Zombie Road Novels & Stories

He was at a car parked behind them, talking with a couple of guys. Bhoomika sensed something strange. Something wasn’t right. For a fleeting moment, she hoped that she wouldn’t have to regret the hasty decision she’d taken. As she watched on, the guys stepped out of the car, handed a stack of hard cash to the tall, handsome stranger and approached the vehicle she was in. Tears sprung to her eyes as she realized the horrifying truth: she was a fool to have trusted him. ***

“Long enough to get a new car.” “It doesn’t look very new,” I sarcastically remarked back at him. He didn’t respond, just stared ahead at the road. “So, how long until we get there?” “Another hour or so.” “How can you tell? Is there some kind of Werewolf ability for that?” “No, it’s just called a map. And, we're Shape Shifters.” “Oh,” I felt so stupid I just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide in a corner. But, instead, I pushed for answers. “What can you do?”

I lowered my gaze to the new studio contract on the table. The address was in the south of the city, by the river, a place where fog gathered more often than not. "I've paid my share too." … On opening day, Tristan came. He did not come inside. He only stood across the street, holding a paper bag. "Do you want to go over?" Wyatt asked. I shook my head. Not long after, the front desk brought up a package. Inside was the repaired fog lamp, and the line "Come home when the fog clears" on the base had been re-engraved.

Nate, why are you refusing? I kept walking toward the exit. "There's no reason. Find someone else. I'm not doing it." Julian grew agitated, running his hands through his hair as he followed after me. "The weather at Evermist Mountain has been getting worse every year. A few years ago, some drivers still dared to take the route, but none of them made it back alive. If you won't go there, nobody else will dare to either. "Nate, are you feeling sick? It's fine. I'll go with you. I'll handle the rescue work. You just focus on driving.

The world should end on a Monday. There’s something honest about that. Brutal, yes, but clean. A Monday already has the emotional texture of damp socks and unpaid bills, so adding zombies feels less like a cosmic betrayal and more like management escalating a complaint. Unfortunately, the world chooses Thursday at 6:17 p.m., while Maya Rodriguez is standing barefoot in her kitchen, trying to decide whether expired sour cream is a negotiable concept. “It smells fine,” Dex says from behind her.

"Why is it so loud this early..." His voice was cut off. On the screen back in the bunker, Julian's pupils widened. He froze as if someone had cast a curse on him. The once-bustling downtown streets had become a hellscape. Burning vehicle wrecks were everywhere. Torn flesh and innards littered the ground, and hundreds, maybe thousands, of bloodstained zombies staggered through the streets. One zombie lay sprawled on the hood of a sedan, greedily gnawing on a human leg.

Screams tore through the B2 level. Martha and I bolted for the stairs. Marcus stumbled behind. The smell of blood hit us like a wall. In the makeshift chapel, Sister Catherine was on her knees before the cross. A bloody hole gaped in her neck. A zombie was hunched over her, greedily tearing at her flesh. It had crawled in through an air vent. “Oh God…” Marcus retched. I grabbed a nearby iron chalice and slammed it into the zombie’s head.

"Let her go? In her dreams! Just let that tramp and her family die there! Rosalin is feeling unwell. She needs me. Don't call me unless there's an emergency." Then, he hung up the call. My mother was so furious her face flushed red. She wanted to yell at Jonathan, but her tears came first. "Did we murder or commit arson? Why the hell is Jonathan doing this to my daughter?" I started feeling dizzy. I wanted to ask the same question too. Right at that moment, Dr. Dunn yelled, "We need to rescue him first!" In the car, my father had started vomiting a large amount of blood. Francis could not dodge in time and received a mouthful of my father's blood on his face.

*** Early the next morning, I threw my things together fast. On my way out, I caught Ivan in the living room, gently dabbing ointment on Nadia's arms. "I'll pick some wormwood and mugwort later," he said softly. "Sorry you had to share a bed with my mom. Country mosquitoes are the worst." Nadia scrunched her nose. "Does your new job come with housing? I really don't wanna stay out here. Too many bugs—I'm covered in bites." He didn't even pause. "I'll apply in a few days. Then I'll bring you to the city."