The Hollows Collection: The First Two Years

The Hollows Collection:

The First Two Years

Amanda Hocking

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

THE HOLLOWS COLLECTION: THE FIRST TWO YEARS.

Copyright © 2024 by Amanda Hocking. All rights reserved.

HOLLOWLAND.

Copyright © 2010 by Amanda Hocking. All rights reserved.

INTO THE HOLLOW DARK.

Copyright © 2023 by Amanda Hocking. All rights reserved.

HOLLOWMEN.

Copyright © 2011 by Amanda Hocking. All rights reserved.

INTO THE HOLLOW HORDE.

Copyright © 2023 by Amanda Hocking. All rights reserved.

HOLLOW STARS.

Copyright © 2023 by Amanda Hocking. All rights reserved.

INTO THE HOLLOW YEARS.

Copyright © 2024 by Amanda Hocking. All rights reserved.

www.HockingBooks.com

Other Books by Amanda Hocking

The Hollows

Hollowland

Hollowmen

Hollow Stars

Hollow Child

Hollow Valley (Coming Halloween 2025)

Hollowland: Redux

Hollowmen: Redux

Hollow Stars: Redux

Into the Hollow Dark (Short Story)

Into the Hollow Horde (Short Story)

Into the Hollow Years (Short Story)

The Hollows: A Graphic Novel

My Blood Approves Saga

My Blood Approves

Fate

Flutter

Wisdom

Swear

Letters to Elise (Prequel Novella)

Little Tree (Short Story)

My Blood Approves: Complete Saga (eBook Bundle)

Seven Fallen Hearts

Virtue

Tristitia

A Hungry Heart (Short Story)

Superbia (Coming Soon)

Trylle Saga

Switched

Torn

Ascend

Frostfire

Ice Kissed

Crystal Kingdom

The King’s Games (Short Story)

The Lost City

The Morning Flower

The Ever After

Watersong Saga

Wake

Lullaby

Tidal

Elegy

Forgotten Lyrics (Short Story)

Standalone Novels

Freeks

Bestow the Darkness

Hollowland

Book #1

1

This is the way the world ends – not with a bang or a whimper, but with zombies breaking down the back door.

When the lights first went out, filling the former classroom with frightened gasps, I didn’t think much of it. With almost constant blackouts, we were lucky to have power at all.

Then the emergency sirens started wailing.

Even though it was well after midnight, I laid wide awake on my cot, still fully clothed. I jumped up and ran to the large windows. Armed guards and barbed wire lined the perimeter, but when I looked out into the night, I couldn’t see any soldiers. Bright flashes lit up the darkness as guns fired, but I couldn’t hear anything over the sirens.

Chaos enveloped the room behind me. Once, not that long ago, this had been an ordinary high school. Now the government kept the uninfected stashed here, quarantined off from the zombies.

I shared the room with two dozen other girls, ranging in age from ten to twenty. At nineteen, I was one of the oldest ones here. To prepare us for the possibility of an attack, government officials had set up weekly training with arbitrary safeguards. Now the girls did as they had been taught, propping the army regulation cots on their sides to block the windows and doors.

A girl pushed me out of the way and shoved her cot towards the nearest window, as if it would protect us any better than the glass. It’d do about as much good as the duck and cover method would against a nuclear bomb, but it seemed better than doing nothing at all.

A loud crash echoed over the sirens, and the entire building shook.

One of the girls shrieked, and my heart skipped a beat. My little brother Max was in another part of the building, set up in a makeshift medical center, and I had to get to him. Private Beck might be with him, but I couldn’t bank on that.

At the thought of Beck, my panic flared, but he could take care of himself. Max, on the other hand, needed me.

I grabbed my messenger bag, containing the few earthly possessions I still had, and ran towards the door.

What are you doing? Sommer asked. Even though she barely stood five feet tall, she had been chosen to guard the door.

Getting out of here. I shoved the cot blockade out of the way. It moved easily for me, and I couldn’t imagine that it would hold for long against the feral intruders.

Where? Why? Her voice quivered, and her eyes darted around the room.

I glanced back at the room, full of girls without any real way to protect themselves, and I grimaced. Leaving them stranded like this wasn’t ideal, not that I could do much if I stayed with them. But it didn’t matter anyway. Max was my only priority.

I have to get my brother, I said. Lock the door behind me, and don’t let anyone in.

When I opened the door, there were a few protests, as if I might let zombies in along with the draft. To my relief, nobody really tried to stop me, because they were too busy blockading the windows or cowering in corners.

I went out into the deserted hallway. Every room on the floor was full, mostly with kids like us, but no one else ventured out. By the sounds of far-off screaming, it was for good reason, and the echoing halls made it impossible for me to tell where they came from.

Guns fired, men yelled, things crashed, and – most disturbingly of all – I could hear the familiar death groan the zombies made. Like a low deep rattle and a desperate howl mixed together.

The lights flickered for a moment, then shut off again completely.

Wait! Sommer said behind me.

She crept out of the room after me, with Harlow trailing at her heels, and I glared back at them. Sommer contained all the nervous energy and usefulness of a chipmunk. Harlow was only thirteen and slept on the cot next to mine, and she seemed to fancy us friends and follow me around a lot.

What are you doing? I asked in an annoyed whisper. 

We’re going with you, Harlow replied. Blond hair fell into her frightened eyes, but her voice stayed even.

Go back inside, I snapped. The last thing I needed was her traipsing after me and getting herself killed. You’ll be safer in there.

No, I don’t want to be a sitting duck, Harlow said, barely audible over a distant scream. It sounded human, blood curdled and terrified.

I relented because I didn’t have time to argue. But run if I tell you to run.

