The Undead Situation
Eloise J. Knapp
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The dead are rising. People are dying. Civilization is collapsing.
When the end finally occurred, everything about it was cinematic. The dead came back and ate people, civilization collapsed, and no one could do a thing.
But Cyrus V. Sinclair couldn’t care less; he’s a sociopath.
Amidst the chaos, Cyrus sits back and contemplates the gore stained streets and screams of his fellow man with little more emotion than one of the walking corpses. With his cache of guns and MREs, he rather likes the idea of hunkering down in his Seattle apartment while the world ends outside.
All is well and good for Cyrus… until he meets up with Gabe, a belligerent annoyance, and the other inconvenient survivors who cramp his style and force him to re-evaluate his outlook on life. It’s Armageddon, and things will definitely get messy.
“As people turn into monsters, a monster learns how to be human.... The zombie apocalypse meets its match in sociopathic survivalist Cyrus V. Sinclair, the antihero of Eloise J. Knapp’s THE UNDEAD SITUATION.” —Craig DiLouie, author of THE INFECTION
“An action packed trip through the ‘zombocalypse’ with a unique character as our guide. Eloise J. Knapp has delivered very strong entry to the genre and I can’t wait to see what she comes up with next. Highly recommended.” —Timothy W. Long, author of AMONG THE LIVING
“A roller coaster ride through terrifying and sometimes disastrous events… Knapp has managed to introduce some fresh new scenarios into her zombie tale with some unexpected turns.” —ZombiesDrule.com
haul up one’s own bodyweight. She didn’t weigh much, but if she couldn’t get a good burst of adrenaline, we’d have to figure out another way up there. “Are you ready? You need to go. I can’t stand here forever.” After a few seconds, I felt one foot lift off and heard it connect with the brick wall as she tried to gain leverage. It was now or never. The second I felt her other foot leave my shoulder, I grabbed the heels of her boots and pushed her upward. My effort paid off as I saw her
filling the hypodermic needle with a sedative, going through the motions as she’d seen in the movies. Draw the liquid up, tap the needle, squirt a little out. Blaze clenched the needle in her hand and took a breath. Killing Gabe was too easy. If she wanted to, she could walk into her room and slit her throat or suffocate her, but that wasn’t enough. Blaze hated the girl, so she wanted her to suffer. The house was quiet, save for the old man on the living room couch. Frank was snoring loud
their lives were slipping away. Now I’d kill for a day like that. A day where an hour didn’t seem like four and every task tripled in difficulty. Blaze was abnormal, so I wondered how she perceived things. Did she also think time slowed down when the dead walked? What did she think about anything? I knew she was callous, and couldn’t give a rat’s ass about another human, but what about the “whys.” Why did the dead start rising? Why did people go crazy so fast? Why did the government fail? Or
on dragging. My body reeled in pain as I thudded down the stairs one at a time. The staircase was no longer than most, but it seemed infinitely long when pulled down it. Once at the bottom, I noticed we were in the main congregation room. Corpses were nailed up on the walls and blood was everywhere. A putrid scent of urine and feces mixed with smoke made me gag. The crazies had taken to lighting fires in metal barrels. Firelight danced on the walls, illuminating the repulsive figures nailed
the blue one, pulled the lock off, and pushed the gate. It opened. I had arrived. * * * As I searched the compound, I realized the memory of my journey was shrouded in fog. It seemed like a hallucination. I shut down so I wouldn’t think of Blaze, but that action seemed to have shut down the rest of me, too. I didn’t mind. Francis J. Bordeaux’s cabin wasn’t just a cabin—it was also a bizarrely advanced tree house. One large cabin was formed around a giant maple tree that seemed