Every breath could be their last.
Necrosis
by C.L. Schneider
Genre: Post-Apocalyptic Horror
How far would you go to survive—when every
breath could be your last?
Amidst the chaos and fear of an apocalyptic virus, a mother fights to protect
her daughter from the rotting remains of society. Navigating a frightening new
world where survival is paramount and trust is a gamble, infection is only a
misstep away. Despite her doubts and imperfections, Amy’s love and resolve are
without question. But are they enough? Can she shield her daughter from the
violence and savagery, and keep them both alive another day? For, at the end of
the world, there’s no second chance. With a single bite, necrosis will set in.
Sink your teeth into this zombie survival story with a twist ending you won't
see coming!
Necrosis Excerpt
Raspy sounds of hunger pushed from her rotted throat,
washing over me with the smell of old blood and things long dead. I didn’t
understand how breath still rattled in her lungs. How her vocal cords, exposed
and moldy, were still capable of producing noise—a terrible wet, scraping that
was so far from human. So far from her.
My mother had a sweet voice in life. Melodic.
Powerful, when she wanted it to be. Her songs were one of my sharpest memories
as a child. They were the soundtrack of my youth. Everyone used to say, “Bridgette
could have made it big.” If she didn’t have four kids, two jobs, and a
husband who cared more for drinking than working. Now she’ll never sing
again.
For some reason, the thought struck me harder than the
look of her gray, decomposing flesh and patchy hair; sporadic clumps of white
strands, matted and darkened with bloody tissue.
Beside me, my daughter screamed, with all the gusto of
a nine-year-old whose world had fallen apart. Her gaze darted from the horror
inching toward us in the dining room to the real-time carnage of my boyfriend’s
death happening in the kitchen, and she screamed louder.
I put a hand over her mouth, silencing the
high-pitched dinner bell before it carried into the street and brought more of
the undead in through the busted front door. “Shhh, Lila, please,” I whispered.
“You know better.”
She nodded, tears streaming, and I removed my hand.
Her shoulders shrugged in a fast, heavy breath. “Grandma…” It was all she could
get out before burying her face in my leg.
I peeled Lila off me and shoved her toward the
bathroom. “In there. Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone but me. Go!”
Lila hurried off, messy, brown ponytail bouncing, as
her short legs carried her down the hall and into the bathroom. The door
closed. Locked. I imagined her hiding in the bathtub, curled up in a ball,
clutching the dirty ladybug covered backpack she hadn’t put down since we left
home. I raised the tire iron in my grip and vowed, as I had a hundred times, to
do whatever was necessary to protect her. Lila was the only good thing I’d ever
done in my life.
We shouldn’t have brought her here, I
thought, watching my mother’s bloated jaw, snapping involuntarily, searching
for a meal. My stare darted to the body in the kitchen, blood-soaked and
twitching, as the mindless fiends bent over my boyfriend, devouring him alive.
It’s too much.
It's all too much. No child should have to see what
we’ve all become.
We should have gone to the country like Rusty wanted.
There’s too many in the city. Coming home was a mistake.
The outbreak was too widespread for an old, wheelchair
dependent woman with a bad hip to survive on her own. If I’d gotten here
sooner…. But there were too many states between us, and with the roads
clogged and gas scarce and wandering bands of the undead everywhere, the trip
became painfully long. My mother couldn’t run, couldn’t fight. But I let wishes
override common sense, and convinced myself she’d be here, barricaded in, alive
and well. Maybe, with Mr. and Mrs. Hitchens next door. Or the Walker family on
the corner. It was a close-knit neighborhood. Everyone looked after each other.
Particularly her, after my father left.
Yet, in my heart I knew better.
I knew I’d find her stricken with the virus,
holed up in the dusty rooms of the ramshackle house I grew up in. I knew what
she’d look like, flesh disintegrating and mind gone. I knew what I’d have to
do. I’d seen, and killed, enough of the ravaged these last four months to be
prepared.
Except, I wasn’t.
Her sallow, blood-stained eyes (once a soft brown)
locked on me, not with the love of a mother, but with the malice of a starving
predator. Her bloated fingers, tips torn down to the nailbed, dug into the
floor as she crawled toward me. She wouldn’t stop unless I stopped her.
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About the Author
C.
L. Schneider is an award-winning author of immersive fantasy fiction, including
The Crown of Stones Trilogy and the Nite Fire Series. While
fantasy is her main focus, she also pens the occasional horror or apocalyptic
tale. Born in a small Kansas town, Schneider resides in New York’s scenic
Hudson Valley Region with her husband and two sons. To learn more about the
worlds she creates, please visit her website www.clschneiderauthor.com or connect with C.
L. Schneider on social media, where she is an active part of the indie author
community.
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ReplyDeleteThe cover looks amazing. Sounds like an interesting story.
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