Harlow nodded, and I turned and slowly headed down the hall. Leaving the safety of the room could get them killed, but then again, so could staying behind. At least this way they could run.

An emergency light flickered dimly in the stairwell, so I went that way. The death groans only got louder as we got closer, but it would be better to run into the zombies in the light than having them sneak up behind us. 

The battered lockers lining the halls were plastered with posters, all of them reminders about how to protect against the infected. Most of them were just graphics explaining the emergency procedures: board up the windows and doors, hide if you can’t run, and run if you can’t hide.

That was the only real advice about dealing with zombies. Just keep them away, because if they bite you, you were as good as dead. Getting infected was far too easy, even if the zombies didn’t kill you.

When we reached the stairwell, I leaned over the railing. The landing below had three dead zombies and one dead soldier. The zombies had completely breached the quarantine.

Harlow gasped when she saw the bodies, but I’d learned to keep my reactions to myself. The coast looked clear for the time being, so I went down the stairs and stopped at the landing next to the corpses. The zombie bodies were mangled with bullets, their weird blood splattered all over everything.

They weren’t really zombies, at least not the kind that rose from the dead and craved only brains. They were regular people who had been infected with the lyssavirus genotype-8. A mutation of the rabies virus, it only infected humans, and it turned them into something completely monstrous.

Within a day of being exposed, people would begin having symptoms. Headaches, fever, nausea. Then they’d start hallucinating and getting paranoid and aggressive. Within three days, they’d be angry, violent, and incapable of rational thought.

The virus flooded them with adrenaline and dampened pain receptors, making them strong, fast, and relentless. Worst of all, they became insatiably hungry and ate literally anything, including dirt and other people.

When the infection had first broken out, the plan was to quarantine all the uninfected and let the virus run its course. If nobody else got sick, within a month or two, every infected person should be dead. That’s what the doctors and government officials promised when we arrived in the quarantine.

I had been here at the Sonoran quarantine zone and makeshift military base in Arizona for well over two months, and some people had been here even longer than that. And yet the zombie population continued to grow and thrive.

The dead zombies on the steps hardly resembled people anymore. Two of them were very thin and decrepit, meaning they were in the later stages of the virus, but the third one was fleshy and bloated. Froth covered their lips, and their skin had become gray. Their jaundiced eyes had dark rings around them. Zombies tended to attack and eat each other, so they were covered in bruises, scratches, and bite marks. 

The thing I hated the most about zombies was their blood. It was thicker than human blood, as if always coagulating, and it had a weird greenish tint to it, making it look darker and alien.

I crouched down next to the dead soldier, glancing behind me to make sure a zombie wasn’t about to spring to life and grab my ankle.

Harlow and Sommer waited a few steps up as I started searching around the soldier’s corpse. I kept my eyes fixed on the dead zombies, watching them for any signs of life, but in truth, I was avoiding getting a real look at the soldier’s face. I was afraid I might recognize them.

The thick ooze of zombie blood covered my hands, and I grimaced. I finally found the clip, along with his service revolver. He’d been using a semi-automatic shotgun, and it was still in his hands. I pulled it free, hating the way it felt to loosen a dead man’s grip. I stood up and turned back to Harlow and Sommer.

Do either of you know how to use a gun? I asked them.

Sommer was too busy staring down at the dead soldier. I understood her horror, but it didn’t do any good to let fear take over. Harlow didn’t answer, either, but at least she managed to make eye contact with me when I spoke.

Aim and pull the trigger. I clicked off the safety and handed it to her. And don’t shoot me.

Harlow nodded and took the gun. I wiped my hands on my jeans. I didn’t need them slippery, and zombie blood was hella gross.

Shoving the extra magazine in my back pocket, I stepped over the corpses in front of me. The stairs were slick with blood, and I gripped the railing.

I’d only made it down a few steps when the gun went off behind me, and I ducked. Plaster rained from the wall, and when my heart started beating again, I glared back at Harlow. She was half-sitting on one of the steps, and her wide eyes were apologetic and terrified. She must’ve slipped on the blood and accidentally pulled the trigger.

I’m sorry, Harlow said, and she righted herself and stood up straighter.

Well, at least we know you can take care of any zombies on the walls, I muttered and headed down the stairs.

Civilians were housed on the second floor, and the first floor was for army personnel and government officials. The medical facilities were in the gymnasium, and I had to get there for Max.

Blood covered the stairwell door-frame, and I leaned against it, looking down the halls of the main level. Zombie corpses littered the floor, but I saw enough swatches of green and beige camouflage in the bodies to know that they weren’t the only fatalities down here.

The infected were too crazed to formulate a real battle plan against the soldiers, but if there were enough zombies overrunning the military, everyone was fucked.

The lights on the ground floor flashed red. Things appeared deserted, so I stepped out into the hall. I noticed movement a few feet away, something crouched. My stomach turned when I realized it was a zombie gnawing on a dead body.

I raised the gun and pulled the trigger mid-bite. Their head jerked back, blood sprayed, and the zombie collapsed. Sommer screamed, and I cringed.

Sommer, shut up or go back to the room, I whispered angrily at her. Your screams will summon more zombies. They always seemed to run towards the sounds of human suffering.

I’m sorry, she said plaintively. Maybe you could give me a warning.

As soon as the zombies let me know when they’re about to attack, I’ll make sure to pass the message along to you.

They’ll never let me back in. Sommer gestured to herself. Infected blood had gotten on her clothes, and I knew she was right. None of us would be allowed back in that room. The virus was transmitted the same as rabies, through blood and saliva, but people got paranoid whenever they saw zombie blood anywhere.

You have to be quiet, all right? I told her as gently as I could. I don’t want you attracting any more attention than you need to.

