Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse

by

Natasja Rose

Copyright ©2018 by Natasja Rose

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 978-0-6483926-2-

Parts of this work were originally published on Archive Of Our Own, under the pen-name Natasja, and in previous anthologies

Characters in this story are completely fictional. Any resemblance to real places, events, names or people is entirely coincidental, and no direct association should be inferred.

dedication

For Lyndal, who helped edit and provided amazing feedback, and for all of my amazing friends who ever debated how to survive a Zombie Apocalypse with me. Also, for whoever it was who tagged me in this particular prompt in the first place, since I have now completely forgotten who it was.

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Epilogue

Chapter One

No-one knew how the plague that turned the world into a dystopian zombie nightmare began.

Some said it was a communicable disease, transmittable through bodily fluids. Some said it was like rabies, passed on through a bite. Others claimed that it struck at random, and a few even that it was divine punishment.

In the end, how it began didn’t matter; the only concern was survival.

***

At first, all mention of a Zombie Apocalypse was met with a combination of giggles, eye-rolls and muttering about out-of-control hoaxes.

When an emergency broadcast went out in the middle of a Games Night, they took it a bit more seriously. Mary put down her cards - it had been a shit hand, anyway - and headed for the pantry. “Who do we know who lives outside the city and is unaffected?”

Trixie joined her in stuffing cans and long-life food into bags, calling over her shoulder to her husband. “Grab the toolkit and any seed packets we have, love, then call around.”

Kel headed out to the garage, taking Tim with him. “We’ll get the camping stuff, too.”

Bella looked up from her phone. “Steve and Alice are both in the clear, and as long as we’re willing to test to prove ourselves clean, issuing an open invitation. It’s a two-hour drive, but we can make it.”

Mary nodded, reaching for a replica sword that, while not top quality, would still work, and handed Bella a bow and quiver. “Let's go unload anything useless from the cars. We’ll want to get a move on.”

Trixie headed for the bedrooms where her children slept. “Let Kel know that we don’t need the pram, and to hitch up the trailer. Keep whatever sewing and weaving supplies you have living in there, too. We’ll need those soon enough.”

Bella grinned. “We just got a delivery of fabric. Plenty of wool and linen.”

Mary high-fived her. “And they said that my Living History interests would never come in useful.”

Tim scoffed, walking back in with an armful of propane cylinders. “Yeah, like the idiots whose grand plan is to shoot everything that moves and rely on loot drops would last a week without us.”

Little Meg came wandering out of her room, dressed in layers and rubbing her eyes. A wail and squeals of protest indicated that Jack was also awake and being changed. Mary scooped the little girl up. “Empty out your toy chest, honeybunch. We’re going to need the storage space.”

Chapter 2

An hour later, they were on the road in a mini-convoy, loaded down with fabric, gardening essentials, non-perishable food, camping stoves and gardening equipment. Mary had the car Bluetooth enabled, keeping in contact with the others. Three more cars and a truck had joined them on the way – other friends with the same idea.

Theo’s voice crackled across the speaker. “There’s a Bunnings coming up. Saph says that the website lists it as closed. Should we stop?”

Trixie had set up a conference call at the start of the trip. “If we have room, we could use more stuff for gardening and camping.”

Ed’s voice joined in. “We need to get a lot of that spray that protects the glass. Big gardening stakes and as much building material as we can hold, too. I say yes, but be careful.”

John’s voice settled the matter. “Everyone with kids and full cars, keep going. Everyone with space, branch off and keep together.”

Mary still had some room, and her 20- and 30-litre cooking pots could hold small things. She joined the Bunnings team.

***

The parking lot was deserted, the shop abandoned in enough of a hurry that the staff hadn’t done much more than lock the door. A bit of broken glass later, and Mary was trying to ignore the blaring alarms as she headed for the hardware section. Nails, hammers and saws went into her baskets, along with all the glue she could find.

A growl came from behind her, and she spun to see a shambling corpse, half-rotted already, slowly coming toward her. Mary screamed – the best she could do to warn the others – and grabbed a long-handled mallet, swinging it as hard as she could. Her aim was off, and she hit the neck, but it accomplished the task of sending the zombie’s head skimming down the aisle, and its body slumped in place. Mary shouldered the mallet and headed back to the entrance. What she had would need to be enough.

The others joined her, clutching their own supplies. They all scattered to the sides as Mike and Ida came flying down the front aisle from the Garden area. They were perched on laden trolleys, careening wildly but somehow staying upright. The check-out counter halted their flight with an unpleasant-sounding ‘crunch’, and Ida climbed down, looking shaken. “There’s a bunch of them out the back. Time’s up, we need to go.”

***

After commandeering one of the Bunnings delivery trucks, already mostly loaded when the zombies found them, it only took another hour after that to reach the two neighbouring farms that had been offered as a sanctuary. Located in sparsely-populated areas, there were larger towns nearby, but not for kilometres, and not so large that they would produce an insurmountable horde.

Mary had barely put the brakes on her car before she was surrounded by other survivors, helping her unload. Steve, the owner of the farm, submitted to a tight hug. “How are you at inventory? We need a group to start making lists.”

Mary grinned in a self-deprecating way, relieved. “Much better than I am at building things, plus I have spare notebooks and pens.”

One group of people were keeping the small children out of the way, while others were organising the increasing stockpiles of supplies. A third group were already working on a wall around the perimeter of the main property. Mary went to join the organisers, recognising several friends, leaving the random helpers to unpack.

Right, first, a list of everything they had, then divide and cross-reference that into categories. She handed out notebooks and pens. They could do this...

***

The wall wasn’t much, but it would stop any reanimated dead bodies from getting through. They could improve it in segments later.

With the immediate problem dealt with, they gathered in an impromptu council, to figure out the next step. Steve and Ali, as the property owners, headed the meeting. “Right, assets and short-term problems.”

