Tag Archives: zombie apocalypse

The Z Word Origin Stories – Marie

This is an origin story to one of the many characters in my first published novel, The Z Word, available here both in paperback and for the Kindle. Follow us on Facebook as well!

Marie happily ignored the doorbell as she played with her Nintendo DS. Her mom and dad called to her to answer it, but she pretended not to hear and then threw on her headphones so it would look like she couldn’t have possibly heard them over her game.

If she’d only kept them off, she would have heard the screaming.

After another half hour or so of taking care of her virtual dog, her stomach growled so she threw the game onto her bed and ran to the kitchen for a snack. She grabbed a banana and jar of peanut butter before she noticed the odd crunching sound coming from the foyer by the front door of her family ranch home.

As she stopped and listened to the odd sound curiosity got the better of her and she went into the living room for a quick investigation. She saw Grover, her dog, hiding under the couch, his little tail sticking out, and a muffled whimpering coming from the little guy. As she turned into the foyer, she dropped the banana to the marble floor.

“Mom?”

Her parents were both attacking the mailman, tearing at his flesh and apparently eating it. Her father had his severed arm and was biting a finger off when he noticed her. He froze for a moment, like a kid caught eating sweets right before dinner, and then growled.

“Dad? Mom?” They both turned on the ten-year-old and lunged for her, causing her to fall backward onto the floor. Her mom’s bloody hand grabbed onto her foot and yanked but Marie wiggled her foot out of the sock and tried to pull back. Her dad was too quick for her and gripped her ankle. As his teeth neared her flesh Grover jumped out from the couch to protect her and started barking. He bit her dad’s hand, forcing him to let Marie go. She jumped up and backed away toward her room as both of her parents grabbed Grover and started tearing him apart.

Marie screamed and ran to her bedroom as fast as she could, shutting and locking the door behind her. Her bed seemed the safest place, so she jumped into it and hid under the covers, waiting. After a few minutes of silence, scratching started at the door, followed by banging. She screamed again and realized she would have to come up with a better plan.

She ran to the window and saw her best friend and neighbor, Joey, walking into his home with his dad. She slammed her hands against the window, and Joey looked over for a second before his dad pulled him inside. Her screams went unnoticed as the neighbors’ front door slammed. She was on her own, and the hammering on the door intensified. She ran to her dresser and tried to push it in front of the door, but her small body couldn’t make it budge so she gave up and threw on a new sock and her sneakers. The banging continued at the door and she screamed at it. “Go away!” The other side was quiet for a second or two before it started again with renewed violence.

As Marie threw some things in her backpack a crack appeared in the door, which grew larger with each slam. Eventually her father could see her and started making a sound that made her blood run cold. She was out of time and ran to the window again, leaving the bag behind.

That’s when she saw Joey run out, a little blood splattered on his t-shirt. She watched him look at some nearby neighbors who clearly resembled her parents and he ran around his house to the deck between her window and his. He climbed under it and disappeared. She knew she had to go there as well. She turned and looked as the door splintered from its hinges. She yanked the window open, jumped out, and ran straight for the deck where her best friend was hiding. Maybe he would know what to do.

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The Z Word Origin Stories – Joey

The following story is a prequel to my first published novel, The Z Word. If you enjoy the prequel check out the other prequels available on my blog, like it on Facebook or order the book.

“C’mon kiddo, we’d better get back or your mother will kill us both,” Joey’s dad said to him from across the baseball field.

“Just a few more throws!” Joey yelled, and his dad just laughed and loosened his tie a bit.

“Fine, a few more,” he said. He’d really started to cherish the few minutes they played catch between the time he got home from the office and dinner. Five minutes later they were walking down the street toward home.

A man was walking behind them slowly and moaned. Joey turned and looked but his dad pulled his arm.

“What’s wrong with him dad?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. Let’s just get home.”

Joey peered over his shoulder at the man and saw the blood running down his chin and an odd look in his eyes as if he were far away.

Another tug forced Joey to look ahead of them and their house came up on the right. Joey ran ahead.

“Bet I can beat you!” His dad laughed and played along to the front door where Joey was standing bent over, panting.

“You beat me, you win.”

