Apocalypse Atlanta
Read Apocalypse Atlanta Online
Authors: David Rogers
By David Rogers
Apocalypse Atlanta
Copyrigh
t©
2013 by David Rogers
All rights reserved
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased or lent for your use, then please return to your preferred ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of original fiction set in Atlanta, Georgia, USA. Some real locations and businesses have been used to set scenes, but all such trademarks are the respective property of their owners. All depicted characters are fictional and not intended to represent specific living persons.
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Bite Sized Apocalypse
– an anthology of five short stories set in the universe of Apocalypse Atlanta. The common thread are the zombies. Each story looks at a different little slice of the apocalypse as it gets going for those particular characters. Little bite-sized chunks of it.
Is that a dinner bell I hear?
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The five stories in Bite Sized Apocalypse are also available individually.
Better to be Lucky
– You've thought about it. What would the first few hours of a zombie apocalypse be like? For one company of military police, it was like almost any other job in the service. Boredom with flashes of sheer, howling terror.
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Marching through the Apocalypse
– Many things might be happening when a zombie apocalypse begins. For some of the most genre aware people in Atlanta, their survival wasn't so much who or where they were, but rather what they were wearing when people started getting hungry.
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There goes the Weekend
– A bail bondsman's, er . . . woman's, day can be boring or interesting. Boring can be profitable, and interesting can be fun. But there is such a thing as too much fun. When Darla goes looking for a wife beater right when the zombie apocalypse kicks off, there goes the weekend.
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Smoke ‘em if you’ve got ‘em
– Life is about rules. Lots of rules. But when zombies start eating people, the rules change.
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A little me time
– Every year, Lloyd spends a week hiking in the North Georgia mountains. This year, while he's getting away from it all, everything goes straight to hell.
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Chapter Four – For yo
ur own safety, please stay home
Chapter Five – Glad I
could help
Chapter Seve
n – Yeah, that’s bad
Chapter Nine
– Running on empty
Chapter Twelve
– Take all necessary precautions
Chapter Thirteen –
What should we do
Chapter Fourte
en – Wait, what?
Chapter Se
venteen – Being brave sucks
Chapter Eighte
en – You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here
Zombies
Jessica
“One more day until the end.”
Jessica startled badly, enough that she dropped the tub of margarine. Turning her head, she fixed a glare at the teenager who had come up behind her. “Joey, don’t do that.”
“What?” he asked, sounding somewhere between distracted and unconcerned as he reached up and opened one of the top cabinets. He was tall, already as tall as Brett had been, and had no problem reaching the upper shelves. Jessica had to use a folding step stool to reach up there.
“Don’t sneak up on people like that.” Jessica said, trying to inject sternness in her tone. “It’s not polite.”
“Mom, I wasn’t sneaking.” Joey said as he hauled a soft sided lunch cooler down. “You just weren’t paying attention.”
“Shush.” Jessica said, collecting the margarine and grabbing the jelly out of the shelf on the inside of the fridge door. Before she could close it, Joey had bustled over and was trying to reach past her. “And wait your turn.”
“Fine.” he said, heaving a labored sigh and stepping back. As soon as Jessica moved away from the fridge, he half dove inside, rummaging in the deli drawer for the lunch meat. Jessica collected the plate of English muffins fresh from the toaster off the counter and went into the dining room.
“Candice, breakfast. Turn that off and come eat.” she called toward the front room as she unloaded margarine and jelly and plate onto the table. She heard the television switch off, and a moment later her youngest daughter came through the open doorway looking anxiously at the table.
“Thanks Mom.” she said as she slid into her chair. There was already a steaming ‘breakfast bowl’ awaiting her, a microwaved concoction of potatoes, scrambled eggs and cheese. Jessica couldn’t stand them, way too much salt and processed food, but Candice loved the things. It saved Jessica the time necessary to make something more elaborate each morning.
Making her regular resolution to ignore what her mother would think of feeding her kids something that came ready to heat and eat from a factory, Jessica told herself single mothers had to pick their battles. With the addition of a muffin, placed on a little breakfast plate, Candice would be all set. Jessica made sure the butter and jelly were within her youngest’s reach, then went back into the kitchen.
“Until the end of what?” she asked.
Joey looked up from the sandwich he was assembling on the counter next to the fridge. “Huh?”
“Now you’re not paying attention.” Jessica said. “One more day until the end of what?”
“Oh.” he said, grinning. The easy gesture came naturally to him, and Jessica felt a little pang of longing stab at her. He looked so much like Brett. It was a good thing, but it made it harder sometimes. She shook the dark thought aside as he continued speaking. “Until the end of try outs. Coach is going to post the first and second teams after practice this afternoon, and then the season starts next week.”
“Ah.” Jessica said. She picked up her mug of coffee and took a large gulp. “And?”
