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    Screamers
    Screamers
    Screamers
    Ebook98 pages1 hour

    Screamers

    By Adam Moon

    5/5

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    About this ebook

    This is a novella:

    It started with the elderly. They went nuts and started eating people.
    The nerds are calling it the zombie apocalypse but I think that's just so they have an excuse to commit murder.

    My wife worked at Shady Hills nursing home and it raged out last night while she was on duty. She wasn't among the dead so I know she's out there somewhere.
    I don't care that she's infected. She's my wife.
    This journal chronicles my mission to find and cure her.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAdam Moon
    Release dateJun 19, 2013
    ISBN9781301936991
    Screamers
    Author

    Adam Moon

    Adam Moon was born in California, grew up in Scotland, and currently lives in Wisconsin with his wife and two young sons. His oldest son wants to grow up to be the first American President who is a space-ninja sniper-robot from the future. His youngest son likes to punch things and say bad words. His long suffering wife just wants some peace and quiet for a change. Adam writes science fiction and horror. You can visit his website at: www.moonwrites.com

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      Book preview

      Screamers - Adam Moon

      SCREAMERS

      ADAM MOON

      Smashwords Version

      Screamers copyright 2013 Adam Moon

      All rights reserved

      To my wife for...I don't know really.

      Thanks for being awesome, I guess.

      Plus all the sex...

      It started with the elderly. They all went fucking nuts. It seemed like it happened all at once down south but there had to have been isolated incidents previously that just got hushed up or dismissed. Anyway, over the past week and a half, old people have been raging out and attacking everyone.

      No one knows why.

      The nerds have been calling them zombies but that's just so they have an excuse to shoot at them or to use their zombie survival skills they've acquired over the years (from watching silly movies and reading stupid books).

      I don't know what they are, but they're scary as hell. They just sort of lose their humanity. They're fast too, faster than most able bodied folks are, fifty years their junior. I think it's because they don't feel any pain. A normal person will slow down or at least regulate his or her physical exertion based on their pain threshold but the elderly don't have such limitations anymore. That's my theory.

      Just because I'm only thirty two doesn't mean I can't catch it. If an old woman caught up to me and bit me and I survived the attack, I'd lose my marbles within an hour.

      They can't be zombies though; zombies eat brains. These monsters eat anything. But they're morons so they don't know how to open cans or unwrap candy bars. Because of that they usually go after ready to eat meals like live animals and people.

      They drink water like dogs too; if they weren't so spooky, that might seem silly.

      Anyway, this is the first journal I've ever written in and what I wrote above will serve as an introduction of sorts. I write only because there's not much else to do at night anymore. Anything that emits noise of any kind is out of the question because the infected will hear your TV and bust into your house with hunger in their eyes.

      My story starts with my search for my wife (and I hope it ends with me finding her safe and sound). She worked at an old folks home that raged out last night. There were several corpses at the scene, a few elderly and a couple of nurses, but my wife's body was not there. Thank God for that. That means that she's either on the run, or more likely, she's infected. I don't give a shit though, she's my wife and she's alive. I'm going to find her.

      My name is Jack.

      It started yesterday for me.

      ENTRY 1: Day 1

      As soon as I noticed Sarah was late, I panicked. I tried her cell phone but it went straight to voicemail. I called the reception desk at the nursing home and a guy with a deep baritone answered. He introduced himself as a police officer. He wouldn't give me any information but he insisted I give him a description of Sarah. Then he hung up on me like a prick.

      I switched the news on as I got dressed and there was a report of an outbreak at Shady Hills nursing home, where Sarah works. Early reports indicated that at least twelve were dead with all of the resident patients either dead or missing.

      Sarah and I'd talked about her taking a leave of absence, ever since the elderly began to freak out but she insisted that those outbreaks were isolated incidents (they'd occurred down south) that would never affect her or her residents. I normally taunt her when she's wrong, but right then my chest felt like it was full of quicksand. My thoughts became numb and sluggish. But there was one thought that shone through all the glare: I must find my wife at all costs.

      I bolted out the door and immediately regretted it because that asshole neighbor kid who destroyed my mailbox last spring was running about with several of his fingers missing. He splashed blood around as he went. His face was knotted in a twisted look of rage I'd never witnessed before. Luckily he was preoccupied with chasing a cat at the time because if he'd have locked eyes with me at that moment I would've froze to the spot. I went back inside the house and grabbed my handgun and my over/under shotgun I use for trap shooting. My aim sucks but aim isn't necessarily a requirement in order to hit your target when you're using a ten gauge. It's hard to miss with it at close range.

      Because I've seen too many zombie movies, I grabbed a machete from the kitchen drawer. I'd bought the thing because it looked cool. Sarah had argued with me during the ride back home from the flea market where I'd bought it that we'd never have a use for it. She was right about that, until that moment.

      I shoved the machete in my waistband beside the handgun. Then I had to go put on a belt because my pants started falling down.

      As I bolted out the front door the living room window was smashed. I still don't know what caused it.

      I jumped in my truck and took off. Thankfully no one had destroyed the truck because there was no way I'd be able to make it on foot. The streets were swarming with infected and their would be victims alike. I wasn't adequately prepared for this, mentally or physically. I work (worked?) in middle management; what did I know about survival skills.

      There was blood everywhere.

      That bastard kid had caught the cat. He chewed on it like he'd never had anything so delicious in his entire life. Thankfully the cat appeared to be dead already. I don't know if I could've handled watching that little punk eating the cat alive.

      I slowed down to let a teenage girl jump in the passenger seat because I'm a good Samaritan. She'd been bitten on the face and the forearm and as soon as I noticed, I had no choice but to drop her off. We know little about the disease but we do know that it takes over within an hour or so of infection. I couldn't risk having her in the truck when she turned. She didn't argue with me because she knew she was screwed. I

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