Mary stood up, lists clutched in her hand. “We managed to clear out the lumber supplies of at least one Bunnings, so we have enough for the wall and probably at least one more building. We’d do best to look into brick production for that, though, to maximise our resources. We also cleaned them out of outdoor cooking equipment so we will be ok for a good while between when the power eventually goes out and if we manage to find a backup source.”

Someone up the back raised a hand. “I know how to install and set up solar panels if we can get our hands on a generator or two.”

Ali nodded, a smile of approval on her lips, her tense posture relaxing slightly. “That’s good, and a relief for those of us with C-PAP machines. What about the food situation?”

Mary nodded. “We have enough gardening supplies for a sustainable vegetable patch, a small crop field and orchard, and even some potted saplings, but I’ll leave explaining that to people who know more about gardening than I do. Those who had them also brought backyard chickens and rabbits, so we have a small supply of livestock, at least.”

She bit her lip. “Our biggest problem will be medical supplies. A lot of us grabbed their first-aid kits, but most of those are very basic. One-use ice packs, band-aids and bandages, that sort of thing. We’re going to need to hit up a pharmacy soon, particularly for those of us who take regular medications, and I have no idea of how the generators will hold up long-term for people who need C-PAP machines or cold-storage medications, on top of other energy requirements.”

That was a significant problem, they could all admit. Even the ones who had planned ahead hadn’t been able to risk going to a pharmacy to stock up on medications, and even those who had a surplus almost inevitably had a different dosage to everyone else who needed similar medication.

Steve grimaced. “So, at some point, we’re going to need to raid a pharmacy or hospital.”

Anne, a semi-local who was good at organising things, matched his expression. “Make it a pharmacy. Even if the hospitals aren’t already over-run, there’s too much risk of infection.”

Mary shook her head, “I wish we had a GP or something. Once we get the medications, they’re still a finite resource. We are going to need to figure out if we can safely adjust dosage or frequency or safe substitutes to ration out whatever we can get.”

Alice nodded again. “I think we have a retired RN or two. We’ll ask around and see what we can come up with.”

Someone whose name Mary didn’t know, or at least didn’t remember, raised a hand. “We saw an abandoned construction site on the way here. Do you know if that’s infested?”

Alice frowned. “It was at first, but they moved on when they ran out of living humans to infect. Why?”

The speaker, a young man with dark hair and a ready grin, caught a few other people’s eyes. “I have a heavy machinery license. If we nab a caterpillar plough and spend an hour or so protecting the glass, it’s pretty much a tank without the weaponry. We could go anywhere.”

Ed seconded the idea. “We might not go anywhere fast, but it’s virtually unassailable. Supply runs would become a possibility, rather than a potential death sentence. Everyone who has a similar licence, or experience using said equipment, meet up later. We’ll brainstorm a bit.”

It was a sound enough idea, but far from the end of the matter. “That still doesn’t solve our energy problem.”

Kel shrugged. “Get me the materials, and I can rig something up to modify generator capacity and output if we get enough solar panels. The issue will be the short term as we build up power reserves.” He glared at the sceptical looks aimed in his direction. “What? I’m an army engineer; it’s literally my job to rig things together to survive emergency situations and then blow them up afterwards!”

Mary couldn’t help a grin at the man who was her brother in all but blood. “Just hold off on the blowing up part. We don’t need to make it easier for the zombies.”

Bella, off to the side with Tim, raised her hand tentatively. “I know that no-one wants to discuss this, but we should talk about it and make a plan before it becomes an issue. We still don’t have clear any clear idea of how the Zombie pathogen spreads; what do we do if one of us becomes infected?”

There was a long silence. Another person whose name Mary didn’t remember, but who was one of their few medical professionals, spoke up. “I know it sounds cruel, but continuing as normal and hoping that it doesn’t spread is how we ended up with a Zombie Apocalypse in the first place. Our best bets are euthanasia or for the infected to leave and get as far away as possible before they succumb entirely.”

Wincing at the fact that she was even discussing the potential death of another human being, Mary shifted in her chair, trying to get comfortable. This was going to be a long debate and probably one with no truly good answers.

Chapter 3

It took a few months, a couple of minor health condition semi-emergencies, and several arguments over want vs need in terms of storage space, but they eventually had the miniature settlement up and running.

They had hit up every pharmacy and the medical section of every supermarket in a thirty-kilometre radius. Miraculously, most of them were fairly untouched by people focused on food. At the very least, they were stocked up on enough over-the-counter medications to last them a few years, and those who hadn’t yet hit menopause and still surfed the crimson tide every four-to-six weeks were in good supply for about as long. How long they had in terms of prescription medications would depend on how well they could be spaced out, but again, should last them for the immediate future.

Condoms had also been a priority. Their limited pool of medical people did not include midwives or OB/GYN specialists, and no-one wanted to deal with pregnancies without reliable pre- and post-natal care.

Every Bunnings, Hardware Store and Home Depo within a two-hour drive had suffered the same fate as the Pharmacies, though a number of them had already been looted by the smarter survivors who were presumably struggling somewhere out there. Still, they had enough materials to seriously consider expanding the wall again, and a few more dormitory buildings.

Camping was fun, but it wore on the older crowd after a while, and since the current dorms were reserved for people with medical needs, actual rooms for families with young children and people past their mid-thirties was becoming an issue.

***

Scouting and exploration were essential before they could lay any long-term plans.

Worst-case scenario, they stayed in the little settlement until they all died, but no-one was particularly keen on that. Besides, having only one plan was stupid, and they needed more information about what was going on in the outside world.

The heavy machinery drivers were sent out to nearby military bases and towns, trying to gather what information they could. The ones who had worked in hospitals or research joined forces with the tech geeks to see what they could discover about the virus.

In Mary’s opinion, it was a cause for celebration, if something of a Pyrrhic victory. The Zombie virus was asymptomatic for about ten days, and then accelerated quickly, but its ability to exist outside of a host was almost non-existent, and thus far, animals were unaffected. The virus burned through the host in a matter of weeks to months, then became non-virulent in a matter of hours, if not passed on during that symptomatic period.