Biting her lip, Sommer nodded fervently, and I headed onward. The ground squished under my feet, and I had to watch where I stepped without really looking. I didn’t want to step on something that would bite me, but I didn’t want to see what we were walking through. I especially didn’t want to see the soldiers. I had to have known some of them, and they died trying to protect us.

Gun blasts echoed from around the corner, and men were shouting. I moved to the side, pressing myself against the wall so I was hidden behind a trophy case. Harlow followed suit, but I had to physically grab Sommer to get her to take cover. 

Something was happening, and from where I was, I couldn’t see anything. All I could hear was yelling, death groans, and gun fire.

When the guns fell silent, I peered around the trophy case, and I could see to the stairwell at the end of the hall. Dozens of zombies lurched up the stairs, likely attracted to the screaming and crying of the panicked children in hiding. All the soldiers we’d heard yelling and shooting were already dead, and the zombies had made it through our last defenses.

We have to stop them from going upstairs, Harlow said in a hushed voice.

I pursed my lips but didn’t say anything. The gun felt heavy in my hands. If I fired at the zombies, I might get one or two, but I couldn’t take them all out. The soldiers hadn’t been able to stop them. A couple kids with guns wouldn’t stand a chance.

The grim truth was that we were lucky they were going upstairs and not down here after us.

They’re going to kill everyone, Harlow persisted.

Getting ourselves killed won’t save them, I told her firmly.

Once all of the zombies had disappeared up the stairs, I turned and went the opposite way down the hall. Everyone up there was already dead, and I didn’t want to listen to it. They were mostly children, and they had no weapons or any real protection. Eventually, the zombies would break down the doors. They always did.

I felt sick but I kept walking, stepping carefully over the bodies. I’d never seen a massacre this bad.

When the virus popped up almost a year ago, it spread like wildfire, but I had never seen so many zombies together. Even the ones that had gotten my mom and dad had only been in a group of three. This had to be hundreds. Something different was happening.

We had to round another corner before we made it to the gym. I heard one gun shot, and then silence. I raised my gun and peered around, afraid to find another pack of the infected.

Instead, I saw a single soldier. He stood in the middle of the hall, his gun pointed down at the zombie corpses. He was watching to see if they were still moving, and then he shot them in the head if they did.

I lowered my weapon and stepped out. Hey! I announced myself before he shot us.

He turned to me, automatically pointing the rifle at me, and relief went over me. Even at that distance, I recognized him immediately.

Remy? Beck asked, sounding just as relieved as I felt, and he lowered the gun. What are you doing?

I heard the zombies knocking, so I thought I’d come down and let them in, I replied.

I walked down the hall, fighting the urge to run to him, and glanced back to make sure Harlow and Sommer were following close behind.

Your brother’s fine, Beck said, knowing the real reason that had drawn me out. They already evacuated him.

They evacuated Max? How? When? I asked, not sure if I should feel reassured or terrified. This wasn’t the safest place anymore, but the open road wasn’t that great either.

As soon as the quarantine was compromised, they got all the medical out, Beck said and looked uneasily at Harlow and Sommer. You shouldn’t be out here. You should’ve stayed in your rooms.

The second floor has been compromised too, I told him darkly. We just saw the zombies rush up there.

Beck stared down the hall towards the stairwell, debating whether or not he should go help them, or if he should stay to help us. If I’d been a more selfless person, I would’ve sent him up there. But I needed his help, and I didn’t want him on a suicide mission.

You’ve got to get out of here, Beck said. He nodded in the other direction and put his hand on my back to usher us away.

Where are they taking Max? I need to go with him, I said, but Beck didn’t answer. He was too focused on getting us out of the school alive.

Three zombies stood by the exit, as if they were waiting to stop people from escaping. Since there weren’t many, Beck shot them down quickly.

Why were they just hanging around like that? Harlow asked, referring to the fact that zombies were usually in motion. I don’t know if I had ever seen any of them just loitering around before. Even ones that were missing legs would crawl around the ground.

I don’t know, Beck said, his voice cracking.

I glanced up at him. In the months I had known him, I’d never seen anything rattle him. Admittedly, zombies were decimating the quarantine, but I had seen him take on dozens of them before without losing his cool.

The metal exterior doors had been bent and broken in, blood staining the sharp edges. Already, I could hear the death groans, and when Beck and I looked outside, I could see zombies gathering around the outside of the school, moving like a very slow mosh pit.

What the hell is going on? I asked. 

Hundreds of them have descended on the building like they were drawn here or something, Beck said, returning to his usual matter-of-fact tone. They’ve trampled the fence for the most part. If I distract them, you can make a run for it.

You can’t stay behind, I said. It’s a lost cause. You have to make a run for it with us.

I’m not sure exactly where they took your brother, Beck went on as if I hadn’t said anything. There is another quarantine zone near Wyoming, so maybe there. If you keep going north, you’ll find something. There are rumors that the zombies move slower in the cold. So maybe that will help.

We’ll go north together then, I reiterated.

When I open these doors, I’m going to run towards the zombies, shooting, Beck said, ignoring me. The three of you need to run for an opening in the fence and keep running. You can’t stop, no matter what happens.

I shook my head. Beck. Just come with us. If we all move quietly and quickly, the zombies won’t even notice us.

Soldiers were shouting, somewhere on the lawn outside of my vision, and a lot of the zombies were rushing to take them out. The rest kind of wandered around, occasionally fighting amongst each other.

No, I can’t go with you, Beck said gravely. 

I still didn’t understand, so he pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the crescent shape of teeth marks in his arm. My heart clenched but I tried to keep my face blank.

Even after all the death and destruction I’d seen, I still couldn’t reconcile this. Beck had been invincible since I met him. Without him, Max and I never would’ve survived. He made sure we were both safe and helped us as long as we’d been here. And through it all, he was calm and kind and patient.

