Stephen Drivick's Blog - Posts Tagged "kindle"
Virtual Ebook Fair - Sample Saturday #1
Sample from Sometimes We Ran: A Story from the Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 1
Sightseeing
Of all the things you could find on the road during a zombie apocalypse, the undead kids were always the worst.
I mean, the regular undead and the dogs were bad enough, but the kid versions really messed with your head. I watched from my hiding place among the gas pumps as the little walking corpse shambled around the parking lot. She had been a little girl, really cute and adorable. Her dress, or what remained of her dress, was a little pink frilly job with lace at the neck. She dragged her right leg behind her. The foot was nearly chewed off, and the bones were exposed. Her chest cavity was pretty much gone, and her lower jaw was missing. The only sound she could make was a horrible gurgling sound, like someone was pouring milk down her throat as she was trying to scream.
What was she, seven, eight years old? Damn shame. She's never going to grow up, go to school, or dance at a prom.
Never going to bring home a boy that pisses off her Dad.
I noticed she was clutching a headless doll. It was blood stained and extremely filthy. I think that detail unsettled me most of all. Sometimes you see the dead walking around clutching the last thing they ever touched. It could be an empty gun from their last battle, or a steak knife, or even something as mundane as a coffee cup. The kids usually have a teddy bear or some other favorite toy in their cold, dead hands.
The headless doll was a new one. I'd never seen a zombie holding one before.
I watched for a few more minutes. She didn't notice me among the gas pumps, so I guess she was pretty far gone. Usually these zombies catch on to fresh meat pretty quick and come running for a quick meal.
I knew what I had to do. I knew I had to put her down before she drew more of her undead friends to the gas station. I drew my gun and stepped out from my hiding place to put the little bastard out of her misery. She noticed me and began that horrible noise they all make. It's usually a high pitched squeal, or a low, menacing growl. Without her lower jaw, though, it was more of a low gurgle that raised goose bumps on my arm. No matter how many of these things I put down, that sound still causes the the little hairs on my neck to stand up.
Then there's the eyes. They are usually yellow or red. The yellows are more common, but it's the rare reds that could be a problem. They're more violent and hungry, and will attack on sight. With Red-Eyes, you shoot first and run away quickly.
And you better hit them in the head. It's the only way to put them down. Just like in the movies. Sometimes that doesn't even work on the first try.
One of her eyes was gone; the other was yellow. She raised the arm without the doll and started dragging herself over to me, very slowly.
Sometimes these things can be pretty fast. I recall an incident with one a few weeks ago. It was a soccer mom, I think. I stumbled on her in another parking lot somewhere long ago. For a minute, I thought she was a survivor, until I saw her dead, yellow eyes and the fresh blood on her designer clothes. She had been feeding. Her victim was a younger girl, a teenager. I hoped it wasn't her daughter. Maybe her meal had been part of her carpool or something.
She was one of the fast ones. As soon as she saw me, she made an unholy shriek and ran in my direction. I was ready, and took her out with my rifle. It took two shots. I missed on the first, and hit her in the shoulder. The second shot got her right between the eyes. She was going so fast, she actually ran for a few more steps before falling. I put a bullet in her last meal too, just in case.
The little girl zombie at the gas station wasn't going anywhere fast. She could barely move under her own power. Besides her mangled right foot, most of the bones and muscles in her legs and lower extremities were either broken or missing. As I approached, I circled around her to assess the situation. The best she could do was turn slightly and moan. She was too far gone to be able to chase me.
The back of her head was mostly gone as well. How the hell was she still walking around? Some of these things can be tough customers. I've seen a few with missing limbs crawling on the ground to find their next meal. Others had the skin mostly peeled from their bodies, their skeletons exposed like a realistic Halloween costume. Sometimes, they're burned or crushed beyond recognition, but still walking around and feeding. Then there were the dogs.
Nobody figured that dogs could turn. They ate infected meat from the ones walking around, and then they turned into undead dogs. The turned dogs were always bad news. They're a hell of a lot faster, and they work in groups. It's good old-fashioned nightmare fuel. You must always avoid the dogs.
I followed the little girl zombie for a few seconds, getting ready to blow her rotting brains out. I also looked around to see if she was alone. I didn't want any of her undead buddies sneaking up on me. It was just her and me in this former gas station. A long time ago, people would stop here on the way to work to gas up their cars and continue on with their ordinary lives. Mom and Dad would fill up their coffee cups with inexpensive brew and the kids would buy their sugary snacks. Now the only remaining cars are the stripped hulks abandoned here when the fuel ran out. The coffee and sugary snacks are long gone. Mom and Dad and the kids are dead, or walking around feeding on the living as one big happy zombie family.
It really hurts to think about the old world, before it all went bad.
The little girl zombie stumbled, and fell at my feet. She reached for me in hunger. It might have been my imagination, but I almost saw her begging me to kill her and put her out of her misery. I put the gun up to her head. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, and that her perpetual nightmare was finally over. They are never grateful. They're just animals, living only to feed. I pulled the trigger, and her head exploded like an overripe melon.
Scratch another Yellow-Eye.
I turned my attention to the gas station. I took a quick look around to see if there are any more nasty surprises inside. You can never be too careful. Not in this new world.
The building was clear. The place, a virtual time capsule, was frozen at the exact time the stuff hit the fan. All the gas was, of course, gone. Also gone was most of the food and water. What was left was either spoiled and useless or spread on the ground. The floor was a macabre mixture of smashed food, garbage, and dried blood. A few spent shotgun shells were scattered on the black-and-white tiled floor. This place must have been a war zone when everybody tried to find safety. I could almost see the throng of people trying to buy or steal anything that wasn't tied down. The first few days of the outbreak were pure hell. I didn't find much: a few unopened bottles of water and a few batteries. Everything else was useless. The register was crammed full of old twenty dollar bills. Maybe someone could use them as toilet paper.