Once it ran out of people to infect, the Zombie virus would die off. They just had to outlast it, and hope that they weren’t the only survivors.

Mary didn’t care if she was one of the few non-attached women in the settlement, she had neither the desire nor the obligation to sleep with anyone to repopulate the world, no matter how many people had thought the proposition worked as a foolproof pick-up line.

The discovery was not yet shared with the general populous; instead kept between the council. There was no need to cause panic or raise expectations before they had to, especially before they decided whether it counted as good news or bad. Mary, unsure how exactly it was bad news, stared around at the small group. “How, exactly, could the knowledge that this won’t last forever be bad news?”

Ed frowned at her. “Because it will essentially mean that we will probably be the only ones left, at least on this continent, with no way to seek out anyone else. We’ve basically been knocked back to the stone age in terms of international communication.”

Mary frowned. “Oh. But, some other groups might have done the same thing we did, right? Will said something the other day about spam-bots finally having a purpose in keeping the internet going, maybe we could get a message out?”

Steve considered it, “We have enough spare electricity to charge a device and see what happens, at least."

***

The clack of looms and spinning wheels was a near constant during the daylight hours, as was the sound of animals and the rustle of wind through the plants. It took some getting used to, but most of them had been city folk, used to background noise, and no-one was about to deny the necessity. Cloth was a necessity, as was the ability to sew by hand. There had been more important things to pack than a suitcase of clothes when they fled, and everyone was starting to look a touch threadbare.

Still, it was working. There was a rotating duty list, based on what people were good at and enjoyed doing. Meals were done in shifts, so as not to overcrowd the eating hall, one of three new structures that had been completed. A river ran nearby, just barely too far away to extend the wall, so they sunk wells instead. There was even a small patch of corn and wheat next to the vegetable and herb gardens, and a makeshift smoker to cure and dry meat.

Mary herself was currently in the kitchen, peeling and chopping ingredients for a stew. She looked up when a gaggle of teenagers raced in, all grinning broadly. “Come to the wall, you’ve got to see this!”

The cooks of the day exchanged glances, then put down what they were doing, banked the fire, and followed them out.

Mary caught up to Kay, the teen who usually acted as the ringleader, falling into step beside them. “What’s going on?”

They grinned and shook their head, refusing to answer. Mary flagged down the first wall guard she saw, Julie, who was wearing the full padded protective clothing of a fencer.

The armour was a sensible precaution, in case of Zombie attacks, as it was almost impossible to puncture, and covered the whole body. The Zombie Invasion was currently constrained to the cities, working through the larger populations before spreading out in search of new victims. Everyone agreed that it was pretty much just a matter of time.

Currently, Julie was leaning against a bulwark, a broad grin hidden behind her mesh fencing mask, but clearly audible in her voice. She gestured over the wall. “Check it out.”

Mary followed her gaze then blinked. She looked again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. “Did they really try to copy the truck from Mad Max?”

Julie laughed outright, waving a hand in the direction of the truck, currently parked and turned off to save fuel. “Apparently they did. I can’t wait to hear what they say when they get bored of waiting for me to ask what they want!”

Either they heard her, or the universe had a fantastic sense of ironic timing because someone finally poked their head out of the truck to yell up at them. “Hey, are you even alive up there?”

Steve and Alice were on their way over, having been fetched by another band of teenagers. They joined the two women already on the wall, followed by two more people in armour, both carrying large shields. Mary reached for a strung bow and a quiver of broadheads stored out of sight, just in case. Her archery had improved a lot since it became obvious that her life might actually depend on it one day, and she didn’t trust the decision-making skills of people who apparently thought that Hollywood Dystopia films were the ideal way of surviving a Zombie Apocalypse.

Steve called down at the visitors. “We’re alive, thanks for asking. What do you want?”

There was a slightly awkward pause. “We’re out of supplies. Everything left in the supermarkets was spoiled, and the clothing stores are either empty or infested, so our backup plans are out. Do you have anything to spare?”

Alice looked at Mary, who beckoned the nominal leaders in for a huddle behind the shields. “We have some food to spare, but not much, and I’d prefer to have it stockpiled for emergencies. My main concern is that if we give them anything, they’ll start treating us like a supply stop.”

If the band had been foolish enough to spend their energy tricking out a truck while assuming that supermarkets and other stores magically re-filled themselves, Mary doubted that they would actually have the common sense to settle down and build a safe house, rather than continuing to cruise around. Fortunately, the rest of them agreed. Steve stepped out and called down. “We can give you some seedlings and a rabbit or two, but you’ll have to cultivate them. We don’t have any ready supplies to give.”

There was a burst of angry muttering from the truck, before one of them shouted back, “That’s fine, we’ll just come in and check for ourselves!”

The two shield-holding guards rolled their eyes. “Mary, can you hit their tires from here?”

Mary scoffed, “With that big a target at this range? Easily. I hope they have an alternate mode of transport.”

It took only a few moments to aim. The first arrow missed, but skimmed under the truck and hit a tire on the opposite side, too much loud swearing. The next two hit their marks (and if those marks happened to be the tires beside the one Mary had originally aimed for, no-one else needed to know), and the tricked-out truck came to a very abrupt halt.

By that point, several more archers had arrived, including some who were former military. “You might want to turn around while you still can, boys. Your odds aren’t looking too great from up here."

There was a lot more swearing, most of it aimed at ‘cowards who would last five seconds in a fair fight’. (Yes, and that was why Mary preferred long-distance.) There was also a fair bit of speculation on her immediate ancestry, which only brought laughter from the defenders on the wall. Slowly, the truck bumped away in the direction of the main road.

Mary put the bow back, trying not to let the slight trembling in her hands show as she flexed her fingers. Shooting without finger protection wasn’t fun. “Can we have another meeting as soon as possible? I think we need a solid plan of what to do next time survivors turn up."

