Lost in the Apocalypse Read Online Free PDF Page A

solitude.
    Now, as she approached her home, she only hoped that she would find it as empty as when she left nearly a month ago. She worried that others had found it, destroyed it. She worried that the Infected had somehow managed to break in and make themselves a nice little home. She worried about a lot of things, but most of all, Emily worried that she was going to drink her entire bottle of hidden scotch the second she walked through the door.
    That was all she needed.
    When she got close, she saw tire tracks at the edge of her dirt driveway. They weren’t hers. She had been gone long enough that any tracks her car had left would have been washed away by now. No, these were new, fresh. They were from the last day or two, at most.
    She peeked around the corner, but wasn’t completely surprised to see a truck parked in her driveway. It wasn’t hers. Of course. She hadn’t been gone long, not really. In zombie world, though, she knew she had been gone for a lifetime. She wondered if the new residents had found the scotch. She wondered if there would be any left.
    Emily hid behind some trees at the edge of her land and cautiously walked around. She knew her woods well. When she wasn’t writing, she was exploring her property and trying to come up with story ideas.
    Now, though, wasn’t the time for idle daydreaming. Emily needed to figure out what was going on. She counted four people mulling about in the yard, acting as if they owned the place. Fuck. One or two people she might be able to take, but four? There was no chance. A millions scenarios raced through her mind. Should she try to kill them in their sleep? Should she try to burn down the cabin? The idea of destroying her home made her chest tighten. She couldn’t.
    Three men stood in the driveway, talking about something. Who knew what the hell they were going on about? A woman stood in the doorway to the cabin, leaning against it. Her arms were crossed over her chest. She looked upset about something. Emily wondered what it was.
    “You already took my damn house,” she mumbled under her breath. “What next?” She was on a bit of an incline that overlooked the house. She sat down, peeking over the hill. She peered at the scene before her. What were these people doing? More importantly, were they there to stay? If they had only just arrived, perhaps they would leave just as quickly.
    Aside from the unwelcome visitors, her home appeared to be unharmed. Trees surrounded the sides of the cabin and led into a huge forest. Emily owned fifteen acres of it, but the rest was all owned by some reclusive old billionaire who lived in another state and never checked on his property.
    Basically, it was all hers to use as she saw fit since no one else ever came out here. Now that the zombies had come, the area was even more secluded. Part of her was surprised, when she thought about it, that the group had been able to find her home. She was a few miles from the main road, which meant most people didn’t wander this far. It was just her luck that this group had, though. Just her luck. Her sister was dead and now she couldn’t even go home and get super, completely, totally drunk.
    Emily kept watching, trying to choke back the tears that made their way to the edges of her eyes. She couldn’t cry. Not now. She feared that if she started, she might not stop again. There wasn’t time to mourn Melanie. She couldn’t. And she really shouldn’t be such a wuss about something as ordinary as death. This was the world now, she silently chided herself. This was her life.
    The road was to the west of the cabin. To the east of her house was a small garden, one she had tenderly worked on and slaved over. A few of her plants were starting to come up, which she was grateful for, because to be honest, she was pretty damn sick of eating canned food. On the north side of her tiny garden was a huge, old barn. It was falling down in places and Emily never went inside. It had been there when