As The World Dies Untold Tales Volume 3 (17 page)

“Clean. Healthy. Healthier than most who come in,” Charlotte said, patting Emma on the shoulder. “Slightly underweight, but that’s to be expected when food is scarce.”

“That’s good news. She’s a fierce zombie killer. I saw her take out a zombie with a pickaxe. Impressive.”

Charlotte gave Emma a wry smile, her eyes studying her thoughtfully. “Really? Interesting.”

“You just have to kill them anyway you can,” Emma said, shrugging.

“C’mon, Em. Let me show you around, get you a room, and get some grub in you.” Juan waved at her to follow before striding toward a wood stairway.

Following the tall cowboy, Emma tried not to notice his finely-toned body. She always was a sucker for muscular arms, which was why Stan had caught her eye. It felt odd to even be around another human being, let alone find one attractive. After a year of mourning, depression, and being alone, she felt refreshingly alive again.

“This is amazing,” Emma kept saying as Juan escorted her through the fort’s sections as they made their way to the hotel.

“Eh, it’s okay.” He shrugged, but looked pleased with her compliment.

A lanky biker with long white hair tilted his head as Emma passed. She met his gaze, curious. Slowly, the biker grinned, looking very pleased. “Good to see ya, Emma.”

“Do I know you?” Emma asked, slightly unnerved.

“No, no. Name’s Rune. We just have a friend in common.” The biker shook her hand, then lightly bumped fists with Juan. “Good to see you brought another family member home, Juan.”

“I found her killing a zombie. With a pickaxe.” Juan winked at Emma. “Bad ass zombie killer, right here.”

“Ah,” Rune said, nodding his head slightly. “It’s all making sense now.”

“But you’re not,” Juan said. “You doing that John Edward’s shit again?” Juan cast a nervous look around him.

“That man was a fraud. I’m legit.” Rune winked, and strolled away.

“John Edwards shit?” Emma asked, thinking of the ghost in her dream.

“Rune sees things.” Juan nervously tugged on his ponytail. “But there’s weirder folks around here. And here comes one.”

“Oh, my Lord! That’s the old coot from public access!” Emma gawked at the familiar face she’d seen many times on her grandfather’s television.

“Otis Calhoun may be paranoid, but he’s brilliant at times.”

The skinny old man, who smelled worse than a zombie, dashed past them clutching a small Chihuahua under one arm. “Can’t talk! Pee Wee has to go!”

Emma raised her hands to her face and laughed. “Oh, my God. Am I dreaming all this?”

“Nah. It’s real. I promise you. It’s all real.” Juan gave her a wide grin, then became aware of a young boy walking toward them. The small one had broken away from a group of kids playing in a sandbox. “Emma, this is my youngest boy, Troy.”

“My shoes light up,” the little boy said, his big brown eyes staring up at her.

“They do!” Emma smiled in spite of the sharp pain piercing her heart. It was difficult not to think of Billy while looking at the child. Squatting, she admired the shoe the boy held up for her to see.

“I do this and it lights up.” He jumped up and down, the lights flicking off and on. “They’re magic.”

Emma pressed her hands to her heart, her voice catching when she spoke. “They really are! Those are so cool. Mine are just boring cowboy boots.”

“Daddy One wears boots. He’s a cowboy.”

Emma peered up at Juan. “Daddy One?”

“Juan sounds like ‘one’ to them,” he answered with a grin.

“Daddy One is cool.” Rising, Emma felt just a bit dizzy. It was all too much. There were people still alive, flourishing, and creating new families.

Tiny, sweaty fingers slid around her hand. Looking down, she saw the little boy smiling up at her.

“I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Emma squeezed his chubby hand.

“She said you’d be nice,” Troy said with a conspiratorial smile.

Blinking rapidly, Emma said, “Who said I would be nice?”

Beside her, she saw Juan shift with abrupt nervousness.

“The lady that saved me and my sisters. She’s pretty. She’s an angel.”

“An angel?” Emma felt her face going numb as her stomach fluttered.

“She doesn’t have wings. Not yet.”

Feeling abruptly faint, Emma staggered on her feet. Juan caught her arm and gently guided her to a bench. Troy persistently held onto her hand and slipped onto the seat next to her.

“You okay?” Juan asked worriedly.

“Yeah, just...” Emma shook her head. “Feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“Me, too,” Juan admitted, squinting slightly.

Troy grinned up at Emma, swinging his legs. “You’re pretty. Like a princess.”

Pressing her lips together, Emma found it hard not to cry. “Why thank you, Troy. That’s so sweet of you to say.”

“Aunt Katie had a baby. She’s real little. Her name is Bryce. Do you want to hold her?”

“Maybe in a little bit.” Emma took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She was surprised to hear Juan mirroring her action. People were still having babies. Creating new life. There was still hope in the world.

Juan and Emma exchanged glances.

“A whole town, huh?” Juan said after a beat.

Emma nodded.

Juan tilted his cowboy hat on his head, folded his arms over his chest, and leaned against the back of the bench. “Yep. You belong here.”

Across from them, a small memorial garden drew Emma’s attention. On a wall were photos of people, letters, and cards. One photo stood out among the rest. It was a Polaroid shot of a woman with long black hair and beautiful dark eyes. Standing, Emma timidly approached the wall. Troy shadowed her. When the little boy pointed at the picture, she wasn’t surprised.

“That’s Jenni. She saved me and my sisters. Then she told us that Daddy One would be our new daddy when she got to be an angel. She was Daddy One’s girlfriend.”

“Jenni,” Emma breathed reverently. Tears flooded her eyes as she lightly touched the clear plastic cover that protected the memorial. “Jenni.” Sensing Juan behind her, Emma looked up at him questioningly.

“She did die saving the kids. She died saving a lot of people. But even though she’s dead, she tends to still save people, doesn’t she?” His voice was rich with emotion, both good and bad. His green eyes met hers steadily.

“Yeah, she is.” Emma felt Troy’s hand taking hers again.

“I thought so,” Juan said, nodding slightly.

Standing before the memorial, Emma raised her head to stare up at the hotel that would now be her home.

Almost timidly, Juan placed a hand on her back.

“Let me show you your new home,” he said at last.

“Home,” Emma breathed, loving the sound of it.

“Home,” Troy said with an all-knowing nod of his head.

Together, they walked into the hotel.

Rhiannon Frater is the award-winning author of the
As the World Dies
trilogy
(The First Days, Fighting to Survive, Siege,)
and the author of three other books: the vampire novels
Pretty When She Dies
and
The Tale of the Vampire Bride
and the young-adult zombie novel
The Living Dead Boy and the Zombie Hunters.
Inspired to independently produce her work from the urging of her fans, she published
The First Days
in late 2008 and quickly gathered a cult following. She won the Dead Letter Award back-to-back for both
The First Days
and
Fighting to Survive,
the former of which the Harrisburg Book Examiner called ‘one of the best zombie books of the decade.’ Tor is reissuing all three
As the World Dies
novels. You may contact her by sending an email to
[email protected]
or visit her online at rhiannonfrater.com. You can find out more about the
As the World Dies
trilogy and world by visiting astheworlddies.com.

–Author photo courtesy of

Mary Milton