Chapter 4

Council meetings were rare, mostly due to the lack of need. Until now, they had mostly involved logistics or strategy for supply trips.

This Council had been called for a different and, in some ways, an even more important reason.

Also unlike the other councils, the settlement was far more divided. Ed, to use an example, looked ready to punch something. Or possibly someone. “Look, I know it sounds harsh, but we have limited space and limited resources, and I don’t want to waste it on morons who think they’re in a video game and will probably go haring off again with everything they can carry!”

If the morons from earlier in the day were any indication of ‘typical’ survivors, Mary couldn’t agree more. Trixie, having left Meg and Jack with the other small children, disagreed with him. “While I agree in principle, what about the ones who are just seeking shelter and are willing to join and pull their weight? Can we condemn those people to death just because they weren’t as lucky as us?”

It was an opinion shared by most of those who hadn’t been present or heard the fine details of the altercation with the Mad Max-wannabes of yesterday. Again, Mary agreed, if those survivors were typical. They had the resources to take in what were essentially refugees, but not to act as a base to wage a hopeless war.

For now, there were just too many unknown variables for her to form a solid opinion. “It isn’t technically their fault that they are totally unprepared for an Apocalypse. I say that we screen them for the virus, like the rest of us were, and see if they’re willing to pull their weight. We do have a bunch of skill-gaps, and more manpower would let us carry out some of the expansions we were planning.”

Someone else - Mary really needed to get better at remembering the names of people she rarely interacted with - shook their heads. “What if they refuse to contribute? The more people we let in, the more problems they bring with them. Arriving here doesn’t mean that they have the skills that we need, or that they’ll ever pick them up.”

Alice looked torn, but stern. “Same rule as everyone else: they contribute, unless they have some impairment that prevents them from doing so, or they leave. Skills can be taught, and we have plenty of unskilled jobs that need doing, which will free the skilled ones up for other tasks.”

Kel raised a hand, “What about the ones trying to re-enact World War Z or Mad Max or Dawn of the Dead? Somehow, I don’t think that they’ll be all too interested in settling down and learning survival skills.”

Ed, a former army trainer, agreed. “They’re like the rookies who think that everything’s going to be a blaze of glory, and wash out in months when they realise that Hollywood and Real Life don’t match up.”

Alice sighed heavily. “Case by case basis. If they’re willing to change and learn, they can stay. Keep a watch on them until we can confirm that they aren’t faking it. Anyone set on a ‘heroic’ demise can do it as far away from here as possible."

***

The timing of their last council turned out to be perfect because it was barely a week before the first group of survivors showed up.

They were on foot, between fifteen and a dozen of them (two wore what looked like baby-carriers, but it was hard to tell at a distance) with the bedraggled and gaunt appearance of people who had spent a long time living rough, without the quality and volume of food they were accustomed to. Much like the last time, Mary, Alice and Steve were summoned to the gate to talk.

Alice leaned out over the wall. “So, why are you here and how did you find us?"

The leader made a small motion that was probably a shrug. “We heard a bunch of zombie-hunter wannabes complaining about you. Figured that anyone who sent them packing was probably operating off common sense and more survival skills than we have.”

There was a chorus of sniggers from the populace eavesdropping on the ground below. Steve did his best to ignore them. “Ground rules are: Don’t be a jerk to anyone, don’t cause unnecessary paperwork, and everyone pitches in to keep things running. We can teach you what you don’t know, but you are expected to contribute. Also, being screened for the virus is a non-negotiable condition.”

It had been a struggle to come up with a reliable way to test for the zombie virus. Then some of the tech geeks had picked up a couple of diabetes testing kits during a pharmacy raid (along with a zombie appendage - they had been cagey about exactly which one) and taken over a shed at the neighbouring farm to run some experiments under the supervision of a former lab scientist. It kept the forge busy making one-use needles, giving Mary yet another thing to keep track of, but it allowed them to test the populace once a month.

Fortunately, there had not yet been a need to determine what to do if someone tested positive.

Outside the gate, the leader nodded. “That’s fair. We’ve got LGBTQ people in the group, including a couple of Trans People. Are they also welcome?”

Mary could almost hear Morgan, a Trans woman currently taking a shift as wall guard, roll her eyes. Ruben, who had been named Ruby at birth and chose a name similar to his assigned one to avoid confusion, and the non-binary Jay, both also on duty, elbowed her. As though a zombie apocalypse was going to change the fact that their group was at least half LGBTQ, from Aro/Ace to Gender-fluid and everything in between. It might not come up in everyday conversation (Mary’s Queer-dar was non-existent, resulting in several awkward situations of asking out someone who turned out to be gay, or one painfully straight person who hadn’t realised they came off as flirting with her), but Queer-phobia was one of the few problems their small community didn’t need to worry about.

Fortunately, Steve answered before Mary or Morgan could open their mouths. “Join the club, so do we. We ran out of hormone medications a month or so ago, but if you’re ok without those, there won’t be a problem.”

Mary turned to climb down. “I’ll get the testing kits and the sharps container. I’ll meet you in Quarantine.”

Chapter 5

Most of the refugees passed the required zombie virus screening.

Two didn’t.

The fourteen who were cleared were lead away to be introduced to the rest of the colony, while Mary held a quick conference with Steve, Alice and what passed for their Head of Security and Head Doctor. To her frustration and familiarity - Mary tended to go non-verbal during extreme distress - it took a while for the words to come, moments during which the rest of the room just stared expectantly at her.

Finally, Mary forced herself to stop twisting her skirt in her hands and twining her long braid through her fingers. “Damnit. We knew this would happen at some point, and we know what we have to do, but it’s so much harder now that it’s an actual thing, rather than just a theory.”

Alice and Fionna, the Head Doctor who had spent a large portion of her career in Palliative Care, both patted her on the arms from where they sat. “It always is. The important thing is, how do we break the news? They’ve come this far and thought that they were finally safe; that’s always the worst kind to deal with because they’re the most reluctant to accept that it’s happening.”

