Rise of the Undead Box Set | Books 1-3 | Apocalypse Z

luckily for the chickens.
Amy gasped, her worst fears realized. It was a zombie. It had to be. As if he sensed her presence, the man swiveled toward the house and cut across the lawn. The light fell across his diseased face, and she nearly fainted. It was the first time she’d seen an infected up close, and it was far worse than she’d imagined.
His eyes were pits of darkness, and his waxen skin was covered in black veins that looked like poisoned ivy to her panicked brain. There was something wrong with his leg too. The knee was shattered, and pieces of bone shone through the flesh like ivory splinters. They ground together when he walked, but he didn’t appear bothered by it or seemed to feel any pain.
Amy squeezed her eyes shut and looked away. It was too much. She couldn’t face the horror that shuffled toward her house with such dogged determination. That wasn’t a man. That was a monster. How could she fight against something like that? It was impossible. Maybe if I keep quiet, it’ll go away.
The grinding of bone on bone grated on her nerves. The zombie was getting closer. A low rasp issued from its throat with each step it took. It slowed when it reached the porch steps, but didn’t stop. It knew she was there, and it was coming to get her.
Suddenly, Amy’s eyes snapped open. She was no coward, and this was her home. She’d be damned if she let anything ruin it. What would Alex say if he found her hiding in the attic like a little girl?
With that thought in mind, she quickly unlocked the door and yanked it open. With one swift move, she pumped the fore-end to load a shell and raised it to her shoulder. The zombie spotted her and snarled, its teeth bared and glinting in the light. Congealed blood covered its shirt, and the smell of death emanated from it. It had fed recently.
Bile rose up Amy’s throat, and her stomach convulsed. Before her courage could run out, she aimed at the infected man’s head and pulled the trigger. She knew she had to destroy the brain. That much she’d learned from the news broadcasts before they stopped airing.
The powerful shotgun blast knocked the zombie backward. It went flying off the porch to land in the dust where it lay twitching. Amy watched with bated breath until she was sure it was dead.
After a few seconds, she took a few steps forward to get a closer look. The man’s face was unrecognizable. A mass of blood and bone. This time, Amy couldn’t stop her stomach from revolting, and her entire supper ended up on the ground.
When the heaving finally stopped, she fled back into the house. With trembling hands, she locked the door behind her and sagged to the floor. She’d killed a man. A person. He was infected, she knew, but still a human being. In the morning, she’d have to get rid of the body. Her stomach churned at the thought. “How am I going to do this?”
The silence had no answers for her.
Suddenly, an awful thought occurred to Amy. What if more zombies came? Too many to kill? And how did that one get in? She was supposed to be safe here. The grounds were fenced…unless there was a gap in the wire.
Amy shook her head, gathering up the shreds of her courage. “I’ll check it in the morning. I have to. I can’t let any more of those things get in, or I could be overrun.”
With her decision made, she set off for bed, even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She had to try, at least. She couldn’t afford to let fear get the best of her anymore. “Come on, Amy. You’re a fighter. Remember that.”

Chapter 9 - Alex
Alex frowned when he spotted the obstruction on the highway. He eased up on the throttle and slowed to a stop. With one boot planted on the asphalt and the bike engine idling in the background, he studied the road ahead.
A multiple vehicle pile-up blocked the way forward. The mangled wrecks of cars, trucks, and even a bus was visible, and Alex swore under his breath. “Damn it. This is the last thing I need right now.”
He was already late. He’d told his mom he’d take no more than a couple of days to get home. Instead, the journey had been far more complicated than he’d thought and fraught with danger. Today was day three, and he still had about two hundred miles to go to reach Louisville. While that didn’t sound like much, he’d learned a thing or two over the past few days. Ordinarily, he’d be home in two hours tops, but now that same distance could take days.
Alex eased his weight back into his seat. He was in no rush to move forward. The pile-up appeared natural — a genuine car crash caused by the times. But appearances could be deceiving.
For one thing, he couldn’t spot any movement among the vehicles, and that was unusual. Crashes like these tended to draw infected like moths to a flame. Not only that, but the victims themselves could often be found either trapped in their cars or wandering about like ghosts in a daze. He’d seen a lot of that, and each time it tore at his heart. He helped where he could and shot his way through when he couldn’t. It was the best he could offer, and it never felt like enough.
Here, there was nothing like that. No infected, no victims, no movement at all. It didn’t feel right. Something about this blockade bothered him, and he thought back over the past three days and everything he’d been through to get here.
It was a lot.
After acquiring his new ride, he’d left Kansas City like his tail was on fire. By that time, it was already late afternoon, and after traveling for an hour, he had