They’re getting restless, Harlow said and pulled me from my thoughts. The gaggle of zombies seemed to be making their way towards the door.

You’ve got to go, Beck commanded. His voice was strong, and his eyes were moist. You don’t have any more time if you want to make it out alive, and Max needs you.

I nodded, unable to think of something to say. I knew this would be the last time I’d ever speak to him, but I had nothing. I just turned and leapt through the broken doors.

His gun fired behind me, and I couldn’t look back. I ran as fast as my legs would move.

Mangled fencing and barbwire had been trampled and bent all along the perimeter of the lawn. I stumbled on the fencing, but I caught myself. Tears threatened my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Zombies growled and groaned all around me, and I didn’t have any time to waste on emotions.

The school lay on the edge of town, and nothing but desert stretched out before us. My feet pounded on the dirt, and my legs burned from running. A pain shot down my side, and I felt like throwing up.

I didn’t stop until I heard Harlow yelling my name.

Remy! Harlow yelled. Remy! Wait!

Reluctantly, I stopped and turned around. I gasped for breath, but I liked that better. I liked it when my body hurt so bad I couldn’t feel anything else. It was almost freeing.

In the moonlight, I saw Harlow and Sommer trailing behind. Way off in the distance, I could see the Sonoran quarantine zone. I’d made it much farther than I thought.

The only reason I could still see the school was because it was on fire. To contain the infection, they must’ve decided to burn it to the ground, and burned up any survivors who might still be in there.

I watched the fire and tried not to think about Beck or any of the others that I had known. Our breath came out ragged and loud, so I could hardly even hear the cries from the quarantine.

I didn’t notice the zombie creeping from the shadows after Sommer, not until she started to scream.

2

By the time I raised my gun, he was already on her.

Sommer tumbled to the ground with the monster clinging to her back. His claws raked down her arms, and his frothy drool spilled over her. Just before his teeth sunk into the soft flesh of her neck, I fired at him.

Gelatinous blood sprayed out from the wound, and his head tilted back. He slumped down, drooling and bleeding all over Sommer’s fresh cuts. She was still screaming when she scrambled out from underneath him.

But it was already too late.

Sommer, you’re okay, Harlow reassured her as she ran to her aide.

Harlow had been standing off to the side, stricken and shocked while the zombie attacked, with her gun forgotten in her hand. As soon as I had shot the zombie, she burst into motion. She dropped her revolver and rushed over to Sommer.

Harlow put her hands on her shoulders, mindful of the scratches, and tried to snap Sommer out of it. When Sommer finally stopped screaming, she just stared vacantly, and while it wasn’t much better, at least it was quiet.

The zombie made a hollow breathing sound, so I walked over to make sure he was dead. I had blown off half his face, thanks to the close range, and he stood no chance of getting up again. Still, he kept breathing. Part of me really wanted to shoot him again, but I couldn’t waste the bullets.

I stepped back and scanned the darkness. We were in the Sonoran Desert somewhere in Arizona, and the land around us was barren, save a few shrubs and rocks. The whole world felt more deserted than ever before, and the vegetation seemed happy to accommodate.

The flames from the quarantine billowed higher, making it easier to see that nothing was coming. Most of the zombies had been in a hurry to get there. The one that had gone after Sommer had likely been a straggler, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

Are more coming? Sommer asked.

I think they’re all at the barbecue, I said and lowered my gun. Do you have any cuts on your hands, Harlow?

She abruptly let go of Sommer and started wiping her hands roughly on her skirt, stained with blood from the zombie and Sommer.

No, I don’t. She shook her head but kept her eyes locked on Sommer.

Come on. We have to keep moving, I said and started walking again. Harlow shot a confused look between me and Sommer, then picked up the revolver and followed me.

Where are we going? Sommer jogged after us, but I stopped.

Swallowing hard, I turned back to face her. No. You can’t come with us.

Sommer’s arms were covered in scratches, and the way the zombie had drooled and bled all over her, she had to be infected.

What? Sommer didn’t understand at first, then frantically wiped at her arm, as if she could just wipe off the virus that was already curdling her blood. No. It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine.

I shook my head grimly. I can’t take the risk.

You can’t just leave me out in the middle of the desert! Sommer cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She was a small, terrified girl, and she’d just been injured. I didn’t want to leave her out here, but I had only two options in this situation, and she would like the second one even less.

I’m sorry. I turned away from her, but she kept following us.

What if more zombies come? Sommer asked.

I’m sorry, I repeated. Fighting back tears, I kept my voice even. I still had the shotgun in my hand, and when she kept approaching, I aimed at her. You aren’t coming with us.

But what if I’m not infected? Sommer pleaded with me as Harlow watched.

I have to get to my brother, and I can’t do that if you turn into a zombie and kill us. I would rather not waste the ammo on you, and if I leave you here now, you at least have a chance of survival.

But… Sommer didn’t have an argument for that, and her whole body slacked.

She stared helplessly at me, and I wished I had something better to offer her. I knew she wouldn’t try to follow us this time, so I turned my back on her and kept walking north.

I’m sorry, Sommer, Harlow said, waiting behind me a moment longer. I’ll never forget you.

Sommer didn’t say anything, but I don’t know how anybody could respond to that. We’d just left her in the desert to die.

I’d just created another vessel to spread the damn virus. I made the zombie problem worse, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill her. Not when she was still a person, with rational thought and emotions. I wouldn’t hesitate once she was a zombie, though, and I hoped I didn’t run into her then.

Harlow hurried to meet my pace, and neither of us said anything for a while. I glanced over at her, and I could see the moon glinting off her silent tears. I tried to think of something comforting to say, but I had nothing.

