Posts Tagged: dawn of the infected
Dawn of the Infected by @ecruzcoleman in #LegendsOTD #uf #pnr
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DAWN OF THE INFECTED by EILEEN CRUZ COLEMAN
Never Surrender. Not Now. Not Ever.
For twenty-three-year-old start-up tech company CEO Selena Martinez, it was just another uneventful early morning bus commute from her cottage in rural Southern Maryland to her office in Washington, D.C. But when her bus is suddenly attacked by a horde of crazed savages, Selena becomes immersed in a world of terror and confusion, where she must learn to survive on her own using smarts and skills she never dreamed she possessed.
Selena is a fighter, but even someone as strong-willed and determined as she needs a little help during an apocalypse. That help comes in the form of a mysterious man who seemingly appears from nowhere and saves her from certain death. Selena will soon learn that she was saved for a very special reason, and that she may, in fact, hold the answer to saving the world.
Perfect for fans of angels, witches, vampires and fae.
Dawn of the Infected is an urban fantasy prequel novella to the Hybrid Chronicles.
Enjoy this excerpt…
March 2
It’s been six months since it all began. We’re still fighting and some days I’m not sure if we’re winning or losing. I’m getting stronger and learning to use my power more and more. I can control it now and I’m teaching others like me how to control and use their powers. I’m hopeful that one day I will know what to do with what’s written inside the journal. I still don’t know who left it for me. There are many things I still don’t know. Like who I really am. In time, the answers will come, I’m sure of it. But until that day, I will continue fighting the darkness that has overtaken the earth. It wants me to lie down and die. But I won’t. Not now. Not ever. I have decided to document as much as I can so that if I do die, and someone finds this, it will help him or her continue the battle. If you find this, don’t give up, keep fighting. Never surrender.
This is how my story begins…
A spider crawls on my leg, trailing the blood that is now trickling down my thigh. I brush it off, but a second spider engorged with another passenger’s blood, climbs on my calf and speedily ascends to my thigh. I flick it off with my finger. It lands on an old woman’s bruised face and then jumps onto the floor, scurrying down the aisle as if insulted that I thought it had any interest in feasting on the dead.
I rest my head on the back door and stare at the carnage in front of me. Body parts are everywhere, scattered on the floor and seats. The scene looks like the aftermath of a detonated grenade. My stomach turns, threatening to erupt if I don’t look away. I cover my face with my hands and scream, hoping to rouse anyone who may still be alive.
I sit very still, listening for any replies, a whimper, a moan, a whisper, anything that will let me know I’m not the only one left.
I hear nothing but my own breathing, heavy and rapid.
I know I should get up and out of this catacomb bus, but I’m petrified. They could be out there hiding in the veiled light of dawn, waiting to strike me down like a lion on a zebra foal that has strayed from his mother.
I bite at my nails, grinding my teeth as if I’m chewing a hard piece of jerky. If I was religious, I’d get on my knees and pray.
I lie on my stomach and clamber underneath a seat. I’m not hurt or bitten and the blood on my leg is from an open scab, the result of a bike accident a few days ago. If only I was in the city and had ridden my bike to work today.
I rub my forehead and temples, hoping to conjure clarity about what to do next. I bring my knees to my chest and hug my shins tightly. I slow my breathing, attempting to calm my nerves long enough to give me the courage to stand and flee.
I scream again. Somebody has to be alive. I listen, my ears perked like an eavesdropper who’s suddenly heard mention of her name.
I close my eyes in defeat. It’s true. I’m the only one alive. Okay, time to accept it and make a plan. I’ll exit the bus. I won’t be afraid. I’ve never been afraid of anything.
About the author…
Eileen Cruz Coleman was born in Washington, D.C. to an immigrant El Salvadoran mother and a Puerto Rican father. She is a graduate of the University of Maryland with a degree in History. Her award-winning short stories have appeared in numerous literary journals both online and in print. Before venturing into the indie world of publishing, she was represented by two New York Literary agents.
She is an optimist and believes that no matter how bad things may seem, there is always a happy ending coming around the corner. When she’s not writing, you can find her gardening, cooking, or watching movies with her family.
She is fluent in Spanish and English. She lives in Maryland with her husband and two children. Visit Eileen on Facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/eileencruzcoleman