Mary lifted a hand to her braid again, before she noticed what she was doing and forced it back down. “Give it to them straight out? I’d want to know without a bunch of hedging around the subject.”

Alice patted her shoulder again. “You would, but not everyone does. Fionna, can you handle it with us backing you up? It’s your authority they’ll be questioning, in the end, and you probably have the most experience.”

Fionna seriously considered the question, and then nodded. “If they fight us on this, we tell them that they are welcome to go with the infected and find somewhere else to take them in. We’re sorry that this is the case, but we won’t risk everyone for the sake of two.”

Steve stood up, signalling the end of the meeting. “Mary, will you fetch the cleared and bring them to the connecting room to Quarantine? We’ll handle the rest and give you the final numbers to be settled in.”

Mary nodded and all but fled to carry out the task, relieved that someone else would be handling that part.

She managed to stay quiet while the cleared pestered her with questions, feigning distraction as she checked the internet pages where they had posted news of survival. The tech geeks had put together schematics for the modified diabetes tester and a few other essential adapted items, and Mary uploaded that to the various Social Media sites and webmail groups. Even if they were the only organised group of survivors, perhaps someone in the world would find it of use. Reblog to save a life had never seemed more accurate.

Leaving the newcomers at the Quarantine bay, she searched for something else to do that would allow her to avoid people. Inventory and checking stock. Numbers and statistics made sense and didn't react in unpredictable ways. She headed to take a look at the storeroom, hoping it would soothe her anxious state.

Some tents had been packed away in the store-room now that the dorms had been completed. At two or three to a family-sized tent (screw what the marketing said, a dome barely big enough to stand up in was NOT a 4-person tent), they would still have a few left over. Perhaps she should look into the possibility of a logging team. They needed to expand the boundaries anyway, and more dorms and possibly a dedicated kitchen building could only be to the benefit. They needed more bark to do another round with the smoker, anyway, and more timber for building. An alternate source for arrow shafts was worth looking into, as well...

***

Mary emerged from the storeroom much calmer than she had entered, which turned out to be a good thing because the first person she ran into was a seething Fionna.

Like most experienced Nurses, she had a lot of patience for people struggling with a bad diagnosis but didn’t suffer entitled fools gladly. What on earth had the newcomers said to get this reaction? “Oh, dear. Are you ok?”

Obviously, Fionna wasn’t, but Mary had a set formula for social interaction, and the sentiment was real. Fionna growled at the no-longer-present person who had irritated her but softened at Mary’s genuine concern. It was nice to have friends who understood. “They weren’t happy, but the two infected didn’t seem at all surprised when we told them. The other newcomers were all trying to ask if there was a solution until the infected said that they had known for a while but hadn’t said anything. Then it just devolved into shouting and drama. Good thing the Quarantine barrier was in the way, or it may have got physical.”

Ouch. Mary winced sympathetically. “Well, hopefully, the Drama Llamas will calm down when they realised that no-one else is interested in turning life into a soap opera. The infected are on their way again?”

Fionna nodded, a glimmer of old sorrow in her eyes. “Yes, and there will be a meeting in a few hours, just in case refugees aren’t the only ones those Mad Max Morons told about us.”

Oh, wonderful. There went another thing Mary had hoped that she would never have to deal with: Battle plans to fight other humans in an actual life-or-death situation. “Is there any good news?”

She winced at the plaintive, almost whiny, note in her voice, but Fionna actually cheered up a little. “It looks like the lack of higher brain functions in the Infected is having unexpected benefits. Most of the strongest concentrations are in hospitals, army bases, emergency shelters and quarantine centres. They all got put into lock-down when the warning went out, and the Zombies either don’t have the clearance or don’t have the functionality, to get out again.”

That was good news, at least for the survivors. “So they’ll burn out in a contained area, and heavily decreases the ones that we will eventually have to deal with."

***

As it turned out, the original group who thought they were in a Mad Max movie had found good company in two more groups who seemed to be hoping for a Walking Dead scenario, and a few stragglers that had at least half of the settlement making Supernatural references between giggling fits.

(The fanfiction shipping argument that ensured less than five minutes later nearly came to a brawl, but at least lifted the overlying tension. There was a comforting familiarity in listening to your friends argue about the sexual orientation and relationships of fictional characters.)

The downside was that all of the would-be-action-heroes had apparently agreed on a temporary truce in order to ‘lay siege' to the settlement in the name of saving the world. Fortunately, they were still relying on Hollywood tactics and hadn’t even bothered to cover up the assorted vehicles they had arrived in. The settlement, filled with at least a dozen ex-service members and even more who had made an extensive study of military history, had to pick themselves up from where they were sprawled on the ground laughing before they could even start to plan.

There were still sporadic giggling fits when they finally collected themselves. Ben, one of the top smiths, leaned against a wall. “We can have the forges fired up, and a bunch of spikes and caltrops finished in a few hours. Then it’s just a matter of distribution. Vehicles with busted tires won’t be going anywhere.”

A few of the ex-military, Kel included, were practically bouncing in place. “We can build a trebuchet! Please, can we build a trebuchet?”

Mary exchanged looks with Trixie behind his back, the exasperated tolerance of a wife and a sister commiserating. Nearby, a group of teens perked up in support, “We’ve got all those leftover stones from when we were building the foundations. Please?”

Mary sighed as all eyes turned to her. “If we go through with the logging plan after we chase these idiots off, we can afford to spare the materials.”

A cheer spread through the room, and Mary tried not to roll her eyes. Overgrown children, the lot of them.

Chapter 6

The attackers started to form up into actual, honest-to-deity lines at high noon, just as the trebuchet was being loaded.

Lookouts were posted on the walls, and armoured fighters were geared up and being menaced into staying hydrated by kitchen volunteers armed with water jugs and plant misters. Archers were preparing just below the wall, their arrows tipped with blocks of wood wrapped in a thin layer of cloth, rather than valuable metal. The arrowheads would stun, possibly fracture, and certainly need a nasty bruise, but were unlikely to be fatal. Despite the inconvenience of the would-be invaders, none of the settlement actually wanted to kill the pests.