I hadn’t even shed a tear over Beck, and as soon as I realized that, I pushed it from my mind. I didn’t want to cry for him or anyone else.

Maybe I should’ve left her my gun, Harlow said at length.

She still held it, so I took it from her and clicked on the safety. The last thing I needed was for her to shoot off her foot or something.

You need it more, I reminded her.

I handed the gun back to her. Harlow shoved it in the waist of her skirt, and it looked weird and bulky in her outfit.

She wore a lace trimmed skirt and a matching camisole, with a loose cardigan hanging over it. She had a messenger bag covered in glitter, overflowing with her belongings. Her long blond curls that framed her face were speckled with greenish blood, and a gold cross hung around her neck on a chain. To top off the ensemble, she had on black combat boots that were at least a size too big. With the gun shoved in her skirt, she was the poster child for post-apocalyptic fashion.

I clicked the safety on my own gun and wedged it between the strap of my messenger bag and my back, so I wouldn’t have to carry it. The farther we walked, the quieter it got, and I would be able to hear a zombie coming from a mile away.

What if she doesn’t turn into one of those zombies? Harlow asked.

Have you ever seen anyone have an exposure like hers and not turn into a zombie? I countered.

Well, no, she admitted quietly. Why didn’t you say anything to her?

Like what? That I’d never forget her? I shook my head. I hope I do forget her. I don’t want to remember every person who died. That’s far too many people.

What about that soldier? Beck? Harlow asked. I swallowed hard and quickened my pace. Was he your boyfriend?

Don’t be ridiculous, I said. He taught me how to shoot.

When Beck had found my brother and me, it was a miracle we were still alive. I didn’t know anything about survival or fighting off zombies, and Beck taught me everything I know. Without him, I’d never have been able to make it through the last few months.

Were you in love with him? Harlow asked, matching my pace.

I don’t wanna talk about it. 

Sorry, she said, but she wasn’t easily deterred. Within a minute of falling silent, she started asking me questions again. Where are we going?

North. Another quarantine.

Why? Harlow asked.

To find my brother. I glanced down at her. Weren’t you listening when I was talking to Beck?

Yeah, but I didn’t really understand. He said something about them evacuating your brother. Why would they do that?

Because the quarantine was compromised.

Why didn’t they evacuate all of us? Harlow asked.

I don’t know. I’m not in charge of the army.

But he was sick, right? That’s why he didn’t live with us? She had asked me about him before when we slept on neighboring cots in the classroom. I hadn’t said much then, and I didn’t want to say much now.

I sighed. Right.

What is he sick with?

I don’t know, I said.

But that’s weird that they would evacuate a sick kid, but not a bunch of healthy people. She talked more to herself than to me, so I didn’t feel the need to respond. When you think about how low the population is, it’s even weirder that they’d prioritize one sick kid over all of the healthy people they left on the second floor.

I ignored her and walked even faster. By now, I was almost jogging, but she somehow kept with me, even though she was shorter than I was.

How old is he? Harlow asked. 

He’s eight.

What’s his name?

Max, I grumbled and slowed down. I couldn’t waste all my energy trying to hurry her into dropping the subject. His zodiac sign is Pisces, his favorite color is green, his eyes are blue, and he loves spaghetti but hates meatballs. Is there anything else you’d like to know about him?

No, Harlow said, sounding dejected. Sorry. I glanced over at her, and she fiddled with her cross necklace. I just wanted to talk so I wouldn’t have to think about everything that happened back there. I actually felt safe there, for the first time since before my mom died.

I exhaled and guilt crept in. I was one of the very lucky few who still had a surviving family member. Max and I were orphans, but we had each other. The only thing Harlow had was… well, me.

I softened. I know how rough this is. I try not to think about any of it, ever.

I know. Me too. Harlow kept fidgeting with her cross necklace, but she looked up at me as we walked. It is weird what happened back there, right?

Weird is kind of a relative term, I said. It wasn’t that long ago when zombies would’ve been defined as weird.

Yeah. Harlow smiled at that. I meant the way they were all together. I’d never seen so many of them all at once. Usually it’s like five or maybe ten. There had to be hundreds back there, to take out that many soldiers.

There weren’t that many soldiers, I said, deflecting the point she made. There were only about fifty who were armed, and two hundred or so of us civilians.

But the zombies were working together, Harlow pressed on. Didn’t it seem that way? That the zombies had planned the attack?

Zombies can’t plan anything. I shook my head. If they were capable of rational thought, then they’d be people. The infection eats at their brain, stripping away all the things that make us human.

I know that’s what they told us, Harlow said. But how much do they really even know about the virus? It hasn’t even been a year since the outbreak started, and then once it started spreading, everything pretty much shut down. Nobody is an expert on it.

All I know is that if you shoot them in the head, they die. If you get their blood or saliva in an open wound, you die, I said. That’s all I need to know.

I just think this whole thing is weird, she muttered.

Yeah, this whole thing is weird, I agreed. Don’t try to make sense of it because you can’t. Everything is just really, really messed up.

If you really believe that, then why are you trying so hard to find your brother? Harlow asked.

Because. He’s my little brother. If the world is gonna end, I’d like to be with him.

And you don’t know where he is?

I’ll find him. I was surprised by my own conviction, but I knew that I could. I’d made it through everything with him. Finding him at a government quarantine couldn’t be that hard.

I didn’t know exactly where we were, and I wasn’t that familiar with the southwestern United States to begin with. Max and I lived in Iowa before all this happened, and then we started running. We kept moving until Beck found us and shipped us out here.

City and state delineations didn’t matter as much as they once had. Everything was an abandoned wasteland anyway.

