Remedy
A
Red Plague Novella
Red
Plague Series 4
Anna
Abner
Genre:
YA Dystopian
Publisher:
Mild Red Books
Date
of Publication: July 26, 2016
ASIN:
B01FOKFCTO
Number
of pages: 175
Word
Count: 45,000
Book
Description:
The
red plague has devastated the human race, turning billions of people
into zombies with red eyes and an insatiable hunger for human flesh.
Seventeen-year-old
Callie Crawford is used to fighting. She was an all-star wrestler in
high school, and since 212R destroyed her world, she hasn’t stopped
fighting. When her high school boyfriend Levi caught the virus,
Callie saved him by keeping him chained in a rural North Carolina
barn, waiting for something to change.
Before
212R, Roman Duran was a computer nerd, but since the virus, he’s
become a guard in the survivor enclave in Washington, DC. After
volunteering for a rescue mission, Roman has been belittled, robbed,
and left for dead. He hasn’t saved a single person.
Until
he stumbles across Callie. Because she has a zombie on a short leash,
and Roman is carrying a syringe full of zombie cure.
Callie
and Roman will face soulless survivors and rabid zombies on their
journey to save a single infected. Along the way, Callie will have to
choose between her past and a whole new future.
Excerpt:
Roman
Duran ran a step behind Jared and saw the moment the other man
faltered on his wounded leg, careening into a chain link fence.
Without missing a step, he ducked under Jared’s arm and forced him
forward. The pack of infecteds was only two or, at the most, three
blocks behind.
“Here,”
Pollard Datsik, the third member of their trio, hissed, slipping
around a block wall and sprinting up a set of exterior stairs to an
apartment above a liquor store. Roman dragged Jared behind him.
While
Roman helped Jared to a sagging sofa, Pollard shut the door with a
quiet click and peered through the window, his breath a puff in the
silence.
“Are
they following?” Roman whispered. “Are they swarming the stairs?”
Pollard
stretched his neck to see further, and then soft-stepped to the next
window and stared at the street below.
“I’m
fine,” Jared murmured unnecessarily. “I tripped. It won’t
happen again.” He shoved Roman away. “I just need a couple
minutes.”
Roman
didn’t buy it. The injury in question was a jagged slash above
Jared’s knee he’d earned climbing a fence the night before.
Though they’d stopped running long enough to wrap it, Jared wasn’t
as energetic as he’d been before the wound.
Separating
from Jared, Roman peered through a broken windowpane, blinking away
the exhaustion that had dogged him for the past couple of days.
Without enjoyment, he chewed one of their last handfuls of goldfish
crackers, the food dry and pasty in his mouth. Water was about to
become a serious issue.
“I’m
so thirsty,” he complained in a whisper. “And dirty.” What he
wouldn’t do for a clean, clear stream of fresh water.
Roman
glanced at his companions, noting their equally stained and stinking
uniforms. Maybe volunteering to leave Washington, DC had been a
crappy decision all around. Maybe the veep should have sent older,
more experienced survivors on her search and rescue mission. Maybe
his eighteen years on the earth weren’t enough for this kind of
mission.
A
pack of infecteds had caught their scent in Raleigh and hadn’t let
go. Forty-eight hours without sleep or rest. Two days of running, of
hiding, of trying to lose the predators. And now, they were out of
food and water.
“What
if we climb on the roof?” Roman whispered. “We could wait them
out.”
Pollard
took the bag of crackers from him and crammed a handful into his
mouth.
“We’re
out of water,” Jared reminded them. “What if they trap us for
days? No.” He shook his head at the room’s closed door. “We
could end up a lot worse than we are now. I say we keep running.”
“Forever?”
Pollard scoffed. “There has to be a point where we say we can’t
continue like this. A point where we circle around the pack and head
home.”
Roman
wouldn’t call Washington, DC home. But then he’d never called
anywhere home. An orphan kicked into the system after his mother
abandoned him, none of the dozen foster and group homes he’d lived
in had ever been his home. And DC was no different. It was a way
station to somewhere else, no matter whether he had an apartment or a
job or a purpose. It still wasn’t home.
Roman
had yet to find his real home.
Swallowing
dry crackers, Roman double-checked the number of rounds for his M-16.
When they’d left the safety of DC’s walls, they each carried
forty rounds for their personal firearms. It had sounded like a lot
at the time, but he was down to nineteen rounds. The other two men
had less.
For
an entire day, Jared had fired warning shots at their pursuers—a
mistake, Roman realized now—but the only result had been bringing
even more infecteds into the pack, as nearby stragglers were
attracted by the noise.
His
ears perking up, Roman rushed to the far window and scanned for
movement. Was he crazy, or did he hear a car engine?
Roman
had left DC wanting to help people, both infecteds and survivors.
After running into people, one worse than the last, his companions
were nearly to the point of abandoning the mission. But Roman hadn’t
given up. Even though they hadn’t helped a single person.
Between
two rooftops, he caught a glimpse of a fast-moving white Range Rover
driving in a westerly direction. A part of him wanted to catch up to
the driver, but another part of him, a starving and sleep deprived
part, wanted the vehicle to pass them by and disappear.
The
sound of the Range Rover’s engine quieted as it drove out of sight.
“Let’s
try the distraction method again,” Roman suggested. The last time
they’d thrown empty cans near the zombies, they’d been curious
enough for Roman and the other two men to escape. “It worked
before.”
Their
rescue mission to Myrtle Beach could still be salvaged once they
shook this pack. Unhindered by the starving horde of infecteds, the
three men could scavenge for food and water, sleep safely in shifts,
and cover ground at an easy pace. This running for their lives,
though, couldn’t go on forever. Without water and more substantial
food than goldfish crackers, he wasn’t going to survive much
longer.
“I’ll
open fire,” Pollard said, as if Roman hadn’t spoken, “and you
two run for the cell tower at the end of the street. I’ll meet you
there.”
“Good
plan,” Jared said, “except you’re a horrible shot. I’ll do
the shooting, thanks.” He stood, trying to hide a wince of pain and
failing.
Pollard
clenched his jaw at the insult. “Fine.” He grabbed Roman by the
sleeve and dragged him toward the door.
“You
sure about this?” Roman asked, still thinking his idea would work
better than wasting more bullets and hoping to find each other under
a tower.
“Just
run fast,” Pollard said.
About
the Author:
Anna
Abner lived in a haunted house for three years and grew up talking to
imaginary friends. In her professional life, she has been a Realtor,
a childcare provider, and a teacher. Now, she writes
edge-of-your-seat paranormal romances and blogs from her home in
sunny Southern California about ghosts and magic. You can connect
with her online at AnnaAbner.com.
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