I found a few unopened packages of beef jerky near the cash register. Beef jerky is not my favorite, but you can't pass up a meal when it presents itself. I bit off a sizable portion, and started to chew. The dried meat was salty and felt a little like shoe leather in my mouth. I ignored the horrible taste, and swallowed. It went down hard, but the nourishment was welcome. I threw a few packages in my backpack. It might come in handy someday. I finished my little snack, and then started poking around the counter looking for more goodies.
I heard a noise behind me. Without thinking, I turned around with my handgun already drawn. All these weeks on the road running from the undead have honed my skills to a fine point. The slightest noise gets me ready for battle.
It's only a cat. I've drawn my weapon on a skinny, little gray cat with a big round face trying to eat a bloated sugar doughnut on the floor. One of its paws was mangled beyond repair. Like me, this little guy has had to struggle a bit to survive.
So far, all the cats that I have encountered have been normal. I bent down, and extended my hand palm up to show that I was friendly. The cat would have nothing of it, and arched its back. It showed its teeth and howled a little bit. I guess it had gone a little feral.
Okay, little fella. I'll leave you alone. Just to show him I wasn't a bad guy, I ripped a few pieces of beef jerky into bite-sized chunks, and dropped them in front of the cat's nose. Hunger overcame fear, and it pounced on the small meal like a playful kitten. Enjoy, little buddy. Maybe one day you can help me out of a jam. I waved goodbye to my little feline companion, and walked outside into the fading sunlight.
I thought about staying the night here. My legs and back were aching, and I could use a nice long rest. However, the little girl zombie may not have been alone. I decided to walk on down the road. When it gets dark, I'll find a place to bed down and rest. You do not want to travel at night. Things get much worse at night.
As a walked away from the gas station, I noticed the sign It said $3.58/gallon for regular unleaded. Not a bad price for gas during an apocalypse.
***************************
Available for sale in the Amazon Kindle bookstore. $2.99, or read for free with Kindle Unlimited.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CZLEYZE
*****************************************
Thanks for reading!
Chapter 1
Sightseeing
Of all the things you could find on the road during a zombie apocalypse, the undead kids were always the worst.
I mean, the regular undead and the dogs were bad enough, but the kid versions really messed with your head. I watched from my hiding place among the gas pumps as the little walking corpse shambled around the parking lot. She had been a little girl, really cute and adorable. Her dress, or what remained of her dress, was a little pink frilly job with lace at the neck. She dragged her right leg behind her. The foot was nearly chewed off, and the bones were exposed. Her chest cavity was pretty much gone, and her lower jaw was missing. The only sound she could make was a horrible gurgling sound, like someone was pouring milk down her throat as she was trying to scream.
What was she, seven, eight years old? Damn shame. She's never going to grow up, go to school, or dance at a prom.
Never going to bring home a boy that pisses off her Dad.
I noticed she was clutching a headless doll. It was blood stained and extremely filthy. I think that detail unsettled me most of all. Sometimes you see the dead walking around clutching the last thing they ever touched. It could be an empty gun from their last battle, or a steak knife, or even something as mundane as a coffee cup. The kids usually have a teddy bear or some other favorite toy in their cold, dead hands.
The headless doll was a new one. I'd never seen a zombie holding one before.
I watched for a few more minutes. She didn't notice me among the gas pumps, so I guess she was pretty far gone. Usually these zombies catch on to fresh meat pretty quick and come running for a quick meal.
I knew what I had to do. I knew I had to put her down before she drew more of her undead friends to the gas station. I drew my gun and stepped out from my hiding place to put the little bastard out of her misery. She noticed me and began that horrible noise they all make. It's usually a high pitched squeal, or a low, menacing growl. Without her lower jaw, though, it was more of a low gurgle that raised goose bumps on my arm. No matter how many of these things I put down, that sound still causes the the little hairs on my neck to stand up.
Then there's the eyes. They are usually yellow or red. The yellows are more common, but it's the rare reds that could be a problem. They're more violent and hungry, and will attack on sight. With Red-Eyes, you shoot first and run away quickly.
And you better hit them in the head. It's the only way to put them down. Just like in the movies. Sometimes that doesn't even work on the first try.
One of her eyes was gone; the other was yellow. She raised the arm without the doll and started dragging herself over to me, very slowly.
Sometimes these things can be pretty fast. I recall an incident with one a few weeks ago. It was a soccer mom, I think. I stumbled on her in another parking lot somewhere long ago. For a minute, I thought she was a survivor, until I saw her dead, yellow eyes and the fresh blood on her designer clothes. She had been feeding. Her victim was a younger girl, a teenager. I hoped it wasn't her daughter. Maybe her meal had been part of her carpool or something.
She was one of the fast ones. As soon as she saw me, she made an unholy shriek and ran in my direction. I was ready, and took her out with my rifle. It took two shots. I missed on the first, and hit her in the shoulder. The second shot got her right between the eyes. She was going so fast, she actually ran for a few more steps before falling. I put a bullet in her last meal too, just in case.
The little girl zombie at the gas station wasn't going anywhere fast. She could barely move under her own power. Besides her mangled right foot, most of the bones and muscles in her legs and lower extremities were either broken or missing. As I approached, I circled around her to assess the situation. The best she could do was turn slightly and moan. She was too far gone to be able to chase me.
The back of her head was mostly gone as well. How the hell was she still walking around? Some of these things can be tough customers. I've seen a few with missing limbs crawling on the ground to find their next meal. Others had the skin mostly peeled from their bodies, their skeletons exposed like a realistic Halloween costume. Sometimes, they're burned or crushed beyond recognition, but still walking around and feeding. Then there were the dogs.