When the sun started rising to my right, I knew I really was heading north. I tried to navigate by the night sky, but other than Orion, constellations remained a mystery to me.

If we ever found a city, I’d have to look for a compass. And maybe a map. As it was, I hadn’t seen any roads or signs. We were wandering blind in the desert, the sun was coming up, and we didn’t have any water.

We approached a hill, covered in dry brush and loose sand. I climbed up, my feet slipping on the ground, but Harlow lagged behind me.

I’m tired. Harlow had been quiet for a long time, and her voice pierced through the silence. It didn’t help that I was getting tired, too. And thirsty.

If you see a drinking fountain and a bed, feel free to stop.

Can’t we take a break at least? Harlow asked. There aren’t any zombies around.

We’re not stopping until we find some place safe to stop at. We need to cover as much ground as we can during the daylight.

Harlow opened her mouth to say something else, but I shushed her. I heard something.

I’d scrambled to the top of the hill and knelt down, so I was mostly hidden. I squinted and made out shapes on the horizon. It sounded like a death groan, but there was something else. Almost like a grunt and a growl. I couldn’t place it, but I didn’t think it was a zombie.

We could turn and go in the other direction and completely avoid them, and that might be the smart thing to do. But I didn’t want to veer off course, not when I was pretty sure that I was headed in the right direction.

Besides, after watching everyone I know get killed by zombies last night, it might feel good taking some of them out.

Harlow crouched next to me. I showed her how to click off her safety, and I took out my shotgun. There were definitely zombies, I could see them, but something else made a strange guttural roar. It didn’t really make sense.

Then I finally put it together, and I stopped and stared.

3

Is that… a lion? Harlow asked, sounding just as shocked as I felt.

A truck had been tipped on its side and attached to the truck bed with a logging chain appeared to be a lion. The big cat didn’t have a mane but looked fully grown, so I assumed it was a lioness. Surrounding her were several corpses, and a semi-circle of living zombies.

She paced back and forth, and the zombies kept trying to eat her or tear her apart or whatever it was they wanted to do with a lion. But she swatted at them with her giant paw. While we watched, she caught one of the zombie’s legs with her claws and completely tore it off.

Harlow and I were huddled at the top of the hill, and the zombies were too focused on the lion to notice us. If we gave them a wide enough berth, we could get around them without any problems.

But the lion kept making that weird low growling, sounding distressed and terrified.

Stay here, I said, getting to my feet.

What are you doing? Harlow asked in a frightened whisper, but I didn’t answer her.

I didn’t have much of a plan, but I had to do something. Animals were immune to the virus, and the lion would be the first thing I’d helped in months that could actually live if I intervened. I could save her.

If she remained chained to the truck, she would certainly die. If I let her go, she might kill Harlow and me. But since somebody had chained her up in the first place, I assumed she was at least partially tame. 

When the lion spotted me coming over, she stopped. Her tail twitched and one of her ears bent back, but she didn’t growl.

Unfortunately, the zombies noticed me about the same time she did. A dirty zombie started charging towards me. I could shoot him, but I was afraid a gunshot would startle the lion.

I pulled my gun out, holding it by the muzzle. When the zombie got close enough, I swung it like a baseball bat. My shoulders jerked on impact, and it made a wet cracking sound as the head smashed in.

That one summer I spent playing T-ball had finally paid off.

Another zombie charged towards me, but this one was much taller and fresher, based on how intact his body and skin still looked. I couldn’t knock his head off. I bent down and swung the gun across his ankles, taking his feet out from under him so he collapsed onto his back. Before he could stand up, I ran to his head and slammed the butt of my gun down on his head.

Since he was a fresh zombie, crushing his skull is not so easy. The first blow stunned him, but I had to slam it down twice more before it finally smashed into his brain, and he stopped moving.

Even though I knew they were zombies, that they weren’t people anymore, the sound of breaking bone always made me sick. The sight of their splattered blood on my clothes didn’t help either, but I didn’t even have time to worry about it before another one raced at me.

I rammed the gun forward, using it like a sword to impale the zombie in the stomach. She’d had the virus for a while, so she’d started to decompose, and her body felt like jelly when I stabbed her through.

It wasn’t until then that I realized she was a kid. I hated kid zombies.

She stopped moving, but only because the gun didn’t let her go farther forward. She reached her short arms out at me, with chunks of pudgy flesh falling off, and I jerked back, taking the gun with me.

I wasn’t about to do hand to hand combat with a rotting kid, so I shot the zombie in the head, and she crumpled to the ground.

The gun blast startled the lion, and she moved back with her ears flattened. But it also startled the last zombie, who stumbled into the lion’s range on his way toward me. The lion pounced on his back and tore into his throat, decapitating him in a matter of seconds.

Are they all dead? Harlow called from behind me.

Yeah, I think so. I looked around to be sure, but I couldn’t see any moving zombies.

The lion licked the blood off her lips and stared up at me with calculating eyes. She had been pretty damn vicious, but maybe that was just directed towards zombies.

Harlow stood next to me and said, You’re gonna let her go.

I’m going to try anyway, I admitted.

What if she rips your arm off? Harlow asked, but she didn’t sound worried.

Shoot her, I guess. You know how to use the gun.

I took slow deliberate steps closer to the lion but stayed out of the range of her chain, which was helpfully marked by the zombie body parts and the steps from her pacing. Harlow stayed a few feet back behind me, but I heard her cock the gun, in case she needed it.

The body of a dead man sat inside the cab of the truck, with the forehead smashed in. It hadn’t even bloated up yet, the way bodies did when they sat in the sun all day, so he likely hadn’t died all that long ago.

Another body lay a few feet from the truck, but still out of the range of the lion. It’d been torn apart, and it was safe to say that zombies had gotten it. A highway ran about twenty or thirty feet on the other side of the truck.