“And what?”
“And do you think you’ll make the cut?”
Joey shrugged, his expression suddenly a little guarded. Jessica smiled fondly at him as he refocused his attention on the sandwich. “You’ll do fine honey. You’ve been practicing a lot.”
“Yeah, but Billy Tanner is faster.” he said, sounding unhappy as he layered a second piece of cheese onto the quarter inch of turkey and ham already atop the bottom slice of bread. “And Dante is taller.”
Jessica sipped coffee as he closed the sandwich up with the other slice of bread, then started fitting it into a sandwich bag. It took a little doing. The bags were designed for normal sandwiches, not the Dagwood style monstrosities Joey scarfed down. “If you suck, then you suck.” she said after a moment.
“Mom!” Joey said, turning indignantly and giving her as much of a glare as he obviously felt he could get away with.
“Well it’s true, isn’t it?” she said, making her eyes radiate innocence as she smiled at him from behind the coffee mug. “Last day of try outs doesn’t leave much time to get any better, does it?”
“What happened to parental support?” Joey moaned mournfully, dropping the sandwich into the cooler and opening another upper cabinet drawer. He took down two bags of ‘single serving’ chips and added them to the cooler.
“This is me supporting you.” Jessica told him. “You’re going to do fine. Relax.”
“Jeez, maybe you could try a little harder to be helpful?”
“Make sure you put some fruit in that cooler.” Jessica said. “See, that’s helpful. Fruit is good for you, helps you run faster.”
“Billy isn’t faster because he eats fruit.” Joey said, but he opened the fridge again and dug into the fruit drawer. He added a pair of apples to the cooler, then started zipping it closed.
“That’s because Billy’s mother must not love him as much as yours does.”
“Mom.” Joey said, moaning again. At seventeen he was well into the stage of being embarrassed by parental affection. Jessica found it as funny as it was a little saddening; it meant he was almost grown up. She didn’t know what she’d do when he went off to college next year.
“Mom!” a female voice called from further back in the house.
“And that’ll be the regularly scheduled Friday morning crisis of the closet.” Jessica said, putting her coffee down. “Excuse me.”
“Tell her whatever she’s looking for, it’s too short.” Joey said as Jessica turned to leave. “School year’s not even a month old yet and I’ve already had three guys ask me who she’s dating. Seniors mom, seniors. Make her wear a burka or something.”
Jessica hid her smile by completing her turn. She went through the living room and hung a sort of u-turn around the wall that separated the living room and the stairwell. Standing at the top of the stairs, still wrapped in a robe, was her middle child. Jessica sighed audibly. “Sandra, honestly, you’re going to miss the bus if you don’t hurry up and get dressed.”
“Mom, I can’t find my black skirt.” Sandra said, her tone trying to convey the extreme gravity of this to her mother.
“Which black skirt?” Jessica asked, not entirely unreasonably. Sandra had more clothes than Jessica herself did, which was impressive considering Jessica’d not only had longer to collect them, but also did the lion’s share of the purchasing for her daughter’s closet as well.
“The new one with the pleats. The one I got last week.”
Jessica’s head was shaking as soon as the word ‘new’ came out of Sandra’s mouth. “That’s not for school.”
“Mom!” Sandra said, not shrieking but definitely with a note of outrage that increased her volume several notches.
“Absolutely not.” Jessica said firmly. “I told you when you got it that it was for weekends and dates, not school.”
“Oh my God!” Sandra said. “Why?”
“Because.” Jessica replied, using the unyielding logic American parents had been employing on their children for generations. “Now get dressed. And not in that skirt. School clothes. Something presentable.”
“You’re killing me.” Sandra said with a huff, turning on her heel as she started back for her room.
“Not yet.” Jessica called after her. “But if you and your sister miss your bus, I will.”
“Drama.” Sandra’s voice floated back down through the closing door.
“Oh there’ll be drama.” Jessica said, shaking her head as she went back into the kitchen. She reclaimed her coffee and took it with her as she returned to the dining room to check on Candice. The ten-year-old was just finishing the last few bites of her muffin. She looked up as Jessica came in.
“Why can’t Sandy wear that skirt to school?”
Jessica shook her head, though without heat. “Because it’s not school clothes.” she said.
“Oh.” Candice popped the last bit of muffin in her mouth, then squeezed out of the chair and picked up her plate. The empty ‘breakfast bowl’ was already on it. “So what’s she going to wear then?”
“School clothes.” Jessica said firmly, though she couldn’t help her involuntary glance in the direction of the stairs. “School clothes are for school. It’s not complicated.”
“You know you’re in the minority, right?” Joey asked as he came in with cereal and milk. Setting them down, he took the bowl he’d wedged under his arm out and collapsed into the chair untidily with it. Of course, the ‘bowl’ was suitable for serving soup to an entire table.