Nobody figured that dogs could turn. They ate infected meat from the ones walking around, and then they turned into undead dogs. The turned dogs were always bad news. They're a hell of a lot faster, and they work in groups. It's good old-fashioned nightmare fuel. You must always avoid the dogs.
I followed the little girl zombie for a few seconds, getting ready to blow her rotting brains out. I also looked around to see if she was alone. I didn't want any of her undead buddies sneaking up on me. It was just her and me in this former gas station. A long time ago, people would stop here on the way to work to gas up their cars and continue on with their ordinary lives. Mom and Dad would fill up their coffee cups with inexpensive brew and the kids would buy their sugary snacks. Now the only remaining cars are the stripped hulks abandoned here when the fuel ran out. The coffee and sugary snacks are long gone. Mom and Dad and the kids are dead, or walking around feeding on the living as one big happy zombie family.
It really hurts to think about the old world, before it all went bad.
The little girl zombie stumbled, and fell at my feet. She reached for me in hunger. It might have been my imagination, but I almost saw her begging me to kill her and put her out of her misery. I put the gun up to her head. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, and that her perpetual nightmare was finally over. They are never grateful. They're just animals, living only to feed. I pulled the trigger, and her head exploded like an overripe melon.
Scratch another Yellow-Eye.
I turned my attention to the gas station. I took a quick look around to see if there are any more nasty surprises inside. You can never be too careful. Not in this new world.
The building was clear. The place, a virtual time capsule, was frozen at the exact time the stuff hit the fan. All the gas was, of course, gone. Also gone was most of the food and water. What was left was either spoiled and useless or spread on the ground. The floor was a macabre mixture of smashed food, garbage, and dried blood. A few spent shotgun shells were scattered on the black-and-white tiled floor. This place must have been a war zone when everybody tried to find safety. I could almost see the throng of people trying to buy or steal anything that wasn't tied down. The first few days of the outbreak were pure hell. I didn't find much: a few unopened bottles of water and a few batteries. Everything else was useless. The register was crammed full of old twenty dollar bills. Maybe someone could use them as toilet paper.
I found a few unopened packages of beef jerky near the cash register. Beef jerky is not my favorite, but you can't pass up a meal when it presents itself. I bit off a sizable portion, and started to chew. The dried meat was salty and felt a little like shoe leather in my mouth. I ignored the horrible taste, and swallowed. It went down hard, but the nourishment was welcome. I threw a few packages in my backpack. It might come in handy someday. I finished my little snack, and then started poking around the counter looking for more goodies.
I heard a noise behind me. Without thinking, I turned around with my handgun already drawn. All these weeks on the road running from the undead have honed my skills to a fine point. The slightest noise gets me ready for battle.
It's only a cat. I've drawn my weapon on a skinny, little gray cat with a big round face trying to eat a bloated sugar doughnut on the floor. One of its paws was mangled beyond repair. Like me, this little guy has had to struggle a bit to survive.
So far, all the cats that I have encountered have been normal. I bent down, and extended my hand palm up to show that I was friendly. The cat would have nothing of it, and arched its back. It showed its teeth and howled a little bit. I guess it had gone a little feral.
Okay, little fella. I'll leave you alone. Just to show him I wasn't a bad guy, I ripped a few pieces of beef jerky into bite-sized chunks, and dropped them in front of the cat's nose. Hunger overcame fear, and it pounced on the small meal like a playful kitten. Enjoy, little buddy. Maybe one day you can help me out of a jam. I waved goodbye to my little feline companion, and walked outside into the fading sunlight.
I thought about staying the night here. My legs and back were aching, and I could use a nice long rest. However, the little girl zombie may not have been alone. I decided to walk on down the road. When it gets dark, I'll find a place to bed down and rest. You do not want to travel at night. Things get much worse at night.
As a walked away from the gas station, I noticed the sign It said $3.58/gallon for regular unleaded. Not a bad price for gas during an apocalypse.
***************************
Available for sale in the Amazon Kindle bookstore. $2.99, or read for free with Kindle Unlimited.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CZLEYZE
*****************************************
Thanks for reading!
Sample: Sometimes We Ran 2
Chapter 1
One Year, and One Month After the Zombie Apocalypse
There are times during the zombie apocalypse when you must run.
This was one of those times. Me and my road companion, Claire, were now running for our lives from three very hungry Red-Eye zombies. We had been scrounging for supplies in an old store when we came upon a nest of about half a dozen of the dead bastards resting in the back room.
I pulled my gun and dispatched two. Claire took out one with her weapon of choice, an aluminum baseball bat. One good swing, and she caved its head in. Then, three more got caught in the door trying to chase us. Not wanting to be overrun, we took off, with the three monsters right behind us.
Now we were running at full speed down a dusty road with hell bearing down behind us. I shot a quick glance over my shoulder. The three zombies were just keeping up with us, neither falling behind or trying to catch up. Their plan was simple. They would wait for us to get exhausted, then they would pounce on us.
Then they would feed.
The road ahead had no cover. There weren't even any abandoned cars or buildings to duck into. The store we had been checking for supplies was the only structure around, and it was full of undead. There was simply no place to hide. Claire and I were surrounded by deep, foreboding forest. We would have to use the woods to escape. It was the only way out. I just hoped nothing else horrible lurked in the trees.
I looked at Claire. She was running at full speed with her head down, her small legs churning. As if she could read my mind, she looked up for some guidance on what to do next. I pointed toward the dark forest, and possible salvation. We turned in unison at the first gap, and headed into the trees.
