Dead Days Zombie Apocalypse Series (Book 9) Read online

  DEAD DAYS: SEASON NINE

  RYAN CASEY

  CONTENTS

  Bonus Content

  DEAD DAYS: SEASON NINE

  I. EPISODE FORTY-SEVEN

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  II. EPISODE FORTY-EIGHT

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  III. EPISODE FORTY-NINE

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  IV. EPISODE FIFTY

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

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  DEAD DAYS: SEASON NINE

  EPISODE FORTY-SEVEN

  FRIENDS REUNITED

  (FIRST EPISODE OF SEASON NINE)

  PROLOGUE

  Anna watched as the flames engulfed Heathwaite’s Caravan Park and she knew there was no going back.

  It was the start of spring and it was late. The days were getting longer, slowly but surely. The leaves were starting to return to the trees. The birdsong seemed like it was getting louder and more resonant, but that could’ve just been a trick of her mind.

  Looking over the caravan site, it really was beautiful. Anna hadn’t really taken enough time to appreciate just how beautiful it actually was. She’d been so busy working to keep the place running, rebuilding it, especially after the great attack by the infected in the winter.

  When she thought about that attack, the hairs on her arms stood on end. She tasted vomit, as nausea clawed its way up through her body.

  She didn’t like to think of the day of the great attack.

  She didn’t like to think about all the people she’d loved—the people she’d been with since the very start of the outbreak—all being around her.

  She didn’t like to think about what happened to them.

  Because there was no doubt about it in Anna’s mind.

  They were dead. Riley. Claudia. Chloë. All of them were dead.

  And that wasn’t even the darkest part.

  The darkest part was her left eye… now non-existent thanks to Chloë’s wayward shot in her direction.

  She lowered her head and looked at the ground beneath her. Sometimes she’d stay awake at night wondering whether Chloë really meant to shoot her. After all, she was a sweet kid. A troubled kid, no doubt. She’d lost her sister, and when their boat had got caught in the storm, she and her mother had been separated from the rest of the group.

  Anna had no idea what had happened to them. She didn’t know what they’d been caught up in, what they’d been through, or what they’d been told.

  Only that Chloë had been on Mike’s side. And as far as Rodrigo—who used to run Heathwaite’s—made out, Mike was the bad guy. Mike was the enemy.

  She didn’t believe Chloë was the enemy. She didn’t want to believe it.

  But she’d been at that other side of the road with Mike’s people and she’d fired.

  She felt the heat from the flames kiss her cheeks and she covered her chest with her arms. Listening to the flicker of the fire was soothing, in a way. If she zoned out enough, Anna could convince herself she was back home before all of this mess. Or that she was with Riley somewhere in a distant future. A kinder future.

  She’d felt something for Riley. Something undeniably strong. Far stronger than she’d felt about anyone else.

  Her last memory, before the light in her eyes went out—in one of those eyes for good—was Riley taking the necklace from her neck and running.

  She wondered whether he’d died close to here. She wondered where he’d got to. There was talk of a bunker in the hills before the great showdown. Maybe he’d gone that way. She’d tried searching for him, once she’d returned to full-strength—an eye short, nonetheless. The survivors of Heathwaite’s, they’d been good to her.

  But they were dead now.

  They were burning, their screams cutting through the air, piercing the silence.

  And Anna felt so guilty.

  So guilty.

  She took a shaky breath of the charred air and looked at the road to her right. She didn’t know where it led. Well. She knew it led to a place called Silverdale. And that eventually she’d find herself heading towards Carnforth and Yealand Conyers and eventually even Morecambe and Lancaster.

  But she didn’t know where it really led.

  She knew what was out there.

  She knew how dangerous they could be.

  After all, they were the very reason she’d decided to torch this place and part ways in the first place.

  She looked back at the camp and she saw someone dragging himself along. He was covered in flames. All of the skin on his body had burned to a crisp, like he was barbecuing. But he was still going. Through all the agony, he was still pulling himself along.

  And Anna felt a lump in her throat when she saw this. It was a man called Dave. He’d been good to her. He’d helped her recover.

  And now she was leaving him to suffer.

