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

street. The bike was fast and responsive. As he weaved through the traffic with smooth precision, Alex found himself grinning with pure pleasure. Nothing could stop him now. He’d be back home in no time at all. “Hold on, Amy. I’m coming, Sis.”

Chapter 4 - Dylan
“What do I do now, Ben?” Dylan asked in a low whisper. She shifted around on the rough crate she sat on, trying to get comfortable. It was impossible. The crate wasn’t meant for sitting or comfort. Not that it mattered in the face of what had befallen her. She was going to die anyway.
Ben shook his head, unable to comfort her. “I don’t know.”
A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye, but other than that she felt numb. “I knew I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve stayed at home.”
“I’m sorry.” He got up and paced around the room, avoiding the stacked pallets of supplies around them. The dull thuds of the infected beating on the door had grown distant, like something from another world.
“To think I got bitten because of that stupid cart,” Dylan said, giving the offending object an angry kick. “I should’ve let it go. Instead, I came all this way to die for a few bottles of water and a couple of cans of tuna. I don’t even like tuna!”
“It’s crazy,” Ben agreed, his shoulders sagging with defeat. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“I know.” Dylan glanced back at the way she came. “At least, you saved me from being eaten and becoming one of those things straight away. Now, I can go out on my own terms.”
Ben glanced at the gun on her hip. “I suppose it’s better to go by your own hand than…”
He trailed off, and Dylan shuddered. She knew what he meant. They both knew what awaited her, and it wasn’t pretty. Her thoughts wandered back over the past few weeks and how it all began.
It started as an internet rumor, circulating on the web via a series of posts, videos, and chatroom threads. There was a health alert in the Congo, North Africa. Something about an outbreak in Brazzaville. Like many, she didn’t believe it, writing it off as fake news. Then it aired on the news, hitting all the big channels in a row. By then, it was too late.
Within days, half of the world’s population were sick. Once infected, patients grew increasingly ill with flu-like symptoms. They continued to work and travel, spreading the infection until forced to seek medical care.
The hospitals and medical centers overflowed as doctors sought to treat them. None survived. Within seventy-two hours, the virus ran its course, killing the host only to reanimate the corpse minutes later.
Those that didn’t succumb initially were killed by those that did — ripped apart by the monsters that used to be their family, friends, and colleagues. While some were immune to the airborne strain, no one was immune to a bite. Minutes later they rose from the dead, turned into monsters as well. If bitten but not killed outright, like Dylan, you had time. Seventy-two hours, give or take.
Time to suffer the full horror of the infection as it ravaged your body.
Time to feel the virus take over your brain and wash away everything that made you human.
Time to regret all the things you never got to experience.
Dylan looked at the bite mark on her arm, tracing its shape with her forefinger. “I’ve got no one to say goodbye to.”
“Excuse me?” Ben said with a frown.
“Never mind. Just thinking out loud.” Dylan twisted her arm around and set her digital watch to stopwatch mode. Thumbing in the hours minus ten minutes for time already passed, she watched as the seconds began to run backward. Seventy-one hours, forty-nine minutes, and fifty-two seconds.
“Do you have someone?” Ben asked after an uncomfortable silence. “Someone to look after you when the…you know. When the time comes.”
Dylan snorted. “Nothing’s changed in that regard, Ben. It’s still just me.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, but I have to get back to my family. Are you going to be alright?”
Dylan stared at him with raised eyebrows, the irony of his question not lost on her. “I’ll be fine, thanks.”
He bobbed his head without meeting her gaze and walked toward the door that opened onto the loading dock at the back of the supermarket. After gazing outside through a side window, he said, “The coast is clear for now. You can make a run for it if you want, or you can stay here. Your choice.”
“I’m going,” Dylan said. “I’ll be damned if I stay here.”
“Where’s your car parked?” he asked.
“Out front.”
“You’ll never make it.”
“I know. Can you give me a lift?” Dylan asked, knowing he always parked at the back with the other employees.
“I can’t, Dylan. I’ve been gone too long already. I’m sorry, but my family needs me, and I can’t take you with me. It’s too risky.”
“Then why didn’t you stay at home with them?” Dylan said with growing frustration.
“Same reason you did. Food. I loaded my car with the supplies in here while…”
“While the people out front were dying,” Dylan said, not bothering to hide her bitterness.
“Try to understand. I’ve got kids, a wife, a dog, for God’s sake,” Ben said, running a nervous hand through his thinning hair. “They’re my responsibility.”
Dylan sighed, knowing he was right. “I get it, Ben. I do.”
“Look, Susan came in as well. Her car’s parked next to mine, and her keys are in her locker.”
“Where’s Susan?”
Ben didn’t reply, and Dylan got the message. Susan was dead.
“I’m going now,” he said, “before those things can circle around. You should too.”
“I’m coming, just give me a chance to grab a few things,” Dylan said.
“I can’t wait any longer.” After a final look outside, he slid his keycard through the slot and opened the door a crack. When nothing happened, he tossed her the card. “Take this, and God be with you, Dylan.”
With those final words, he ducked outside. The door