Almost immediately, the sunlight dimmed and the temperature cooled. Warmer weather had returned a few weeks before and the afternoon temperatures were starting to climb a bit. The coolness of the forest was almost refreshing. I could smell the decaying leaves beneath our feet. I wished we could stop to enjoy it. I shot a fleeting glance backward to check on our pursers. They had followed us into the woods and were hell-bent on making us a meal.
I could feel myself getting tired. The chase was taking a toll on my middle-aged body. A slight numbing pain began to radiate from my legs and lower back. I sensed that Claire was beginning to fade as well. Even though she was half my age, a lack of food had left us a little weak from poor nutrition. I was tempted to tell her to run on and I'd catch up later. I knew full well that the Red-Eyes would surround me like a wounded deer and then eat me. Claire knew that too; she would never leave me behind.
It was time to fight.
I put on a burst of speed and cut off Claire. I grabbed her hand, and pulled her into a hiding place behind a large group of trees. We leaned back and made ourselves as small as possible.
“What are we doing?” Claire said, between huge gulps of air.
“We're not going to get away. We can't outrun them, and they won't get tired,” I said, trying to control my breathing.
I drew my handgun and peeked around the tree. A light breeze tickled the trees above me, causing the branches to sway and the leaves to make noise. The birds chirped happily, unaware of the drama unfolding below.
The three Red-Eyes stopped a few feet away. They seemed to be confused. They lifted their heads and sniffed the air in unison, trying to find us. Claire and I have found that the Red-Eyes had developed an excellent sense of smell and hearing. If Claire and I were quiet, we might have a chance to take them out.
Couldn't do much about masking our smell. Neither of us had a bath in a while.
I watched from our hiding place as the undead looked around. They slowly got closer to the tree. One of the trio caught a scent and ran off in another direction, disappearing into the woods and leaving the other two behind. The trio was now a pair. The odds were at least a little more in our favor.
One of the two remaining Red-Eyes began to approach the tree. The other one stood a few yards away, beating the bushes. I tensed and waited for my chance.
I turned to Claire. “Get ready to run,” I whispered. She nodded, and got her bat ready.
The nearest Red-Eye continued to sniff the air, and approach our hiding place. It was a young one, a teen-age girl who had been about fifteen or sixteen years old. She was tracking us, but hadn't seen us yet. She got close to the tree and began to walk around it looking down at the ground. It was time to counter-attack.
She looked up, and I put a bullet in her face. She screeched and fell down at my feet, dead. Her dying screams had alerted her companion, a young male in a tattered hospital gown. He hissed in my general direction and came at me. I got off another shot, but it hit him on the shoulder. It's very hard to shoot when you are running.
Claire had taken off at the first shot. She slowed a little so I could catch up to her, and we started to run again at full speed. The little break at the tree had done us good. Although not fully refreshed, we had both caught a second wind. My shot had slowed the last Red-Eye down. We might have a chance.
Claire ducked into the weeds and onto a gravel path in the woods and I followed. We ran a few yards into a power-line easement. The trees and brush had been clear-cut for huge metal towers to carry main transmission lines from some far away power plant. There was no cover.
“Dammit!...Sorry. Now what do we do?” Claire said.
I could hear our undead friend thrashing through the woods coming down the path. Soon it would be face-to-face with us. “Go wide. Stand over on that side. If he goes for you, kneecap him with the bat.” Claire often incapacitated our adversaries by slamming her bat into their knees.
“What about you?” she said, as she put some distance between us.
“I'll put a bullet in his head,” I said, getting ready for battle.
The Red-Eye broke into the clearing and stopped a few feet from our position. He stared at us both and sized up the situation. After a few seconds, he made a decision.
He started going after Claire: my one-hundred-and ten pound, five-foot-nothing, zombie- wrecking machine.
She didn't flinch, but stood her ground with her bat ready. The Red-Eye approached with foam dripping from the sides of his mouth, growling like some kind of mad dog. When he got close enough, he lunged. Claire was too small and too fast. She avoided his attack, and side stepped away from his reaching, greedy hands and flashing jaws. In one fluid motion, she swung down with the bat and made contact with his knees.
The zombie yelped and tumbled to the ground. The blow to the knees had done something to the joint, and he tried to crawl away from his ultimate fate. Now it was my turn.
I walked up, with gun in hand, preparing to put him out his misery. I aimed at the center of his head and started to pull the trigger. The undead monster flipped over on his back and raised his arms in self-defense. I paused at this strange behavior. The Red-Eye was on the ground with its hands in front of its face. I had never seen one behave like this. It knew it was going to die.
It almost acted alive.
“What are you waiting for, John? Kill it!” Claire yelled from behind me.
I pulled the trigger and put a bullet in its head. It slumped down to the gravel with a large hole in its forehead. Dark blood, black as night, began to leak onto the groomed gravel path.
“Why'd you hesitate?” Claire asked, brushing herself off.
I was still a little shocked by the zombie's behavior. It took a few seconds for me to answer. “Don't know.” I managed to say. “It put its hands up like it was begging for its life.”
Claire poked the corpse with her bat. “Yeah...I saw that too. Creepy.”
****************************************
Available for purchase in the Kindle bookstore. $2.99, or read for free with Kindle Unlimited.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HUGWWQC
Thanks for reading!
One Year, and One Month After the Zombie Apocalypse
There are times during the zombie apocalypse when you must run.
This was one of those times. Me and my road companion, Claire, were now running for our lives from three very hungry Red-Eye zombies. We had been scrounging for supplies in an old store when we came upon a nest of about half a dozen of the dead bastards resting in the back room.
