d been up all night studying both ancient and modern texts to help me to understand and possibly find a cure for zombism. After multiple lengthy conversations with my lover and fellow doctor, Peter, and my very good friend, Megan, - who was a wickedly knowledgeable witch and zombie hunter - I’d concluded that, like vampirism, zombism was caused by a virus. My belief was reinforced by the fact that Peter had secretly given me an inoculation to prevent zombism – in a very sly and naughty way, I might add - before he felt comfortable and confident enough to share the facts about the world I was living in with me. The inoculation consisted of a low dose of the vampire virus. It wasn’t enough

‎Of all the wretched, soul-scarring chores this new world had forced upon us, taking down the zombies was the worst. It wasn't just the danger; it was the profound, gut-churning disgust of it all. It was the most disgusting shit I’d ever done in my whole life, a phrase that felt woefully inadequate to describe the visceral horror. The act itself was a brutal, messy business. It wasn't like in the old movies, a clean shot to the head and a tidy collapse. It was a gruesome ballet of decay and resistance. The sickening, wet thud of the crowbar connecting with a skull that was more liquid than bone. The way they sometimes didn't just fall, but sort of… deflated, spilling their putrid contents on

“Heh. Bet he won’t ever hurt his pride.” Without looking back, Byul made his way on the street. The dirt road was filled with the evidence of massacre. There were lots of corpse lying on the ground and the rotten stench could be smelled even from a mile away. Ah this is it. The outbreak of the apocalypse. Byul lifted his head and inspected the place. Judging by the sight, this was a normal Zombie thriller movie. No mutation, no abilities, just pure hug-loving zombies. Although it was only his suspicion, Byul still felt that everything doesn’t add up.