  She looked at the smoke rising into the sky. She’d done the right thing. She had to believe that. After all, the infection had spread behind the walls of the caravan site. And she’d seen things. She’d seen developments in the infection that she didn’t know were possible before. She’d seen parasites, wormlike, creeping through the shadows and waiting to strike. She’d seen a look of intelligence in the eyes of the infected. Like there was a light still on inside them. Like someone was still home.

  As she listened to the screaming of Dave, her friend, she thought about going back inside Heathwaite’s. She thought about giving him a merciful death. Because this was no way to die. There were few deaths that robbed a person of their dignity more.

  And yet something stopped her from doing that. She didn’t know what it was, only that it made her feel guilty. Ashamed.

  She didn’t want to put him out of his misery because she was afraid that the infection would spread to her, somehow.

  And as much as they’d all promised they were i
n it together, they weren’t. Not really. Not when push came to shove.

  Anna valued survival way more than everyone inside this camp.

  So she stared at Dave a little longer. She watched him drag his disintegrating body further across the tarmac in front of the caravan park reception.

  And when he went totally still, his head tumbling to the ground and leaving his body nothing more than a lump of charred flesh, she looked away at last.

  She couldn’t look back at Heathwaite’s. Because sure, it had been her home. Sure, she’d had some positive times there.

  But Heathwaite’s was the past. And it was a past that would always haunt her.

  So she pulled her rucksack over her shoulder.

  She took a deep breath, and she looked down at the knife in her hand.

  She was going to do this because she was strong.

  One eye or no eyes at all, she was going to succeed.

  She cleared her throat. Stood tall. Looked at the road ahead, wherever it led, whatever dangers it held in its wake.

  Then, she walked.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Anna ran as fast as she could down West View Lane.

  It was a narrow road, the windows of the houses and flats too close to the street for comfort. She imagined living in those houses, being forced to watch every bit of traffic pass by, to have every person who walked past peer inside your home, invading your privacy on such a regular basis. Anna was a woman who liked her space. The thought of living in a place like that on a permanent basis made her feel claustrophobic.

  But there were bigger issues than tight spaces right now.

  And those bigger issues were marching in her direction at the opposite end of the road.

  She looked over her shoulder. She knew she shouldn’t. After all, looking over her shoulder and acknowledging their presence just made them seem all the more real.

  But then again, they were real. And it was only through acknowledging them that she was ever really going to get away from them.

  Or fight them.

  She put her hands on her knees. She was out of breath. She found herself getting out of breath a lot more easily these days, which was weird considering she was better fed and dehydrated much less often.

  She figured it must be age. She wouldn’t like to harbour a guess at what the average lifespan was in this new world. Or… well. Not new exactly. She’d been living in it long enough for it to be the status quo now.

  But whatever the correct way of viewing it, the fact of the matter stood. Even without the threat of the infected, life expectancy was surely at an all time low.

  She turned and faced the group of infected coming towards her. She could hear their damp footsteps slapping against the tarmac. Some of their bones cracked when they walked, limbs dislodged and out of place. The smell was always the worst thing, though. It followed them everywhere, so intense and sickening that Anna swore she could see a cloud around them. But then that cloud was probably just the mass of flies buzzing after them, feasting on their skin.

  As they came towards her, Anna took a few steps back. It was worse at the moment because it was spring. With spring came warmer days, and with warmer days came more rot. This was her second spring since the outbreak, so she had plenty to go on in terms of memory and experience.

  She wondered when the day would come that they just rotted away completely. After all, just how rotted did they have to be for their bodies to shut down?

  She hoped she’d still be around to find out.

  As she took another few steps back to leave the road and get out of these claustrophobic confines, she had a memory. A memory that she was back on that open road in the early days of her solitude. She remembered the time she’d gone into that village about ten miles from Heathwaite’s and seen just how battened down it was. The people there had built walls out of logged trees. From the inside, it seemed perfect. Like it was strong enough to hold forever.

  But one thing people didn’t account for when they were making these shelters and these homes was the unshakable human desire to stretch their legs.

  And when people start stretching their legs, on their journeys for food and for water and supplies, there always comes a strong chance of something not quite working out.

  The village had already fallen when Anna got there. The people inside this perfect fortress of a place had all already turned. Only all they could do was push up against the walls they’d built, desperate to get out. Irony could be cruel.

  She took a deep breath, flashing back into the present moment, and turned to the end of the road.

  That’s when she saw them.

  “Oh shit.”