I pulled my gun and dispatched two. Claire took out one with her weapon of choice, an aluminum baseball bat. One good swing, and she caved its head in. Then, three more got caught in the door trying to chase us. Not wanting to be overrun, we took off, with the three monsters right behind us.
Now we were running at full speed down a dusty road with hell bearing down behind us. I shot a quick glance over my shoulder. The three zombies were just keeping up with us, neither falling behind or trying to catch up. Their plan was simple. They would wait for us to get exhausted, then they would pounce on us.
Then they would feed.
The road ahead had no cover. There weren't even any abandoned cars or buildings to duck into. The store we had been checking for supplies was the only structure around, and it was full of undead. There was simply no place to hide. Claire and I were surrounded by deep, foreboding forest. We would have to use the woods to escape. It was the only way out. I just hoped nothing else horrible lurked in the trees.
I looked at Claire. She was running at full speed with her head down, her small legs churning. As if she could read my mind, she looked up for some guidance on what to do next. I pointed toward the dark forest, and possible salvation. We turned in unison at the first gap, and headed into the trees.
Almost immediately, the sunlight dimmed and the temperature cooled. Warmer weather had returned a few weeks before and the afternoon temperatures were starting to climb a bit. The coolness of the forest was almost refreshing. I could smell the decaying leaves beneath our feet. I wished we could stop to enjoy it. I shot a fleeting glance backward to check on our pursers. They had followed us into the woods and were hell-bent on making us a meal.
I could feel myself getting tired. The chase was taking a toll on my middle-aged body. A slight numbing pain began to radiate from my legs and lower back. I sensed that Claire was beginning to fade as well. Even though she was half my age, a lack of food had left us a little weak from poor nutrition. I was tempted to tell her to run on and I'd catch up later. I knew full well that the Red-Eyes would surround me like a wounded deer and then eat me. Claire knew that too; she would never leave me behind.
It was time to fight.
I put on a burst of speed and cut off Claire. I grabbed her hand, and pulled her into a hiding place behind a large group of trees. We leaned back and made ourselves as small as possible.
“What are we doing?” Claire said, between huge gulps of air.
“We're not going to get away. We can't outrun them, and they won't get tired,” I said, trying to control my breathing.
I drew my handgun and peeked around the tree. A light breeze tickled the trees above me, causing the branches to sway and the leaves to make noise. The birds chirped happily, unaware of the drama unfolding below.
The three Red-Eyes stopped a few feet away. They seemed to be confused. They lifted their heads and sniffed the air in unison, trying to find us. Claire and I have found that the Red-Eyes had developed an excellent sense of smell and hearing. If Claire and I were quiet, we might have a chance to take them out.
Couldn't do much about masking our smell. Neither of us had a bath in a while.
I watched from our hiding place as the undead looked around. They slowly got closer to the tree. One of the trio caught a scent and ran off in another direction, disappearing into the woods and leaving the other two behind. The trio was now a pair. The odds were at least a little more in our favor.
One of the two remaining Red-Eyes began to approach the tree. The other one stood a few yards away, beating the bushes. I tensed and waited for my chance.
I turned to Claire. “Get ready to run,” I whispered. She nodded, and got her bat ready.
The nearest Red-Eye continued to sniff the air, and approach our hiding place. It was a young one, a teen-age girl who had been about fifteen or sixteen years old. She was tracking us, but hadn't seen us yet. She got close to the tree and began to walk around it looking down at the ground. It was time to counter-attack.
She looked up, and I put a bullet in her face. She screeched and fell down at my feet, dead. Her dying screams had alerted her companion, a young male in a tattered hospital gown. He hissed in my general direction and came at me. I got off another shot, but it hit him on the shoulder. It's very hard to shoot when you are running.
Claire had taken off at the first shot. She slowed a little so I could catch up to her, and we started to run again at full speed. The little break at the tree had done us good. Although not fully refreshed, we had both caught a second wind. My shot had slowed the last Red-Eye down. We might have a chance.
Claire ducked into the weeds and onto a gravel path in the woods and I followed. We ran a few yards into a power-line easement. The trees and brush had been clear-cut for huge metal towers to carry main transmission lines from some far away power plant. There was no cover.
“Dammit!...Sorry. Now what do we do?” Claire said.
I could hear our undead friend thrashing through the woods coming down the path. Soon it would be face-to-face with us. “Go wide. Stand over on that side. If he goes for you, kneecap him with the bat.” Claire often incapacitated our adversaries by slamming her bat into their knees.
“What about you?” she said, as she put some distance between us.
“I'll put a bullet in his head,” I said, getting ready for battle.
The Red-Eye broke into the clearing and stopped a few feet from our position. He stared at us both and sized up the situation. After a few seconds, he made a decision.
He started going after Claire: my one-hundred-and ten pound, five-foot-nothing, zombie- wrecking machine.
She didn't flinch, but stood her ground with her bat ready. The Red-Eye approached with foam dripping from the sides of his mouth, growling like some kind of mad dog. When he got close enough, he lunged. Claire was too small and too fast. She avoided his attack, and side stepped away from his reaching, greedy hands and flashing jaws. In one fluid motion, she swung down with the bat and made contact with his knees.
The zombie yelped and tumbled to the ground. The blow to the knees had done something to the joint, and he tried to crawl away from his ultimate fate. Now it was my turn.
I walked up, with gun in hand, preparing to put him out his misery. I aimed at the center of his head and started to pull the trigger. The undead monster flipped over on his back and raised his arms in self-defense. I paused at this strange behavior. The Red-Eye was on the ground with its hands in front of its face. I had never seen one behave like this. It knew it was going to die.
It almost acted alive.
“What are you waiting for, John? Kill it!” Claire yelled from behind me.