“What do I win?”

“You get to run right upstairs and wash your face and hands. You’re covered in dirt from the baseball field. If your mother sees you like this she’ll kill me.”

As his father opened the door Joey started to go in when he saw Marie across the yard waving from a window. She looked a bit upset, but a large hand grabbed him and pulled him into the front door.

“Let’s go! Get washed up! Honey, we’re home!”

As Joey ran up the stairs two at a time his father went into the kitchen to see what was for dinner. A quick sniff made Joey wonder if anything was being cooked in the house.

A change of clothes and a minute in the bathroom had Joey looking like new so he ran back down the stairs, jumping the last four and then looking back at them, impressed with himself. That’s when he heard a whimpering combined with a crunching sound.

“Mom? Dad?” he called as he ran around the bend into the kitchen and stopped with a squeak of his sneakers on the linoleum.

His dad was sitting on the floor as his mom seemed to be eating his neck.

“Mom?”

His dad suddenly opened his eyes and pointed at the door. “Joey! RUN!”

Joey noticed the blood dribbling down her chin and that same weird look in her eyes as that strange man on the street and knew something was wrong. She stood from his father, the man’s body limply falling to the ground, and started in Joey’s direction.

“Mom?” he whispered.

She growled and he turned and ran for the front door. Outside he noticed a few people wandering around and they all stopped as soon as he let the screen door slam behind him. They all had that same look, and Joey knew he was in trouble. He thought about places to hide, somewhere they would never find him, and his mind went back to the game of hide and seek he’d won, beating all of his cousins, even the older ones. He knew just where to go.

Come back tomorrow for the story of Marie, and who knows, maybe even a continuation of Joey’s story…where will he hide? Will Marie survive too? Find out tomorrow!

Safe in a Zombie Apocalypse

This original print, along with many others, is available on my Etsy. Make sure to check out my new novel, The Z Word, available here.

My Fellow Survivors


This zombie flash fiction piece is available on my Etsy along with many other typography pieces.

Also, my first published work, The Z Word, is available on Amazon. You can also join in on the zombie fun by liking our facebook page for contests, giveaways, prequels and lots more!

The Z Word Origin Stories – The Dane in Combat Boots (Annya)

Annya had to do something to escape the memories of him and their awful relationship. Everything in the apartment still reminded her of him even though he’d moved out months ago. She needed to get out of Denmark, leave Copenhagen behind, and what better way than to travel during holiday to the U.S.? She could definitely escape her demons there.

The long flight was boring but uneventful, exactly what she wanted for the whole trip. The plane hit very little turbulence and the landing was flawless. She arrived.

She tried to speak as little as possible to the cab driver, just a quick mention of the address of her hotel and he nodded; she was a bit self-conscious of her accent. As they waited at a red light she watched a pale woman walk very slowly, dragging her left foot, and noticed the general disrepair of her business suit. A brownish stain covered the front of her blouse, and Annya wondered what sort of chocolate concoction the woman spilled all over herself, and then forgot the woman completely as she yearned for chocolate. If she’d watched a moment longer, she would have witnessed the woman attacking an unsuspecting older gentleman walking his poodle, and might have been horrified to see his blood spurt out of his throat, freshly covering  her blouse.

The driver pulled up to a fancy hotel, and Annya was surprised at how nice it was. She looked at the address on the side of the hotel and then down at her agenda, making sure it was right. This luxurious palace couldn’t possibly have cost her so little, could it? She gasped and then realized the driver was waiting for his money.

As she paid him and got out, difficulty with her suitcase exasperated the driver. he seemed rushed.

“No, no don’t help me, I’m fine,” she said to him.

“Sorry, miss, but there have been a lot of attacks around here lately, I’m not getting out. I have a family!”

She finally freed the suitcase and started pulling it toward the front entrance as she heard a scream from somewhere a few blocks away. She looked around, saw nothing and headed inside the hotel to the desk.

“Hello,” she said to the perfectly groomed clerk . She handed him her passport to keep from chatting, and the man took it and found her room number. He grabbed a sheet of paper that shot out of the printer and asked her to sign.