They’d be forced to do that soon enough with the Zombies, and no-one wanted a head-start.

It was times like this that Mary was especially glad for her country’s gun laws: having to keep guns and ammo separate, under lock and key, and the requirement to prove your need for one meant that very few of the attacking force actually had guns, and those that did were either very short on ammunition, or saving it for the Zombies.

***

The spikes had been hidden in the long grass, the caltrops scattered across the road leading to the settlement. Several of the faster runners had gone out in the soft light of dawn to plant them, then hurried back behind the gates before the would-be besiegers were awake enough to notice the activity.

Small children and the younger teenagers had been firmly escorted to the original house, with a few caretakers to keep them occupied and make sure no-one tried to sneak out. Mary, grouped with the other archers, did not envy the caretakers. Better to be risking life and limb out here, than her sanity in there.

A loud whistle, three notes ascending, echoed around the settlement, a warning that the attack seemed to be starting. An answering whistle came from other parts of the wall, as the vehicles tried to circle around for a multi-angled attack. Jay, standing beside Mary, smirked and elbowed her, muttering under their breath, “Looks like some of them were paying attention during the action movies.”

Mary giggled. “Too bad they didn’t have any group discussions about how to counter them. I remember getting kicked out of the 300 sequel for a discussion of accuracy and tactics that nearly turned into a brawl.”

Their amusement vanished when there was a shout from the wall top. “Archers to the wall!”

They swarmed up the stairs and took positions, watching as the first of the vehicles hit the traps. Several loud bangs, followed by loud swearing and trucks or vans careening off course as their tires were punctured.

There was the sound of the trebuchet firing, and Mary felt a brief pang of disappointment that it was in a different direction to her section of the wall. The swoosh sound of a missile was followed by a loud crunch that Mary fervently hoped was one of the vehicles. The Mad Max truck had gone in that direction, and Kel had been muttering about wanting to crush it on principle. Mary had decided that it wasn’t worth asking.

Would-be besiegers emerged from the downed vehicles, some of them clutching compound bows. Mary, admittedly something of a bow-snob, lifted her Hungarian Recurve, designed for a cavalry shooting from horseback. “Aim for the training wheels, and the archer’s arms.”

Compound bows had pulley wheels at the top and bottom for an easier draw, referred to as ‘top of the line’ by those who used a compound bow, and derisively as ‘training wheels’ by nearly everyone else. Take out the wheels, and drawing the bow would be nearly impossible, or at the very least, the power behind a shot would be reduced to almost nothing. Injure an archer’s arms, and even if they could continue shooting, they wouldn’t be very good at it.

Besides, the archers in the settlement had practised for months to years to decades. The attackers looked like they had raided a sporting store and taken whatever looked the most impressive. They also had no sense of cohesion, and half of them had already wasted at least one arrow by nocking it incorrectly and doing themselves an injury.

One of the armoured fighters, currently standing safely behind the archers, sniggered. “Too much Robin Hood, not enough Lord of the Rings.”

Effective armour was unisex, but the voice suggested female. An older man, who held his bow with the ease of long practice, frowned at both of them. “That’s a good thing, at least for us. Imagine if they were actually competent.”

He joined the more advanced archers, standing together in a huddle, aiming for the compound bows and archers as instructed. It was hard to follow the individual arrows, but from the various cries and the number of archers who either dropped their bows or swore creatively when the discovered the malfunction, the tactic had worked.

Most of the attacking archers promptly joined the lines, now also bolstered by the people who had been driving the assortment of now-disabled vehicles. The armoured fighter shrugged philosophically and raised her voice. “Archers, nock! Draw! Loose!”

There was a reason that the English Longbow archers had once been the most effective fighting force in the world. With a mass of archers shooting at once, the majority of arrows were bound to hit something, and they did. Many of the arrowheads shattered on impact, peppering the attacking force with splinters. Mary couldn’t help a sympathetic wince or two, wondering if the ones who had dropped to the ground in pain had been victims of chance, or if she had kept her tendency toward unintentional box-shots. Up and down the line, most of the male archers were echoing her reaction. Most of the female ones looked vindictive.

Anyone with sense would have called off their attack until they found something that could be used as effective shields. These attackers were not so sensible, and broke into a run, charging the wall directly.

The fighter directing the archers scoffed. “Fire at will! Stop when they’re within kill range of the wall!”

‘Kill range’ was fifteen feet, or five meters, the point at which an archer could not reload and shoot before a charging armoured fighter reached them. Only about half of the would-be attackers reached the base of the wall, most of them limping, and promptly discovered that without ladders or ropes, they had no way of getting up a structure that was about three times their height, and lacked handholds. Some tried to form a human pyramid, only to discover that a quick shove with a shield or a spear or sword strike to the face or midsection sent them tumbling down again. The weapons available to the Settlement might have been little more than re-enforced wood, but they had the same weight and blunt force impact of the real thing, if not the sharp edges. It was more than enough to send an un-armoured opponent staggering, and when that opponent didn’t have a solid surface to stagger back onto... well, they didn’t get back up in a hurry.

***

The battle was over in half an hour, roughly the standard for skirmishes. Wars might have lasted for years, but the actual fighting part comprised a fairly minuscule part of that time. The War of the Roses had lasted roughly thirty-two years. The actual pitched battles had comprised roughly three weeks.

The defenders waited for an extra half-hour or so to make sure that it wasn’t a trap, then engaged in a shouting match with the Mad Max crew, who had apparently appointed themselves the leaders, to negotiate surrender.

Mary unstrung her bow, wondering at the vague feeling of disappointment that she felt, and saw reflected in several other faces. She nudged Bella, standing beside her. “Is it me, or was that kind of a let-down?”

Bella looked startled, then relieved. She shrugged. “I guess there was just so much build-up to the whole thing that we expected more of a fight.”