I pulled the trigger and put a bullet in its head. It slumped down to the gravel with a large hole in its forehead. Dark blood, black as night, began to leak onto the groomed gravel path.
“Why'd you hesitate?” Claire asked, brushing herself off.
I was still a little shocked by the zombie's behavior. It took a few seconds for me to answer. “Don't know.” I managed to say. “It put its hands up like it was begging for its life.”
Claire poked the corpse with her bat. “Yeah...I saw that too. Creepy.”
****************************************
Available for purchase in the Kindle bookstore. $2.99, or read for free with Kindle Unlimited.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HUGWWQC
Thanks for reading!
"Where can I buy your book?"
People sometimes ask me where they can buy my book. After they ask, I usually stand there stammering like an idiot while I try to remember the particular link they need.
So here's a little list with a some commentary:
Amazon(Kindle): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CZLEYZE
Lets start with the biggie. Amazon is not fooling around with this book selling thing! 80% of sales are here. There is also a link to the paperback.
DriveThruFiction: http://www.drivethrufiction.com/produ...
I have a few sales here. Pretty neat site. I didn't see the "Activate Product" button for a few weeks, so SWR didn't even go up for sale for a while.(D'oh!). I have a paperback here as well, with a cool, black cover
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/somet...
Not much action here. I sold one in July. I think it will take a little more time.
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/eboo...
I have a ranking here, but no sales as yet. More time needed here as well.
Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id65...
I'm on Apple as well. No sales yet, but I'm hopeful some fans will find me.
Leanpub: http://Leanpub.com/SometimesWeRan
Where it all started. Leanpub created all my files, and did a great job. They also have a nice little storefront.
So you see, I think I have achieved full market penetration. I like the shotgun approach.:)
So here's a little list with a some commentary:
Amazon(Kindle): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CZLEYZE
Lets start with the biggie. Amazon is not fooling around with this book selling thing! 80% of sales are here. There is also a link to the paperback.
DriveThruFiction: http://www.drivethrufiction.com/produ...
I have a few sales here. Pretty neat site. I didn't see the "Activate Product" button for a few weeks, so SWR didn't even go up for sale for a while.(D'oh!). I have a paperback here as well, with a cool, black cover
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/somet...
Not much action here. I sold one in July. I think it will take a little more time.
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/eboo...
I have a ranking here, but no sales as yet. More time needed here as well.
Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id65...
I'm on Apple as well. No sales yet, but I'm hopeful some fans will find me.
Leanpub: http://Leanpub.com/SometimesWeRan
Where it all started. Leanpub created all my files, and did a great job. They also have a nice little storefront.
So you see, I think I have achieved full market penetration. I like the shotgun approach.:)
Shameless Self Promotion
Sometimes We Ran: A Story from the Zombie Apocalypse has been published for 90 days.
90 days ...Not a whole lot of time in the grand scheme of things. However, I feel like celebrating. So everyone don your party hats. Sometimes We Ran is now on sale for the low, low incredible price of $1.99. That's right ...you save a dollar. It's available for Kindle and NOOK.
But you better hurry. The sale ends Monday 8/26.
Shameless promotion ...done.:)
90 days ...Not a whole lot of time in the grand scheme of things. However, I feel like celebrating. So everyone don your party hats. Sometimes We Ran is now on sale for the low, low incredible price of $1.99. That's right ...you save a dollar. It's available for Kindle and NOOK.
But you better hurry. The sale ends Monday 8/26.
Shameless promotion ...done.:)
Sometimes We Ran 2 - The Grand Rollout has Begun!
Sometimes We Ran 2: Community has started to rollout to the sales channels! It is currently available on Amazon for your Kindle. Other ebook stores will follow.
Kindle link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HUGWWQC
NOOK, Kobo, and Apple will follow. DriveThruFiction will also be included in the fun.
And don't worry print lovers...a paper copy from CreateSpace is in the works.
I hope everyone enjoys the book. Keep reading everyone! Thanks zombie lovers.
Kindle link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HUGWWQC
NOOK, Kobo, and Apple will follow. DriveThruFiction will also be included in the fun.
And don't worry print lovers...a paper copy from CreateSpace is in the works.
I hope everyone enjoys the book. Keep reading everyone! Thanks zombie lovers.
End of the World Fiction
This is my fifth entry for the April A-Z blogging challenge. Today we look at the letter E-End of the World Fiction
“I'm Stephen Drivick and I am going to destroy the world.”
When I opened my Twitter account, this was going to be the first line of my profile. Then I chickened out, thought it was a little too cute, and changed it to something else.:)
When I was in high school, (in the 80's) the End of the World was serious business. They made us watch The Day After, and taught us how nuclear bombs worked in science class. They sent home actual disaster plans that included what to do in case of nuclear war. The Cold War was at its peak. The thought that the Russians could attack any day was a real, horrifying thought.
All this preoccupation with widespread destruction led me to apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic fiction. One of the first books I picked up in high school was The War of the Worlds By H.G. Wells. It was a little antiquated, but a really good read. Wells described a terrifying invasion of other worldly monsters in 1800's England. Man was hopeless against the attacks, and it takes a few germs to bring down the invaders. I still read it today on my Kindle. The description of the Martian death call in the empty confines of a dead city still raises goosebumps on my skin.
A few years later, I picked up Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank. This is the story of a fifties-style nuclear war and its effects on a rural Florida town. Again, a little antiquated but a very good read. It had a realistic view of survival, that ends with a community debating carrying out the death sentence on some bandits. Alas, Babylon had a great influence on the style of Sometimes We Ran.
