Surviving Earth: Makayla's Journey

Surviving Earth:

Makayla's Journey

By: Cora A Murray

Copyright

Copyright © 2016 Cora A. Murray

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means without prior written permission of the copyright owner. This is a work of fiction.

I want to thank everyone that is taking the time to read this book, you are amazing and greatly appreciated.

To my husband, sons, and grandchildren; your unwavering support and love mean everything to me.

To my Mama, I just want to say a huge thank you for instilling in me the belief that I can do anything.

To my sisters (Jeanette and Dawn) and family; thank you for always having my back no matter what.

Christina Escue, you help me in so many ways it's hard to keep up with the many thank you’s I owe you. For your "magical pen", your friendship, your know-how, and so much more. Thank you.

To my beta readers, your help and feedback is greatly appreciated! (Malinda, Linda, Sarah, and Nikki H.) Thank you all so much.

To my street team, you ladies rock. There aren't enough words in my vocabulary to tell you how much you are all appreciated!!

To my street team admin, you ladies are amazing and I love each of you. (Nikki, Rory and Kathy)

Erica Stevens, my favorite author, an amazing friend, and a great inspiration. Thank you for being so awesome!!

To Angel Zudell and Carla Chadwick, thank you so much for my beautiful book cover. You ladies are beyond amazing.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Barbara Devlin. Without her my beautiful cover would never be! She is an amazing person, friend, and author!

Imagine a life where the birds no longer sing, where dogs no longer bark and when the wind blows, you'd better be wearing a mask. Which to be honest, the wind has settled quite a bit since that day two years ago. The day when my world and the world of today collided with each other.

Walking anywhere is dangerous, but for a woman alone it is suicide. The danger lingers in dark alleyways or shops with doors barely hanging on their hinges. Men, unless they are closely related to you, want to drag you off somewhere for their fun, leaving you for dead. And they aren’t the worst of it. Hiding from the bright sunlight are zombies ready to tear the flesh from your bones.

As I walk the empty streets of a small town in Kentucky, I reflect on my life and what is now left of it. My mom and dad had both succumbed to the virus that floated through the air that day. It took them three days before they became lunatics, after their only daughter's brains. Shivering at the thought, I know they are both dead now, or at least I hope they are. I've heard rumors that the zombies are dying off, their bodies rotting so badly it's become impossible to carry on, but I’m not stupid. I know they are still out there. I can hear their moans and shrieks of hunger from whatever hiding place I can find. The screams of the people that are being eaten can equally be heard throughout the night.

In these times coming across people at all is dangerous; you will most likely be robbed and killed. It's sad what becomes of the world when the apocalypse hits. The looting and nonsense of wanting everything quickly faded; now it is a question of survival. The animals died off quickly once the Earth's surface turned to dust. How exactly the human race is still surviving I didn't know; I just know I have to survive. I am looking for my best friend, Clara, and her twin sister, Beth. They were both away at college when this all began to fall apart. After two years of searching I am no closer than I had been from the start, two states over and hundreds of miles left before I get to their school.

Walking during the day and hiding at night is beginning to wear on me; the noises and being scared keep me from sleeping for more than a few minutes here and there. I wish there was someone I could trust so I wouldn't feel so alone on this harsh planet.

Cutting my eyes from side to side, I hate walking into any city, but to get to some places you have to, there is no way around it. Walking into dark places of any kind is a death warrant. Even if the area is cleared of zombies, the presence of evil is always nearby. My sawed off shotgun is thrown over one shoulder; letting the eyes I feel touch my body know I am armed and won’t be taken easily, a Katana swings from my hip, sharp and deadly; it is my close range weapon and works well on zombies and men alike, and my Dad's Glock is securely nestled on my right thigh, ready to be pulled out and released on the dangers that surround me.

Standing in the middle of the seemingly deserted town, I look in all directions. Grabbing my map from the backpack slung over my shoulder, I keep an eye on my surroundings. I know things can happen with little warning and I have to always be on alert for small movements.

