Story / Book title: Let it Die

Main character: Roy Mclaine
Fellow survivor 1: Holly Dalton
City: New York
Date- Present
Setting: Post apocalyptic
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Manuscript page 1 almost complete.
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SAMPLE OF STORY:

..For one horrifying moment, Roy was gripped with a fear of such intensity that he could to nothing but stare at the horrifying disfigured mass that approached Holly. “Come on damn it, move your ass! If you don't move your ass now, she will DIE.” He thought in what was probably a split second. Roy willed his legs to move but could find no strength in them and it seemed that he would not be able to move, until her sudden shriek that consisted mostly of pain, but probably some anger as well, likely at Roy for just standing there as the disfigured man hobbled towards Holly; she had broken her leg falling down the stairwell not long before this on the way down to the subway tunnels, slipping on curdled blood while she was running for a place to hide from a pack of morbidly disfigured and decaying dogs who's ability to smell was hindered by the fact that their noses had begun to rot.

“Roy! Its coming! I can't m-” she snapped fearfully at him, but the yell was cut off as she screeched in pain and rage as the zombie sunk his sharp boney and fleshless fingers into her arm, trying to bite her while she fended him off. In a matter of seconds, Roy went from an utterly paralyzing shock caused by his fear of the creature and confusion as to what was happening, to fear for Holly, and utter rage at the zombie for trying to consume his friend. He was looking around, his eyes and head darting around the visible areas of the tunnel where the light from the surface dimly illuminated for something to attack the zombie with; he was scared shitless and enraged but he had not lost so much sense that he would try to help with his bare hands. After scanning the visible areas in probably 2 seconds or so and getting more desperate, his vision was snagged by a small cloud. When he turned to see what this was, he saw it was a damaged section of pipe, giving off a lot of high-pressured steam.

Quickly and in a panic, he grabbed the scolding hot 3 foot section of piping and gave it a good tug, feeling it creek a bit and give way after a few quick, forceful pulls. Ignoring the searing pain in his hand as the flesh from his palms started to make a sizzle and slightly sick aroma of burnt flesh, he charged at the zombies back and slammed the end of the scolding hot pipe into its head, immediately causing a sick cracking noise, followed by a disturbing and muffled squashing sound. The zombie, seemingly unaffected by its cranium caving in with shreds and chunks of yellow jagged skull shattered into it, Roy let out an outraged and frustrated scream now, all fear had left his mind, and it was replaced by a repeating thought, “Its not fair, this can't be happening! Its just not fair how can this happen, we've been so careful ! I’m going to kill this son of a bitch, I'm going to-” His thoughts were interrupted when he slammed the piping into the base of the zombies skull, cracking the top of the spine and forcing the zombie forward and it made a loud outraged shriek, definitely noticing the interloper behind him now, and swung around with ungodly speed and loose limbs, but failed its attempt to attack him as he started pummeling the creature in the face until the head was obliterated, spraying disgusting brown chunks of curdled infected blood and brittle shattered pieces of bone and blackening flesh and brains stained with the decaying blood, and continued to beat it down until it finally dropped dead. The zombies gut did what he saw the others do when they died to. As if on cue, the abdomen and upper torso ripped open and a brown-red haze gusted out of the body and dissipated in the air, no trace left of the cloud, and the body fell apart as if it were a sculpture made of sand just wet enough to stay in shape until hit by a gust of wind on the beach.. Had he not backed up, he would have inhaled some of the cloud and would have fallen to the same fate as this poor soul whom he had just destroyed, rest his soul.

Roy ran over to where Holly lay sprawled out on the cracked and cold concrete floor of the subway runnel, and saw the small pool of blood, where he noticed, was originating from the punctures and torn flesh in her arm. “Sweet Jesus, they’re starting to grow immune to pain...Holly did it bleed in your wounds? Did it bite you?” He was back into a state of panic, and when she didn't answer him, he went into such a panic that he hardly noticed the speeding subway car go flying past, full of hungry half-dead men and women, shrieking as they went by; a potential meal which they missed. Roy was about to hold her close and try to do what he could, he even tossed the piping aside which was now cooled but his only weapon of self-defense, and stopped when he realized his hands were bleeding a bit from the scolding pipe, and could have exposed himself to what ever was in the blood of the zombies. ...

---END OF SAMPLE---