  There were four of them, and they were quick. Not running, but moving with a swiftness and agility that exceeded the majority. They weren’t as decomposed as the crew at the other end of the road. All of them looked relatively young except for a man in a tweed jacket, still in good nick other than the hole in its right side where a chunk of flesh had been bitten away.

  Anna looked over her shoulder. The group of infected was getting closer.

  Then she looked ahead.

  They were right in front of her.

  She remembered exactly how she’d dealt with the infected at that village on the road, and she took a deep breath and raised her machete.

  She slammed it right into the first attacker’s temple.

  But the infected kept on struggling. The machete was wedged in its skull. Its teeth were snapping out, pushing against the machete with no regard for its own miserable existence.

  So Anna yanked the machete away as hard as she could and stabbed it right through the chin.

  This time, the infected went still.

  But another of the infected was already right beside her, clutching for her right arm.

  She pulled the machete quickly out of the first of the infected’s skulls and turned it on the second infected. It was so close to her. So near to biting her, to sinking its teeth into her flesh.

  But she kept her cool. She kept her composure.

  And she sliced the second infected’s head in two.

  “Right,” she said, backing up and raising her machete. She had to focus extra hard now she had just the one eye. Had to account for blind spots—literal ones. “How about the rest of you?”

  The two remaining infected were the least agile, but were definitely the biggest. Anna couldn’t see any others behind them, so she knew she had to deal with them.

  Especially now she’d noticed the petrol canister just a few feet away. A leaky petrol canister.

  Petrol could come in handy. It could be useful.

  But something else could be even more useful right now, as the footsteps of the dead behind her got within metres…

  She dodged the assault of the infected woman on her left. She sliced away her arm, then brought the blade crashing against the front of her skull. She hit at its head, beat it like she was cracking an egg.

  The infected thrashed and shook on the ground.

  Then, it went still.

  Anna heard the snarled groan of the infected right ahead of her.

  She went to swing at it.

  But it already had its hands on her head.

  She felt its cold palms dig into her temples. She felt them squeezing harder and harder. She knew its teeth would be getting closer to her skull. And she knew the rest of the infected mob coming from the other direction would be upon her soon.

  She saw herself being torn apart, limb by limb, piece by piece.

  She imagined everything falling apart after coming so far.

  But then she felt a spark of life in her body.

  “No,” she said.

  She pushed back and she rammed the machete right up through the chin of the infected.

  Its grip on her head went soft.

  She tried to pull the machete away but it was wedged in. And the infected behind her were a matter of feet now, so close to being upon her.

  So she did th
e only thing she could.

  She took a chance and she ran to the end of the road.

  When she got there, she took a quick look left and right, making sure her surroundings were clear.

  Then she looked back at the infected as they poured down the road.

  She pulled out her matches. Lit one, then looked over at the leaky petrol canister.

  “Sorry to waste some good fuel on you,” she said.

  Then she dropped the match.

  The flames moved in slow motion.

  For a moment, Anna wasn’t sure if they’d get there at all.

  But then they rushed their way to the canister, and Anna held her breath.

  The canister exploded. Flames blasted across all of the infected. Decomposed limbs flew everywhere. The smell of rot reached crazy new heights. Bits of cold blood and flesh splattered over Anna as the infected fell to their knees, groaning and screaming in the flames.

  She wiped some of the blood from her eye.

  When she looked to her right, she saw movement.

  It was Riley.

  He smiled at her. Like he was enjoying all this.

  And she smiled back at him. She couldn’t help but smile.

  “Nice of you to just stand there,” she said.

  Riley shrugged. “I figured I’d see how you did.”

  “Wonderful to know you value my life so highly. I’ll be sure to remember this.”

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  She walked over to him, then. And as they looked back at the smoke rising from the alleyway, charred infected staggering out of the alleyway, the pair of them smiled.

  Then, they walked away.

  This was the new world now.

  This was life now.

  And it was better than it’d been in a long time.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Six months after Riley reunited with Anna and he still couldn’t get over the fact that he was walking beside her once again.

  It was a beautiful spring afternoon. The sun shone down brightly, making the houses and buildings of Lancaster look gorgeous. It’d been a long winter… although not nearly as long as the last, not now Anna had returned. That was a shock and surprise that Riley was still struggling to truly comprehend.