A rock scatters into the road near my feet. Glancing the way it came, I see them standing there waiting to see if I will run. What they don't know is that I’m not a runner. I usually face my troubles head on. These dirty men, with their rotten teeth and saliva that dripped from their chins unnoticed, slap each other on the backs thinking they have found a prize. These men aren't much better than a zombie. I'd actually rather face down a herd of zombies over the nasty men who stand across the way.

Pulling my shotgun from my shoulder, I fire a bullet into the air over their heads, hoping it will warn them away. No such luck. They are hungry for more than my skin and brains; they are filled with lust.

The bravest of the group steps forward, "Well hello, beautiful. It's been awhile since we've seen a woman in these parts!" He slurs, wiping greedily at his moist lips. His tongue sneaks out the corner of his mouth, covering his lip. Smiling he glances at me then back to his cohorts.

Lifting my gun, I blow a hole the size of a golf ball through his chest and he looks at me; surprise clearly written across his face. The laughing and joviality of the men stop immediately as each turns in my direction. I know there were four more I have to take down, but I am ready. Clicking my gun, I load another shell into the chamber.

Instead of sending out one at a time, they all start to rush towards me. All four with evil grins upon their faces. One goes down with a shot to his head, this stops the three who are running full force toward me. The second goes down with a shot to the gut, the other two separate and scatter.

Looking up, I notice the sun has started its departure from the sky and I know will need to find shelter soon. The zombies will be emerging from their hiding spots, their hunt for food will be on. Jerking my map up from the ground, I look it over swiftly, it is no help whatsoever. Tucking my shotgun into the shoulder strap, I move out, my fingers clicking against the Glock on my thigh. My only option is to walk towards, what I hope is farm lands. I will find an old barn and pull myself up on the roof, it has been my rescue on more than one occasion. Let's just hope there is one nearby.

An hour passes, and so far there is no farm in sight. It looks as if someone has burned them all to the ground. Not sure why anyone would want to destroy something as beautiful as a farmhouse and barn, but in this area that's all I am seeing. I search the ground for signs of a root cellar, that will at least give me some shelter for the night, but I find absolutely nothing. I definitely don't want to be trapped out in the open when the zombies come out. Walking onward, I hear the rumble of what I think is a car or truck. I know they are still being used, but I've never come across one that is usable; besides where will I get the gas?

Holding onto my Dad’s dog tags, one of the last thing I own that was his, I look in all directions. The rumble of the vehicle is coming closer. Jumping into the short ditch by the road, I watch as a big four by four rumbles by. Inside sits at least six people, ranging in sex and age. I wonder who they are, but know it isn't safe to let them know I am here.

The music from their radio blares out their open windows, it is some kind of country song, and for one swift second I am transported back in time, back to the day I left my home and parents forever. I'd been tending to their every need, cool cloths for the high fever that racked their bodies. I was frightened, I'd tried everything even calling in the doctor. He just looked at me and shook his head, "Mak, I'm not sure what this is, but it doesn't look good for you or for them." He gathered up his supplies and left as fast as his legs could carry him.

The very next morning my dad tried to take a bite out of my arm. I backed away slowly, closing his door only to bump into what used to be my mom. She was snarling with foam coming out the side of her mouth. Opening my Dad’s bedroom door, I pushed her inside before closing the door and pushing a chair under the knob. They started banging on the door, getting gradually louder and hitting harder. I knew they would bust through shortly.

Running around like a crazy woman with tears streaming from my eyes, I grabbed up all of my Dad's favorites; his Glock, the sawed off shotgun, the katana I'd been training with for several months, and the dog tags that he kept inside the gun case. Searching quickly for something of Mom’s, I pulled on her gun belt, it would be the most useful of anything I could find. Just as I finished buckling the gun belt a hand comes through the door. Grabbing my Dad’s keys, I ran for the door.

Shaking myself, I come back to the present. The truck has passed and I need to get moving, I need to find shelter and fast. The sun is reaching for the horizon and I have about an hour before the world turns pitch black. Finally reaching what looks to be promising, an outbuilding, I climb on top of the roof with no problem, but it also wouldn't be a problem for a zombie to reach me either.