What happened? Harlow asked as I checked out the scene.

I think a couple were driving, and they went off the road and crashed, I surmised. One of them died in the wreck, and the zombies got the other one. And for some reason, they had a lion chained up in the back.

Do you think she’s friendly? Harlow asked.

I eyed up the lion, and her tail kept flicking back and forth. Maybe. But I don’t know how friendly lions can really be.

I took a careful step closer to the lion, and she didn’t react. When I got to the edge of her reach, I waited a beat. I half-expected her to pounce, but she was unmoving, other than her eyes following my every movement.

I wasn’t foolish enough to go and undo the chain from around her neck, so I headed towards the truck. I held my hands out in front of me and made sure I always faced her. In the back of my mind, I was freaking out about how reckless I was being.

All I wanted to do was get to my brother, and I was risking my life trying to free a dangerous cat.

I got to the truck without her mauling me, but I found a new problem. The chain was looped through a hole in the truck bed, held in place with a giant lock in need of a key. I’d never tried shooting through a chain to break it, and this was a hefty logging chain strong enough to hold a lion.

Aw, hell. I looked back at Harlow. She had the gun pointed at either the lion or me, I’m not sure which, and her hands were shaking. Harlow, put the gun down.

Are you sure? she asked, but sounded relieved and immediately dropped her arms. If we ever found extra bullets, I’d have to teach her how to shoot.

I need you to go into the cab of the truck and get the keys, I said. The chain is locked to the truck, and I need a key.

She scowled. But there’s a body in the truck.

There are bodies all over. Please just get the keys before the lion eats me.

Why don’t we just leave her here? She was tired, scared, and did not want to crawl around a decomposing corpse. I mean, you left Sommer —

Just get the damn keys, Harlow! I snapped before she could finish her thought. I didn’t need to be reminded of all the people that I couldn’t save.

When I shouted, the lion bent back her ears but didn’t move. Harlow opened the door to the cab of the truck, and flies swarmed out. She made a retching sound as she climbed inside.

The lion started pacing, and I again cursed at myself because I could die over this.

Harlow leapt out of the cab, and she immediately began throwing up in the sand. I looked away, but the lion watched with intense fascination, her tail once again flicking wildly.

I have never smelled anything that bad in my entire life!

Yeah, that sounds awful. Can you toss me the keys please? I asked.

Harlow spit a few times, pushing dirty tangles of hair back from her face, then stood up and threw the keys at me, where they landed at my feet.

What happens when you let her go? Harlow asked as I picked them up.

What? I asked absently as I started trying keys in the lock. 

I mean, she’s not gonna be on a chain. What if she wants to eat us? Harlow asked as soon as I’d unlocked the lion.

She won’t eat us, I decided because I needed it to be true, and I pulled the chain free from the truck before I could talk myself out of it. I threw it to the ground where she could see the end was untethered.  There you go! You’re free! Go!

The lion stared at me. I don’t know what I expected her to do, but it wasn’t this. Her tail moved more slowly, but she wasn’t going anywhere. I waved my arms to shoo her along, but she just bent an ear back and looked around.

I walked back to Harlow and picked up my gun. It was slick with zombie blood, so I wiped it off on my jeans. As soon as we got some place we could rest, I had to change these pants. They were disgusting.

The lion kept staring at us, so I carried my gun as we walked towards the highway, in case she decided to pounce. We made it halfway to the road when the lion started walking in our direction. She wasn’t running, like she was chasing us, but she had some pep in her step.

Should we do something? Harlow asked.

Like what?

I don’t know. She kept glancing back over her shoulder at the lion. Is she hunting us? Are we safe?

She’s just following us, probably because she doesn’t know where else to go or what else to do, I said. She’s obviously raised in captivity, so she trusts humans and has no idea how to be a wild cat in a zombie desert. We’ll keep an eye on her, and if she tries to start something, I’ll take care of her.

The lion did get closer as we walked along, but she eventually found a comfortable distance about ten feet behind us.

Eventually, Harlow stopped being freaked out by it. The sun had gotten higher, and it beat down on us. She pulled her hair back into a loose bun, which was the way I always wore my long hair. I had been wearing a button up flannel shirt over my tank top, and I tied it around my waist.

I am so tired and thirsty and my feet are killing me, Harlow said, and it was too tired to even be a whine.

She trudged along, dragging her feet on the road. The lion walked a few feet to the side of her, and that didn’t even bother her anymore. She shoved her cardigan in her messenger bag, but one of the sleeves hung out, dragging on the ground.

We’ll get there soon, I said.

Where? Harlow asked.

There. I pointed at a dark spot on the horizon. I had been seeing it for a while, but we were close enough now where I could be certain it was something.

What? She perked up a bit and squinted in the distance. Are those houses?

I think it’s a town.

It was hours later when the sun was setting by the time we reached an abandoned development on the edge of the town. Wooden skeletons of houses jutted out from rocks and sand. Backhoes and equipment lay discarded in half-dug basements. Several houses were in the middle of being built when construction had abruptly stopped.

It was always so strange seeing the clear reminder the world had just completely grinded to a halt, almost overnight, when the zombie virus took over. 

We checked inside the first house that had all four walls and a roof, but the inside had barely been touched. It had no fixtures or furniture. The next few houses were in a nearly identical state until we finally found a completed cul-de-sac. In the center was a giant McMansion with all the signs of life, including blood on the open front door.

I slowly peered inside, and happy family photos greeted me in the entryway. I stepped in a bit more to find slightly mauled art deco furniture and blood splatters on the floor. Harlow pushed past me and darted inside.

Somebody lived here! she squealed.