That made sense and Mary was grateful that someone had managed to put it into words. “I suppose that we’ve all been wishing for an outlet, cooped up here, and this was our best chance.”

Ruby, following a few other archers toward the stairs to put the weaponry away, made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “Well, better a let-down than being over-run and actually losing the fight. Come on, the medical staff are going to be seriously overwhelmed if they have to patch this lot up as well.”

Epilogue

Injuries from the battle were scattered and mostly minor, but widespread.

The majority had been gained by accident, like the few who had rushed down the stairs and tripped, or Mary’s arm, painful and sporting a massive, puffy bruise where she had over-extended her elbow and snapped herself with her bowstring. Several of the people manning the trebuchets had rope burns or the occasional strain where they had pulled a bit too enthusiastically.

Still, no one had died or been infected, and the attackers, now rather more subdued for having been thoroughly trounced, were being held in a well-ventilated shipping container until they decided what to do with them. That discussion was being delayed until the more immediate problems were dealt with.

Cooling their heads in confinement might do the idiots some good, as far as the Settlement was concerned.

***

Mary was having her arm checked when one of the younger teens, who had been kept well away from any fighting, came running up. “Mary! Mary, come quick! You have to see this!”

Mary groaned; the idea of having to do anything right at this moment complete anathema to her. Surely, whatever it was could wait a little? Before she could say as such, another child joined the teen. “We were watching the web, and there are new notifications! Someone commented on the Survivor post!”

Mary bolted upright and hurried toward them. “Go find Will and bring him, please. We need to check this out.”

Hopefully, it wasn’t another spam-bot, or a false alarm, or someone infected but not yet succumbed, or... or, or, or. Mary sat down with the iPad that was their sole source of electronic communication and began to look for the obvious signs of spam. Will joined her quickly, searching for the less obvious ones. Other than the usual typos and auto-corrects common when texting on a small screen, there were none.

‘We were trialling the ships we built for an ocean voyage, and weer about to return when we got the warnig. Found empty, privately owned a toll. Trying to establish contact with home, mini success.’

They exchanged excited glances, almost daring to hope, and clicked on the attached file. It opened to a video clip of several scattered huts on a small island that Mary thought she recognised from a “Reality” TV show, and what looked like two Viking longships and a waʻa kaulua, a Polynesian seafaring vessel, moored nearby. There was no audio, but the camera scanned over a beachfront with what had to be several dozen people grouped together. From what they could see (which was a lot, lack of fleece and having not quite worked out the use of native plant fibre was clearly a problem), none of them were suffering symptoms of the Virus.

Finally, Will sat back. “It’s genuine. They got out in time. We’re not the only ones.”

Mary’s face split into a grin, and she threw her arms around him impulsively. He looked surprised, but not displeased, hands resting lightly around her shoulders as Mary pulled away. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear shyly and clambered to her feet. “A new start, in a new world.”

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Natasja has been writing since a very young age, though those notebooks have been lost in the Old Schoolbooks Cupboard and (hopefully) will never see the light of day.

Most of her stories, published or otherwise, began life as conversations with friends that sparked an idea that grew into a story or poem.

Her publishing adventures started with poems and short stories in focus newsletters like ABA and AMBA, and online sites like Readwave, NaNoWriMo and FictionPress, before finally taking a chance with self-publishing.

Some of her books have been nominated for BookViral’s Crimson Quill award.

Natasja Rose lives and works in Sydney, Australia, but travels whenever she can afford it and has the time.

Her greatest wish is to visit all the places in the world that inspired her writing as a child, and create new stories for new inspirations.

 The Highwayman’s Legacy

Being a Psychic sucks.

It would probably be worse if Tina Barnes had to listen to every random thought that crossed people’s mind, but witnessing the death of every person who died in a spectacularly gory fashion is no picnic, either. Being on a tour of Historically Significant (read: haunted) locations isn’t really helping.

Oh, and did she mention the supernatural soap opera of two ghosts possessing random people in their bid for a Happily Ever After that usually ends with the hosts dying?

Because that’s happening, too.

In a chilling tale of ghostly romance, friendship and fed-up psychics, what was meant to be a normal holiday tour takes a potentially deadly turn into a race against time.

Book One of Ghostly Travels

Available in Kindle ebook and Paperback

Eternity’s Invitation

Dealing with her best friend being possessed by the ghost of a star-crossed lover was just the beginning.

Returning to a place where she swore she would never set foot again, Tina Barnes is once again dragged kicking and screaming into the realm of the Supernatural.

At least she has company this time.

In the gripping sequel to 'The Highwayman's Legacy', re-join the usual suspects in a series of ghostly murders that have nothing to do with star-crossed lovers....

And everything to do with destroying anyone who has the potential to stop them.

Book Two of Ghostly Travels

Available in Kindle ebook and Paperback

All You Can Be

Living With Aspergers, by Aspies and those who love them

Asperger's Syndrome affects different people in different ways, from Aspies themselves, to people who have friends or family with the condition.

This is a collection of stories and anecdotes, ranging from the good things about being Aspie, to common coping strategies, to media misrepresentation and how it affects people of all ages and backgrounds.

Being Aspie is far from being all fun and games, but there are definitely far worse things to be.

Available in Kindle ebook and Paperback

All That We Are

The Asexuality Spectrum, or Love Without Sex

We live in a very sexualised society, where sex without love is common, but love without sex seems to shock people. 

In this book, we will discuss the spectrum of Asexuality, as viewed by the people who live it. This is a collection of anecdotes, ranging from discovering your sexuality, to common misconceptions and prejudice, and basic definitions of the different terms 

Being diverse might come with its problems, but what's the point if you can't be yourself?

Available in Kindle ebook and Paperback

The Lost Collection

A place for my poems, short stories and other things that didn't quite merit a book of their own.

You will find short plays for all ages, parody songs, fictional monologues for historical figures, and much more.