“Well damn,” I say out loud to myself. “After two freaking years, tonight is the night I'll find myself eaten by one of the crazies." I watch as the sun creeps steadily towards the ground and I am now frantic to find a decent shelter.

This is the time I have to be ever vigilant. When my brain goes into a tizzy, I can easily forget my surroundings and fall prey to whatever evil lurks just beyond the shadows. The greedy hand will reach out and grab me and I'll never be heard from again. Settling my nerves, I search with my eyes for any kind of shelter. I am past the point of wanting high off the ground, now I just want a place to hide.

Off in the distance I can hear the rumble of the truck speeding down the road, still blaring that same country tune. These people must not have all their faculties. They are almost calling to the zombies. Even though the zombies are affected by the sun, their frail skin and eyes burn instantly in the harsh sunlight, they will be attracted by the noise and come out despite the burning death they will suffer.

Ducking behind the closest outbuilding, I chance a quick peek to see where the truck is. To my astonishment, it’s pulling into where I am hiding. Pulling my Glock from the gun belt, I crouch and try to steady my breathing. I can hear their laughing and doors slamming shut.

"How long do you think it'll be before the zombies get here, Pa?" One asks with a thick, country accent.

"I dunno son, but I hope it's soon. I'd kill the three strangers myself, but it's easier to let the flesh eaters have them." The father replies. 

"But Pa, I wanna keep that blonde girl. We could have a good time." I hear a sharp slap and all goes quiet for a few minutes.

"That girl ain't no older than ten. I may be a ruthless killer, but I won't let you rape a kid. Now go get in the truck!"

Holding the vomit back is hard, but I accomplish it as a shiver races down my spine. They are going to feed those poor people to the zombies. I have to do something. Glancing sideways, I notice there’s only three men standing around. One is unlocking the door to the outbuilding as the others stand guard with their guns trained on the horizon. I can hear a faint struggle as three young kids are brought out into the sunlight.

"Get your dirty hands off my sister, you rotten piece of…" The boy never finishes his sentence as he is knocked senseless with the butt of a pistol. All three men laugh at him lying on the ground.

I'll give them something to laugh about, I quickly think. I walk out from behind the building, my Glock aimed straight and true at the heart of the one who hit the boy. I’m not a killer, but I'll kill to survive. He is down in a flash, holding his chest, surprise written across his dirt brown eyes. The second is dead before he can think to shoot at me. A shot to the brain is all it takes. Finally, I stand face to face with a grizzled old man as darkness quickly surrounds us. He lifts his rifle to shoot, but the shot never comes. My bullet runs straight through his right eye, dropping him where he stands. The only one left sits in the black truck. He scrambles for the door, jumping down from the truck, rifle aimed in my direction. Before he can shoot I bury a bullet in his chest. It only takes a matter of seconds to rid the world of their presence. I'm sure we'll all be thankful for this killing later.

Searching through the old man’s pants, I come across a set of keys. I quickly unlock the handcuffs on each child before running back to the bodies of the dead men. I gather their guns and what ammunition they have on them.

Looking to the three who are gathered by the building I say, "You can take your chances here or you can get your asses in the truck and come with me."

All three run to the truck as I hear the first moan of the night. The fresh blood of the men I killed calling to the zombies. Scrambling into the truck I fire it up, leaving the death and destruction in my wake.

Driving through the night, I finally reach a place that looks safe. I now have not only myself, but three more mouths to feed. Turning in my seat, I look at the three scared kids, their eyes huge in their faces.

"I'm Makayla by the way, but you can call me Mak, all my friends do. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." I say calmly.

"Th..th.. that's what that family said too." The young girl says, clearly frightened.

"If I was going to hurt you, I could have at any time last night while you all slept." I reply softly.

"She has a point Tessa, let's have a little faith." The boy who got hit over the head says while looking at me. "I'm Blu, this is my brother, Gage and my little sister Tessa." He says introducing each in turn.

"Thanks for saving us. I wish you could have saved our mom, too." Tessa says sadly. Not wanting to pry, I don't ask what happened to her.