Harlow, slow down! We don’t know if anything’s been living here, I said but didn’t stop her. The blood looked old, and if we didn’t get something to drink soon, we were all in trouble.

Harlow had already thrown open the fridge when I got to the kitchen. We needed bottled water. Tap water tended to be a hit or a miss and had the possibility of being contaminated.

Harlow yanked out several bottles of Fiji water, and I grabbed one. They were warm, and the fridge reeked of spoiled food, but I didn’t care. I opened the bottle and drank from it greedily.

We both finished a whole bottle of water before I realized that the lion had to be even thirstier than we were. She’d been following us throughout the development, and I heard her chain dragging on the travertine floor tiles as she wandered around the house.

Kitty, kitty! I shouted, and Harlow gave me an odd look. Here kitty, kitty! Ripley!

Ripley? Harlow questioned.

Yeah, I figured if she’s gonna be following us around, we ought to give her a name.

She raised an eyebrow. But Ripley?

I shrugged. She’s badass. You saw what she did to those zombies. So she needs a badass name. Like Sigourney Weaver in those Alien movies.

Harlow shook her head. I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Sigourney played Ripley, and she killed everything, I tried to explain. She was the toughest chick I’ve ever seen.

All right. Whatever. Harlow had already turned to walk away. I’m gonna go see if I can find anything useful.

Ripley! I yelled again. Here kitty kitty!

Harlow screamed and dropped her bottles of water as the lion ran by with the massive chain clattering behind her, and then the big cat dove on the marble kitchen island. It scared the hell out of me, too, but I tried not to show it. Ripley flicked her tail and stared down at me.

Rude cat, Harlow muttered as she collected her water and headed off to scout out the rest of the house.

I rummaged through the cupboards and found a metal baking bowl. I set it on the kitchen counter across from the island and started filling it with water.

Ripley jumped from the island to the counter and began drinking before I’d finished. She made a happy sounding guttural noise as she lapped it up. 

Yeah, you like the name Ripley, don’t you? I nodded as if she’d actually agreed with me.

Close up like this, I could see the way the chain had chafed her neck, leaving it red and raw, and even bloody in places. Since she was seemingly content drinking the water, it was probably a good time to take care of it.

The chain was thick metal secured around her neck with a heavy-duty carabiner clip, so it wouldn’t be that hard to remove. Assuming that the lion didn’t take me going toward her neck as a threat and decide to attack me.

I moved slowly and cautiously, and I repeatedly murmured words of comfort, like, Good kitty. Easy girl.

First I gently touched her side, and her skin twitched, but she didn’t move or react otherwise. I took that as a good sign, so I plowed on ahead, and I began unscrewing the clip. The whole time, Ripley remained still, other than her tail flicking or an occasional flick of her ear.

Finally, the clip was free, and the chain clattered down to the countertop. The lion looked at it in surprise and touched it with her massive paw. I stepped back from her as soon as the chain was off, and she looked back at me thoughtfully. She made a guttural sound that could only be described as happy, and when I held my hand out toward her, she leaned into it for a head scratch.

You are a good kitty, I told her, and I took the chain away to put with the rest of our stuff. It had no business being on the lioness, but it could still be useful to us in other ways.

While Ripley drank her water and Harlow explored the rest of the house, I went to the pantry to look for food. I found a couple cans of salmon, tuna, SPAM, and baked beans, and that was about it for things we could actually eat. A lot of stuff had gone bad or been damaged to the point it was unusable.

The whole house had been ransacked by something else, and by the random, bloody state of everything, I guessed it was a zombie.

I set all the edible food on the counter and decided I needed to hit a bedroom for some new clothes. The ones I was wearing were ratty and covered in blood, and the few extra I had in my messenger bag weren’t much better.

I’d made it halfway up the grand, winding staircase that led up to the second floor and presumably the bedrooms.  That’s when I heard Ripley growling, followed immediately by a loud clatter, a gun going off, and Harlow screaming.

4

I leapt over the banister, landing on the floor in a way that sent a searing pain through my ankle, but I ignored it and ran into the living room. Once I got there, I realized that the gunshot had come from the living room, but Harlow’s scream came from upstairs. She had likely screamed because she heard the gun.

Unbeknownst to me, while I had been making my way upstairs, two guys had come in through the patio doors off the living room, and Ripley caught them. Her chain clattered, they got frightened, and from the bullet hole in the wall way above Ripley’s head, I assumed they were terrible shots.

Ripley stood in the middle of the living room growling, with her ears back and the fur on her back raised up in anger and fear.

Whoa! Whoa! I ran in front of Ripley, blocking her from hurting them and them from hurting her.

I belatedly realized that I now stood between a lion and a gunman, and both of them might kill me on accident or just for the hell of it.

Remy? What’s going on? Harlow yelled from the top of the stairs.

Stay upstairs! I shouted.

Put the gun down! That was the young man without the gun, talking to his friend. He was the taller of the two, with sandy blond hair and reassuring gray eyes.

No way, the gunman said. The hand holding the shotgun quivered, and black hair kept falling into his eyes, so he couldn’t even take aim properly. He gestured at Ripley with the gun. Is that thing safe?

She’s a lion, and uh, yeah, she is, I said. I obviously had no idea how safe she was, but I liked it better when I didn’t have a gun pointed at me or anyone, so I lied.

Just put down the gun, his friend said. He appeared to be the older of the two, and he definitely seemed much calmer. 

It’s a fricking lion, the gunman muttered as he reluctantly lowered his weapon.

Once I could clearly see his face, I realized he looked familiar. I squinted, as if that would make me place him better. He was attractive, with dark eyes, and tattoos decorating both arms. He looked closer to my age, but I couldn’t figure out how I would know him.

Yes, and it’s her lion! The calm