After getting the key to her room she went to the elevator and hit the up button. The sound of the bell woke her up from a daydream, and she was surprised at how relaxed she was already. This trip would be the uneventful but fun adventure she needed to put all her horrible, scarring past behind her.

This story is the origin of one of the many characters from my new book, The Z Word, available on Amazon in paperback and for Kindle. Like us on Facebook.

Zombie Haiku and Art Contest

To celebrate the release of my first book, The Z Word, our facebook page is having a contest! Just click Welcome under the photograph.

We’re looking for the best zombie haiku and zombie art* out there!

The contest rules are simple. It must either be a haiku (5-7-5 syllables, 3 lines) or art that is your original work.

Prizes include signed copies of The Z Word (with a special inscription just for you!) and lots of other random zombie paraphernalia! So come by our page, like us and start posting your work!

The Z Word is available through Amazon on paperback and for Kindle!

*Artwork may be used for promotional purposes. Artists will get samples of anything created with their image as long as they give us their contact info.

The Z Word Origin Stories: Zachary

This story is a prequel to my upcoming zombie collection The Z Word. Like it here on facebook.
Click the photograph to see WhiteStag’s Etsy account where this print and more are available!

Zachary Ward was sitting in his old bean bag chair reading the recent Walking Dead when it happened. A scream ripped through the open window of his bedroom and he barely looked up from the issue. But then, who would? The second scream was the one that forced him to carefully place it on the shag carpet in the basement bedroom he “rented” from his grandmother and walk up to the eye-leveled window.

It had started. He saw two of his neighbors chased down by another, who seemed a bit slower than usual, and a bit more…gray? The slower neighbor latched on to one of their jackets and pulled the woman in, biting her arm as her scream reverberated off the walls of neighboring homes. Blood splattered across Zach’s window as her eyes met his and she reached for him.

It was time.

He ran to the comic he’d thrown to the ground in frustration and held the cover up, looking from the image to the view outside. It was definitely time.

He turned to find his grandmother standing in his doorway, the light from the basement steps silhouetting her figure.

“Mom-mom, how many times have I told you to knock first! I don’t care if you have to do laundry!” he whined. She stood, waiting for something, and that was when he looked back at the comic he’d been reading and flipped to the fourth page. It showed a back lit silhouette of someone in a doorway, a similar scene. He carefully placed the comic onto his sofa bed and reached under, feeling for something.

“Mom-mom, I would answer me if I were you…”

She made a sound, guttural, coming from deep inside, and that’s when his hand hit what he was looking for – a baseball bat. She lunged at him just as he pulled it out, and he swung it at her side, knocking her away from him.

“Mom-mom?” He looked into her eyes, a milky white. He sighed and knew what it was he had to do.

“Sorry mom-mom. You’re no longer the person I knew. I love you.” She stood again, her flowery moo moo flowing behind her as she jumped at him and he swung the bat at her head. The crack sounded different from those of the star baseball player’s he bench-warmed for. After all, his bat had never connected with anything other than wind that whole season his dad forced him to play.

She dropped to the ground, blood oozing from a crack in her skull. Zach looked at her for a brief moment and then started gathering items around his room and throwing them into a backpack. He’d been reading about these things for years now. He’d seen all the movies, even the terrible ones. The books, the graphic novels, everything prepared him for this moment. And he knew what he had to do next. It was time to save the hottest girl in his old high school who just so happened to live across the street and also, however unlikely, never pulled the blinds when she was changing. Why else would a twenty-year-old live in his grandmother’s basement?

As he burst through the old front door of her home, the screams got to him and he winced and lost his nerve for a moment. At that point he pulled out the iPod his cousin had given him when the new one came out and threw the buds into his ears after pushing random. With the bat in his hand he entered the street filled with monsters and victims alike, trying to catch some food or survive, depending which side they were on. He stepped to the other curb and was ready to swing the bat when a song started. The first few notes made him stop as the lyrics “Well no one told me about her…the way she lied” and he laughed at the irony of this song of all songs being the first to play. As he ran across the street one of the zombies came after him and he swung, this time right at its head. It went down fast as two more turned to look at him. He ran around her brother’s van parked in the driveway and checked to see if he could make it to the front door. He took off for her house and got to the door to find it locked. He rang the doorbell and turned to find the two from earlier coming at him rather slowly.