Read about Boudicca of the Iceni and the Nika Riots, the woes of an average schoolgirl, the best way to derail a science vs theology debate, and what happens when nursery rhymes go bad.

Whether laughing at comedy or crying over tragedy, this anthology will keep you entertained through to the end.

Available in Kindle ebook and Paperback

The Temporarily-Misplaced Collection

More Short Stories, interspaced here and there with the occasional monologue and poem, that didn't quite make it into novels of their own.

Some of them might at a later date, but for now, you can read them here. 

Read about the Adventures of Codename Granny, the origins of mermaids, space exploration that doesn't quite go as planned, and reincarnated soulmates that don't always end in Happily Ever After. 

A sequel, of sorts, to 'The Lost Collection’.

Available in Kindle Ebook and Paperback

The Writing Prompt Collection

Short stories, plus the occasional monologue and poem, inspired by writing prompts.

Read about the night-time protectors, a different take on the gingerbread witch, which industry the Millennial Generation is killing this time, and how to REALLY say it with flowers.

A fun read that will have you laughing, crying and groaning by turns, The Writing Prompt Collection is the latest in a series of Anthologies by Natasja Rose.

Available in Kindle Ebook and Paperback

Cinderella Grows A Spine

Cinderella didn't know exactly what prompted her to break free of the cycle of abuse from her step-mother, but one thing was certain: nothing is ever accomplished by waiting for someone else to magically fix things.

After all, Cinderella was a pretty, educated young lady of high birth and good breeding, and her Step-mother didn't control the world, no matter what the woman thought.

It wasn't like she didn't have options...

In a delightful reinvention of the classic fairytale, Cinderella takes charge of her own destiny, and through the power of friendship, courage and liberal applications of common sense, finds her own Happily Ever After

Book One of Timeless Tales, Modern Morals

Available in Kindle ebook and Paperback

Snow White Learns Stranger Danger

People in Fairytales are far too trusting. But what if they weren’t?

Snow White learned at a young age that not everyone has good intentions, and that being a Princess didn't mean that everyone loved her.

There were people who were kind without expecting anything in return, and there probably were old beggar-women who were happy to repay a good deed, but this one was far too insistent about being allowed into the house.

In a unique re-imagining of the Classic Fairytale, Snow White learns the value of friendship, sensible precautions, and a good cast-iron skillet.

Sequel to 'Cinderella Grows a Spine’.

Book One of Timeless Tales, Modern Morals

Available in Kindle ebook and Paperback

Red Riding Hood and the Stalker

Appearances can be deceiving, but a person’s true nature is impossible to fully hide.

Ruby was getting very, very sick of having to hide out at her grandmothers because it was the only place Adrian Wolfe wouldn't follow her. Really, hadn't anyone ever told him that Stalking was not romantic, and that no means no?

A retelling of 'Little Red Riding Hood', in which Stalking because you "can't stay away" is a giant red flag, and the Big Bad Wolf isn't quite so obviously a Villain. Sequel to 'Snow White Learns Stranger Danger'.

Book Three of Timeless Tales, Modern Morals

Available in Kindle ebook and Paperback

Beautiful, Inside and Out

What do you do when your arrogance and pride leaves you alone in the world? Some people lash out, falling deeper and deeper into darkness. Others learn from the experience, and become better for it. Isabella had never realised how much she would regret driving Sophia away, but she knew that before she could change things between them, she would need to change herself.

In a journey of self-discovery, friendship and the occasional scandal, Isabella realises that true beauty is found within, and that loving someone else is no help if you can't love yourself as well.

A 'twisted fairytale' retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Side-story to "Cinderella Grows a Spine" and "Snow White Learns Stranger Danger".

Book Four of Timeless Tales, Modern Morals

Available in Kindle ebook and Paperback

Between darkness and light

It wasn't Jason's fault that his father's Ultimate Sacrifice hadn't resulted in Martyrdom, but in a Villainous reputation.

It wasn't Evanna's fault that she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and would up with Superpowers a la toxic waste.

It wasn't Stretch's fault that his teachers focused more on using his powers than on the ethics of doing so. 

In a world where Superpowers are common, and those gifted with them a facet of everyday life, the lines between Hero and Villain are not always so easily drawn.

As though being a teenager wasn't hard enough!

Book One of “Two Sides of the Same Coin”

Available in Paperback and Kindle ebook

To Light THE WAY IN DARKNESS

The first year at the Superhero Academy ended with a lot of changes, but that doesn’t mean that the Super-student’s problems are over.

Discrimination is still rife in the ranks, and just because things are changing doesn’t mean that the underlying problems have gone away. On top of that, there are several of the ‘Old Crowd’ who are angry at the reluctant Superheroes as the source of all these changes, and want nothing more than to paint them as Villains.

The younger generation will need to step up their game, and keep a constant watch, if they want to survive to graduate.

Book Two of “Two Sides of the Same Coin” Available in Paperback and Kindle ebook

A Candle in the Night

A collection of short stories based around the world and characters from the “Two Sides of the Same Coin” trilogy.

Read about Alien Invasions begun and ended in ways that will give future historians some very interesting days at the office, how Supervillains formed their on Council, and how DIY costumes aren’t always the best idea.

From Villainous backstories, to relationships, these stories will entertain you in the best of ways.

Side Stories from the “Two Sides of the Same Coin” Trilogy

Available in Paperback and Kindle ebook

The Murder Mystery

Ramona Bates thought that a dating site that matched people based on their internet search history was the perfect way to get everyone off her back about her lack of a love-life. Ramona was a crime fiction writer, who was going to have a google history to match that?

When she met Joshua Ryan, a butcher's assistant who knew a surprising amount about murder, it seemed like destiny.

When Ramona released her first book, the local police force realised that a lot of the murder scenes matched with old crime reports. Now they are on the hunt, but will they catch the right person?

In a twisting tale that puts a new spin on both crime and romance, this book will have you holding your breath to the end.

Available in Kindle Ebook and Paperback