And then there's The Road by Cormac McCarthy. It's a story of a father and his boy going south trying to escape an unspecified apocalypse. The book is chock full of disturbing images like cannibalism and coughing up blood, so it's not for the timid. Look past that, and it's a story of keeping your humanity in a world turned upside down. It's about surviving at all costs, and what lengths you would take to make it. No novel about the apocalypse before or since, I think, has influenced the genre more. The Road also has a permanent spot on my Kindle.
There are many other books about the End of the World that I have read. Some were pretty good, others descended into gore festivals with leather bikini clad women fighting over the last can of peaches. They've all been a pretty good romp through the genre. I don't know why people are fascinated with the End of the World. I imagine a real apocalypse would not be as much fun with all the death and all. At their heart, stories about the apocalypse and its aftermath are fun adventure tales. I think that it is the reason we all like them so much. I picked zombies to write about, and it has been kind of fun.:)
“I'm Stephen Drivick and I am going to destroy the world.”
When I opened my Twitter account, this was going to be the first line of my profile. Then I chickened out, thought it was a little too cute, and changed it to something else.:)
When I was in high school, (in the 80's) the End of the World was serious business. They made us watch The Day After, and taught us how nuclear bombs worked in science class. They sent home actual disaster plans that included what to do in case of nuclear war. The Cold War was at its peak. The thought that the Russians could attack any day was a real, horrifying thought.
All this preoccupation with widespread destruction led me to apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic fiction. One of the first books I picked up in high school was The War of the Worlds By H.G. Wells. It was a little antiquated, but a really good read. Wells described a terrifying invasion of other worldly monsters in 1800's England. Man was hopeless against the attacks, and it takes a few germs to bring down the invaders. I still read it today on my Kindle. The description of the Martian death call in the empty confines of a dead city still raises goosebumps on my skin.
A few years later, I picked up Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank. This is the story of a fifties-style nuclear war and its effects on a rural Florida town. Again, a little antiquated but a very good read. It had a realistic view of survival, that ends with a community debating carrying out the death sentence on some bandits. Alas, Babylon had a great influence on the style of Sometimes We Ran.
And then there's The Road by Cormac McCarthy. It's a story of a father and his boy going south trying to escape an unspecified apocalypse. The book is chock full of disturbing images like cannibalism and coughing up blood, so it's not for the timid. Look past that, and it's a story of keeping your humanity in a world turned upside down. It's about surviving at all costs, and what lengths you would take to make it. No novel about the apocalypse before or since, I think, has influenced the genre more. The Road also has a permanent spot on my Kindle.
There are many other books about the End of the World that I have read. Some were pretty good, others descended into gore festivals with leather bikini clad women fighting over the last can of peaches. They've all been a pretty good romp through the genre. I don't know why people are fascinated with the End of the World. I imagine a real apocalypse would not be as much fun with all the death and all. At their heart, stories about the apocalypse and its aftermath are fun adventure tales. I think that it is the reason we all like them so much. I picked zombies to write about, and it has been kind of fun.:)
Fantasy
This is my sixth entry for the April A-Z blogging challenge. Today we look at the letter F-Fantasy.
Sometimes it didn't pay to practice magic. It was too much trouble.
This was a line from a fantasy novel I attempted for National Novel Writing Month. You have to write a 50,000 word novel in thirty days to “win” the contest. I gave it a try, and found out one thing.
Writing fantasy is hard.
Perhaps it was the diet of Dungeons and Dragons, or maybe it was all the Adventure Time I had on my Kindle but I thought I could write a little fantasy, sword and sorcery novel. I had an idea about a young girl, a magic-user, going through a few adventures and winning the day. It seemed like a pretty solid idea.
I tried to get cute. I added a sarcastic, Monty Pythonish angle with snarky humor and a post-apocalyptic theme. In some places it worked really well, but in other places it made me cringe a little. I didn't get it, and I wrote it for goodness sake. I could imagine the return column on my Kindle Direct Publishing dashboard flipping around like a slot machine.
So I stopped working on my fantasy story, and I didn't win National Novel Writing Month. I may revisit it one day. I read it over a few days ago, and there's a few parts that made me chuckle.
To all those who write in the Fantasy/Sword and Sorcery genre, my hat is off. You guys write some amazing stories and you make it look easy. With a little reworking of my story maybe I'll join your ranks one day.
But it's going to take a lot of editing. Writing fantasy is hard ...at least for me.:)
Sometimes it didn't pay to practice magic. It was too much trouble.
This was a line from a fantasy novel I attempted for National Novel Writing Month. You have to write a 50,000 word novel in thirty days to “win” the contest. I gave it a try, and found out one thing.
Writing fantasy is hard.
Perhaps it was the diet of Dungeons and Dragons, or maybe it was all the Adventure Time I had on my Kindle but I thought I could write a little fantasy, sword and sorcery novel. I had an idea about a young girl, a magic-user, going through a few adventures and winning the day. It seemed like a pretty solid idea.
I tried to get cute. I added a sarcastic, Monty Pythonish angle with snarky humor and a post-apocalyptic theme. In some places it worked really well, but in other places it made me cringe a little. I didn't get it, and I wrote it for goodness sake. I could imagine the return column on my Kindle Direct Publishing dashboard flipping around like a slot machine.
So I stopped working on my fantasy story, and I didn't win National Novel Writing Month. I may revisit it one day. I read it over a few days ago, and there's a few parts that made me chuckle.
To all those who write in the Fantasy/Sword and Sorcery genre, my hat is off. You guys write some amazing stories and you make it look easy. With a little reworking of my story maybe I'll join your ranks one day.
But it's going to take a lot of editing. Writing fantasy is hard ...at least for me.:)
Kindle
This is my eleventh entry in the A-Z Blogging Challenge for April. Today we look at the letter K-Kindle.