“Just like Romero said,” Zach actually said to himself as he gripped the bat tighter before thinking better of it and swing the bag around from his back. He pulled out a half-filled bottle of rum and stuffed a rag in it as they got closer, dropping the iPod and letting it yank the buds out of his ears. A quick flick of the lighter and the cocktail was lit. He threw it at the oncoming creatures and watched them ignite and fall, bringing three more into view who were apparently following them.

“Shit.”

He turned and banged on the door, rang the doorbell again and started yelling. Finally he heard a voice.

“Who is it?”

“Lucy! It’s Zach! Let me in!”

“Who? I can’t. Something’s going on! I’m not opening the door!”

“If you don’t open it I WILL DIE!”

He waited, the closest undead thing within reach of his bat and he took it down with one swing. The click of the lock turning caught his attention and as she opened the door he fell inside onto her.

“Quick! Lock it!”

She sat on her ass looking at the monsters slowly approaching and began to shake so he jumped up and slammed it shut in their faces. He threw the latch and slid the chain into place, then offered her his hand.

“Are you okay?” She nodded and then wrinkled her nose at him.

“Oh, you’re that creepy guy from across the street. You live with that old lady.”

“Um…yeah. I was also in your homeroom.”

“Oh.”

She brushed herself off. “What do you want?”

“I was trying to save you.”

“Well, I’m fine. I’m locked in. Safe. You can go.”

“We need to barricade the door, block up the windows and do a quick survey of what you have in here. Got a lot of food? We’ll need it.”

Lucy just stood there staring.

“What?” he asked her.

“Why should I share with you?”

He pulled open the curtains to get a view of the street. “You want to be alone in all this? They’re zombies.”

“They’re what?”

“Zombies. Dead people come back to life. Eating people.”

“That’s stupid. They aren’t even eating the people’s brains. Zombies eat brains.”

“Where in the hell did you hear that? It’s a myth.”

“So are zombies.”

“Then what are those?” he yelled, pointing outside at the chaos.

She looked outside and her confidence wavered. “They can’t be z- they just can’t be.”

She rubbed her arm and looked at him as sweat began to form on her forehead. “Well, what do we do?”

“We do what they always do. Lock ourselves in. Hold down the fort. Hope others find us so we become stronger in numbers.”

The two of them went to work moving furniture and blocking the doors and windows with as much as they could find. A quick inventory found them plenty of food and he filled up the bathtub with water.

“Why do we do this?”

“If the water stops running you’ll thank me.”

“What if I need to take a shower?”

He rubbed his temples for a moment trying not to yell, but ended up losing his temper a bit anyway. He yelled “YOU DON’T TAKE A SHOWER IN THE MIDDLE OF A ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE!”

Her lower lip trembled and he instantly felt bad. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I didn’t mean it.”

She took a good look at him and collected herself. “I’m fine. I get it. We’re in trouble. I’ll be tough.” She looked out the bathroom window and gasped. “This is for real, isn’t it.”

“Sure is.”

She turned and looked at him, a small smile forming. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’m actually glad you’re here.”

He smiled and felt his heart skip a beat. The hot girl from his high school days was happy he existed. That’s when they heard the thump. Zach ran down as fast as he could, Lucy close behind, to find the front door being rattled. He ran to it and pushed up against it, Lucy copying him. That’s when the window shattered.

“No! Lucy get back!” By the time she realized what was going on, a hand grabbed her nearby arm and pulled it through the window. Zach grabbed her waist and pulled her back in, and as she turned he saw the distinct marks on her arm. Bite marks. She looked at it and said “I’m fine!”

“You aren’t. When you get bit you become one.”

She looked at the cuts, wiped away some blood and passed out. He picked her up and put her on the couch.

“Shit.” He knew what he had to do. He ran to the front door and added a heavy armoire to their makeshift barricade and then went back to her. She didn’t wake up. “I’m sorry. I have to leave you. It’s too late for you.”

At that he grabbed the keys to her brother’s van off the counter, ran to the back door, turned to take a last look at the hottest girl in his grade, and left through the backyard.