Apocalipstick (Hell in a Handbag Book 1) Lisa Acerbo (debian ebook reader .TXT) 📖

and decomposition. The maggoty swarm had assembled along the large glass windows and doors. They were agitated, writhing and swaying against the barrier. His friends, Jenna and Caleb, had tried to herd him to safety in back, but Eric jostled them away. He was nearly sixteen and had to prove himself. One of the zombies focused its lifeless eyes on him.

The window in front of him had shattered. The battle began.

Where were his friend now? Had they all died? Had they abandoned him?

Broken glass crackled. Eric jumped. His heart once again pounded to an irregular surprise that flooded his aching limbs into action.

Frantic, he searched the ground for a weapon but found nothing. He crawled to the corner and waited. There was little else to do.

The thing moved toward him. An atrocity Eric easily smelled from a distance over his own unpleasant scent.

As the figure emerged from the shadows, he recognized a human face covered with tufts of matted hair.

A long, unkempt beard hid already thin lips. More hair, in knotted dread-like tangles ascended from the scalp and cascaded in all directions. Twigs had lodged in the mess and Eric had an absurd vision of a bird springing out of the tangled dreadlocks like an animated character in an old-fashioned Disney movie.

The beast pointed and spoke. “What happened to you?”

Eric’s mouth dropped open, but words failed to emerge.

Not undead?

Before him stood a man, not a zombie. Despite being in much better condition than Eric, his appearance indicated life had not been kind, but that’s the downside of the zombie apocalypse. Life had not been good to anyone as of late.

A shy teen again, he tried to find a place in the room to conceal his nakedness from the man’s critical gaze. Finding nothing to shelter him other than darkness, he squeezed back into the shadows.

“I don’t remember what happened or why I’m here alone.” His voice was deep and scratchy, sounding a little like he remembered.

The crowbar the stranger brandished in front of him glinted. Eric slipped deeper into the recesses of the darkened, abandoned movie theater until he met a wall.

Not much protection but with these wounds I’ll be dead soon anyway.

The stranger took a step closer. In addition to the crowbar, a lethal curved sword hung from the belted loops of torn, stained jeans encasing the man’s long legs. A bandana hung loosely around his neck, but Eric noticed scars slithering from side to side. A grungy t-shirt with an ironic smiley face highlighted muscles underneath, corded and ready to deliver a deadly blow if needed.

Would this be how he died? I’m not ready.

Eric turned his head in a desperate search for an escape route.

“Wait, kid. Don’t get scared. I haven’t come across another human for months now, but you look worse than the undead. Shit, are you human?” The man scratched at the untamed beard.

Eric nodded. “Think so. I feel horrible and very human.”

The stranger looked like a magician out of a fantasy novel, but this man was no wizard. There was no magic or spells to ever make this world right again.

Long beats of silence followed, but the nameless man set the crowbar on the ground and slid his backpack off. A rifle was strapped to the top.

“I travel light kid, so don’t expect a choice, but you need some clothes. Here’s my spare t-shirt and jeans. I don’t have extra shoes, but I’m sure you will find some if you live long enough.”

“Who are you? What happened to my brother Billy? Where’s Jenna and my friends?” Unanswered questions jumbled his frantic thoughts.

The man shrugged, handing over the clothes. They were nearly as disgusting as the articles he wore.

“My name’s Abraham, but people used to call me Abe. We appear to be the only two idiots crashing this movie theater tonight. I didn’t notice any other humans in my travels. There’s definitely no one in this town unless you’re a fan of the undead. They’re everywhere, so keep your voice down.”

“Yesterday?” He scratched at his face. “I think it was yesterday, we were all in this theater. But where’s everyone?” He stood, awkward and shaky as he put on the clothes.

“What’s your name?”

“Eric.” He scowled as he tried to remember the recent days. He ran a hand through his blond hair, but half-way back it stuck to a matted clump of what he hoped was just blood. It was thick and chunky. He pulled the hand away in a quick motion, choking back a gag.

“Sit down, kid. You’re in rough shape. I pray you’re not changing into one of them. I’d have to put you down then.”

“I’d want that.”

“What do you remember?”

“There were sixteen of us traveling together.” He halted, thought back, noting the details were foggy. “We were heading to this inn in Virginia. It was supposed to be safe, but we got stuck in this movie theater one day. Lots of undead.”

“Sixteen. That’s a large group these days.”

“All good people.” Eric felt heat in his cheeks from the unabashed praise, but conversing elevated his mood. “Humans and some of the New Race.”

“New Race, huh?”

“Some of the people we travel with are different.” He stuttered, stuck on exactly how to explain his former companions. “They don’t like the light.”

“Been doing this long enough that I’ve been introduced to them. Call themselves The Others or the New Race.” Abe massaged his beard. “They have an allergy to the light. Tend to avoid the sun and are a lot stronger than the average human.”

The boy nodded. “The front window shattered and a bunch of Streakers attacked. Me and my brother Billy had to save one of the New Race who ventured too far out and got caught in the sun. Jenna tried to get me to go in the back to safety, but I refused.”

Eric’s head swarmed with bees. The pain traveled to his spine.

“How’d you get left here?”

“I have no memory of it.” He slapped the ground with his hand. “We moved Victor, he’s the