The Zombie Project

The Zombie Project was created by Chynna-Blue, an amazing up and coming author who loves all things that go bump in the night. With like minded authors signing up to the project the idea grew and grew and is now a collection of 18 authors ready to entertain and disturb you with their stories of the dead, or undead, or the in-between – its as mind bending as time travel! Every Sunday a new story will be uploaded, starting 30 June with Bobby Salomons and finishing on 27 October with Cat Scully. Each story will have an element of the previous story – enabling the reader to enjoy the entire series and see the stories unfold. Below are links to the blog and authors sites, and here is my full story from 11 August.

Visit The Zombie Project Blog for full stories and details – follow on twitter using hashtag #TheZombieProject. 

30 June: No Place for Strangers by Bobby Salomons
“A blood curdling scream ripped through the night. As he turned around he could see it Joe standing sixty feet away from him, frothing from the mouth and panting like a dog. There was a panic stricken expression on his face…”

7 July: Someone Knows Something by Jessie Devine
“She looked at the man who raised her one last time, green and dead and smelling of rotten vegetables, before she tightened her ponytail, turned away, and stepped out into the forest. “No sympathy for the undead,” she quoted Trey aloud. “No matter who they were.”…”

14 July: Into the Maelstrom by Benjamin Gumbrell
“He looked over his shoulder, as the front of the infected skidded around the corner of the nearest street, growling through puss and mucus as they worked their powerful legs into a sprint…”

21 July: Rezerection by J.C. Michael
“The pews were shifting and the doors disintegrating as clawed hands ripped at the wood and bodies pressed to get through the ever widening gap. As shots rang out and echoed through the ancient church a smell of compost and rot mingled with the acrid smell of the fired gun. The monsters were nearly through…”

28 July: Two Red Flags and Three Black Bags by Bridget Shepherd
“We used an encoded security card, also courtesy of Frida’s contacts, to access a heavily sedated test subject—a human being or at least something that had once been human. His skin was chapped and ashen. His darkened eyelids sunk deep in their sockets. Evans and I exchanged a nervous look but didn’t dare speak…”

4 August: The Manhattan Marauders by Carey Torgesen
“The shadows were no longer faceless. Sallow skin, yellow corroded teeth, and thin gaunt figures surrounded us. There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. The nearer they came, the more acrid the stench of the air around us became. I resisted the urge to vomit…”

11 August: Red and Dead by Ruth Shedwick
“Another growl sounded and I stopped breathing. Scanning my eyes left I saw a black dog crouching at the side of the house its dead eyes trained on me and rotten teeth barred. Green puss was oozing from its nostrils and covered the snout; its yellowing canines were long and sharp, white froth covered its tongue and lower lip dropping like gloopy wallpaper paste onto the floor…” READ THE FULL STORY

18 August: Thinking Big by Julie Hutchings
“He stared at me from behind those black glasses the whole time, and when he put the cup down, he licked his lips with a pink tongue. None of our tongues were that shade of pink now. None of us was that healthy…”

25 August: The Light by Jolene Haley
“Dreams were before things were hopeless. Before I had a glowing chip unwillingly implanted into my wrist to sell me out the second I was infected. Dreams were before the citizens of Haley started to drop like flies…”

1 September: Craving by Louise Gornall
“It’s not like I can fix the zombie apocalypse with purity. If radio reports are to be believed a group of folks a couple of towns over already tried torching a virgin…”

8 September: Firebreak by Cassandra Page
“The decaying stench of zombie flesh was noticeable despite the air freshener she’d used to try and hide it; it sent rotten tendrils up her nose and made her gag. Tears stained her cheeks, but she ignored them…”

15 September: One Girl. One Shot by Kristen Jett
“It takes 2.7 seconds for me to grab the shotgun on my back and cock it. I timed it once. It looks damn impressive too. Not that the zombies care. My old faithful is in my hands, reassuring me. I’d shot my first zombie with this gun, and if I was going out, I’d take out my last with it…”

22 September: Jerusalem’s Peak by Chynna-Blue
“But turning your own creations into vessels of the apocalypse, well, that takes guts. I guess the priests weren’t lying after all. My Lord is an Avenging Lord, and all that. The only prayer I needed was the one I’d thought every day since the black choppers stopped flying over: better here than pushin’ up daisies in Whitehill Frontier…”

29 September: Manic Missions by Jani Grey
“The Z lurched forward and guttural sounds that once would have been intelligible tumbled out of his mouth. Both he and his nonsensical sounds lurched to a halt as the bear trap kept him in place. He stopped and took a moment to stare down at his bloody-black and mangled foot…”

6 October: Hickory Dickory Dead by Kat Ellis
“His face was a mess of green slime and dark red blood, chunks of something stuck between his teeth. Mouse tried not to look down, tried not to see the girl at all, but even in his outside-vision he could tell that she was dead. For real dead, not like when Mom and Dad had gotten sick and been sort of dead. Josh had had to make sure they didn’t hurt Mouse, had to make them the other kind of dead…”

13 October: Code Words by Leah Rhyne
“My left hand burns. My stupid left hand. Of course it was my left hand. It’s always been weaker, more clumsy. I never did learn to pitch with it. Not that I pitch anymore. Now I punch, I stab. If I find a working gun, I shoot. Always with my right hand. Tonight I left my weak side unguarded. I was stupid…”

20 October: The Library at the End of the World by Lauren Spieller
“The creature swung its arms wildly at me, it’s blackened fingers clawing at my sleeves. I planted my foot on its chest, then lunged forward and grabbed hold of the axe. I pulled as hard as I could, the zombie continuing to claw at my leg and arms, until the blade came free from its chest with a sickening slurp. Seconds later I sliced through the creature’s neck, the axe making short work of its decaying flesh and bone…”

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