I have always been an avid reader. It started with the little book fairs that schools used to have. I would always pick up a book or two.
All that reading created a problem. Books take up a lot of space, and I couldn't afford a library addition to the house. Having a garage sale every six months to unload books wasn't appealing either.
Enter the Kindle Fire. All the books you could ever want stored on a little seven-inch plastic rectangle. I could carry an entire library under my arm. I felt like Burgess Meredith from that Twilight Zone episode where he finds all the books after a nuclear war – and I didn't have to worry about an extra pair of glasses. The font size could be enlarged with a few swipes of my finger.
But wait, that wasn't all. There were magazines, movies, television shows to download. I could surf the web, check my email, play games, and view photos. I could even use it as a little second monitor for my computer. My Kindle Fire was the point of entry into a media empire.
I know some people still like the physical book, including me. In my opinion, the e-book will never replace the page. But an entire library in the palm of your hands? Pretty cool for a $200 device.:)
I have always been an avid reader. It started with the little book fairs that schools used to have. I would always pick up a book or two.
All that reading created a problem. Books take up a lot of space, and I couldn't afford a library addition to the house. Having a garage sale every six months to unload books wasn't appealing either.
Enter the Kindle Fire. All the books you could ever want stored on a little seven-inch plastic rectangle. I could carry an entire library under my arm. I felt like Burgess Meredith from that Twilight Zone episode where he finds all the books after a nuclear war – and I didn't have to worry about an extra pair of glasses. The font size could be enlarged with a few swipes of my finger.
But wait, that wasn't all. There were magazines, movies, television shows to download. I could surf the web, check my email, play games, and view photos. I could even use it as a little second monitor for my computer. My Kindle Fire was the point of entry into a media empire.
I know some people still like the physical book, including me. In my opinion, the e-book will never replace the page. But an entire library in the palm of your hands? Pretty cool for a $200 device.:)
Sometimes We Ran: A Story from the Zombie Apocalypse - One Year Later
It's hard to believe, but Sometimes We Ran has been in publication for one year.
One year ago, I was sitting at my computer gathering files and pushing buttons to get my creation on Amazon. Many questions went through my mind: Is what I wrote any good? Will people throw down their Kindles in disgust? Is my cover okay? Why is Amazon taking so long?
After sending all the files to the mighty 'Zon and answering all the questions, I was published. Twelve hours later, Sometimes We Ran was for sale.
I was at a car show when it went live on Amazon. I sat in my hotel room, and checked my sales for the first time. To my surprise, two sales had already shown up. A sense of relief washed over me. Even if I never sold another book, at least I sold one. :)
In the coming days, Sometimes We Ran would be sent to Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Apple. DriveThruFiction.com would get a copy as well. Then the promotion train started, and a new author entered the world.
Writing Sometimes We Ran was a rewarding experience. I learned many things in the late nights creating my story. It led to another zombie novel, Sometimes We Ran 2: Community, and my current work in progress, Sometimes We Ran 3: Rescue. I think it may lead to two more novels to complete the story of my characters.
The best part of all this is the fans. People actually bought the book, and said they liked what they read. Meeting and interacting with fans is pretty cool.:)
Sometimes We Ran is not a best- seller,(yet - fingers crossed) but that's okay. In time, it may sell a few more copies. I don't think that was the goal. Just getting the story out was what I wanted to do, and one year ago it happened.
And to all the people who took a chance on my first work ...Thank you, Zombie fans!:)
========================================
To celebrate, Sometimes We Ran: A Story from the Zombie Apocalypse will be 99 cents until Monday 5/26/14.
One year ago, I was sitting at my computer gathering files and pushing buttons to get my creation on Amazon. Many questions went through my mind: Is what I wrote any good? Will people throw down their Kindles in disgust? Is my cover okay? Why is Amazon taking so long?
After sending all the files to the mighty 'Zon and answering all the questions, I was published. Twelve hours later, Sometimes We Ran was for sale.
I was at a car show when it went live on Amazon. I sat in my hotel room, and checked my sales for the first time. To my surprise, two sales had already shown up. A sense of relief washed over me. Even if I never sold another book, at least I sold one. :)
In the coming days, Sometimes We Ran would be sent to Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Apple. DriveThruFiction.com would get a copy as well. Then the promotion train started, and a new author entered the world.
Writing Sometimes We Ran was a rewarding experience. I learned many things in the late nights creating my story. It led to another zombie novel, Sometimes We Ran 2: Community, and my current work in progress, Sometimes We Ran 3: Rescue. I think it may lead to two more novels to complete the story of my characters.
The best part of all this is the fans. People actually bought the book, and said they liked what they read. Meeting and interacting with fans is pretty cool.:)
Sometimes We Ran is not a best- seller,(yet - fingers crossed) but that's okay. In time, it may sell a few more copies. I don't think that was the goal. Just getting the story out was what I wanted to do, and one year ago it happened.
And to all the people who took a chance on my first work ...Thank you, Zombie fans!:)
========================================
To celebrate, Sometimes We Ran: A Story from the Zombie Apocalypse will be 99 cents until Monday 5/26/14.
It's Time Again.
Based on the Christmas decorations now showing up in the stores, it must be time for Halloween.:)
It's also time for some zombie-based book sales. I'm running a Halloween Kindle Countdown deal with Sometimes We Ran. Only 99 cents for a limited time.
Here is your link zombie fans:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CZLEYZE
Thanks, and Happy Halloween (or maybe early Christmas).
It's also time for some zombie-based book sales. I'm running a Halloween Kindle Countdown deal with Sometimes We Ran. Only 99 cents for a limited time.
Here is your link zombie fans:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CZLEYZE
Thanks, and Happy Halloween (or maybe early Christmas).
