Read Online Aftershock: A Collection of Survivors Tales by Valerie Lioudis, Kristopher Lioudis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Valerie Lioudis, Kristopher Lioudis
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brace my foot against the wall to pull my spear back out of her skull. What a freaking mess. I can’t explain to you what comes out of these thing, it’s not blood. It’s more like goo. As I wrestled my spear out of her brain, her scrawny ass husband was pulling himself up the stairs. Once the weapon was free, I sent her flying down on top of him. He was pinned at the bottom step underneath his behemoth of a bride. That was a hell of a sight. With him stuck all I had to do was walk down the steps, and skewer his head. In an instant, it was over. Kind of like putting down a dog; a rabid, flesh eating, dead person dog.
The apartment stunk like death. I opened all the windows. Being on the second floor of a building allowed that luxury. The owners of the building should have put a fire escape out one of the windows, but they did not. I have never been so happy that someone was a cheap ass bastard. I went room to room and when I got to the kid’s room I threw up. I don’t know, Mom and Dad turned and ate the kids I guess. Gross shit. There wasn’t much left, just a room painted with airplanes covered in blood. I’ve seen a lot of shit, but that shit is going to haunt me.
No smokes. Not one lousy pack. I told you this shit never works out like the movies. In a movie I would have found a carton of my brand sitting right on the counter as a reward for the fight I just went through. There would probably have been a hot blond spread eagle on the bed holding a bottle of Jack too. Life ain’t like a movie; I got no smokes and a baby massacre as my reward. It’s one lousy son of a bitch, it is.
That’s when the caravan went through. I got to watch from the second story window as they hauled ass outta town. Gave me an idea, though. I’m gonna pack one of them bug out bags I heard about before the whole world went to shit. The next time I see a living person driving down Main Street, I’m hitching a ride. Maybe it’ll be a hot blonde with a bottle of Jack. Yea, that would be fan-fucking-tastic.
Jessica
It’s been like a police state here. Vincent and his cronies rule with an iron fist. In the beginning it made sense to me, but the more I watched the worse I felt about the whole set up. As a group we gained a large portion of the island back. Vincent had them set up lines of defense. We gained more living every day, and eradicated more of the dead. Vincent quickly became “The Captain” and the rest of us became his crew. I shouldn’t really complain because personally I have not been treated poorly. This is due to Vincent’s need to archive his rise to power. I will be his personal biographer.
What I have seen him do to others has made my heart break. In this new island society if you are on the wrong side of The Captain then you are accused of being infected and shot. His mood swings are intense and knowing what will land you on the death list is impossible. I can’t put any of this in the book he has me writing. I just write of how he is doing the hard things to keep us safe. That these decisions are what has made him an extraordinary leader. The Captain is the only man for the job. That is what I am being forced to write. This is the largest work of fiction I have ever worked on.
Everyone on this side of the line has a job assigned to them. The Captain’s men evaluate what your skills are and from there you are put in training for one of the work units. This is a really efficient system. The largest men were put on the line or on the hunting crews. Anyone with any fabrication or machinist knowledge was put to work in the shop. There they fixed the items found in the sweeps, or made new items such as wind turbines from materials found. There were people assigned to scavenge, fish, cook, take care of the kids, and even a morale committee. Not everything that this regime did was bad, it was just the bad things overshadowed the good. We all became sheep following a madman.
Vincent grew each day in
The apartment stunk like death. I opened all the windows. Being on the second floor of a building allowed that luxury. The owners of the building should have put a fire escape out one of the windows, but they did not. I have never been so happy that someone was a cheap ass bastard. I went room to room and when I got to the kid’s room I threw up. I don’t know, Mom and Dad turned and ate the kids I guess. Gross shit. There wasn’t much left, just a room painted with airplanes covered in blood. I’ve seen a lot of shit, but that shit is going to haunt me.
No smokes. Not one lousy pack. I told you this shit never works out like the movies. In a movie I would have found a carton of my brand sitting right on the counter as a reward for the fight I just went through. There would probably have been a hot blond spread eagle on the bed holding a bottle of Jack too. Life ain’t like a movie; I got no smokes and a baby massacre as my reward. It’s one lousy son of a bitch, it is.
That’s when the caravan went through. I got to watch from the second story window as they hauled ass outta town. Gave me an idea, though. I’m gonna pack one of them bug out bags I heard about before the whole world went to shit. The next time I see a living person driving down Main Street, I’m hitching a ride. Maybe it’ll be a hot blonde with a bottle of Jack. Yea, that would be fan-fucking-tastic.
Jessica
It’s been like a police state here. Vincent and his cronies rule with an iron fist. In the beginning it made sense to me, but the more I watched the worse I felt about the whole set up. As a group we gained a large portion of the island back. Vincent had them set up lines of defense. We gained more living every day, and eradicated more of the dead. Vincent quickly became “The Captain” and the rest of us became his crew. I shouldn’t really complain because personally I have not been treated poorly. This is due to Vincent’s need to archive his rise to power. I will be his personal biographer.
What I have seen him do to others has made my heart break. In this new island society if you are on the wrong side of The Captain then you are accused of being infected and shot. His mood swings are intense and knowing what will land you on the death list is impossible. I can’t put any of this in the book he has me writing. I just write of how he is doing the hard things to keep us safe. That these decisions are what has made him an extraordinary leader. The Captain is the only man for the job. That is what I am being forced to write. This is the largest work of fiction I have ever worked on.
Everyone on this side of the line has a job assigned to them. The Captain’s men evaluate what your skills are and from there you are put in training for one of the work units. This is a really efficient system. The largest men were put on the line or on the hunting crews. Anyone with any fabrication or machinist knowledge was put to work in the shop. There they fixed the items found in the sweeps, or made new items such as wind turbines from materials found. There were people assigned to scavenge, fish, cook, take care of the kids, and even a morale committee. Not everything that this regime did was bad, it was just the bad things overshadowed the good. We all became sheep following a madman.
Vincent grew each day in
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