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Non Zombie
Non Zombie
Non Zombie
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Non Zombie

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From Garrett Robinson, author of the Amazon bestselling drama novella series, "Touch: Trilogy."

Cliff is just an ordinary nerd in the middle of the zombie apocalypse. Overnight, he's gone from societal reject to apex predator. He knows the drill. He keeps his family safe. He's on top of the world. Until he gets bit.

The next morning, Cliff wakes up a zombie. Only, not. He can't feel, he can't bleed or die, but he can still think.

Will Cliff and his family figure out what's happened to him? Can he still defend his family in his new, slow, shambling state? Will he ever get back to normal?

This first novella in the Non Zombie trilogy delivers explosive laughs and a gory, raucous look at a post-apocalyptic future where the meek truly have inherited the earth.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 16, 2013
ISBN9781301286720
Non Zombie

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    Book preview

    Non Zombie - Garrett Robinson

    Non-Zombie

    Garrett Robinson

    Published by Garrett Robinson at Smashwords

    Copyright © 2013 Garrett Robinson. All rights reserved.

    Cover copyright © 2013 by Garrett Robinson

    This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, or events is purely coincidental. Any resemblance to reality is rendered especially ridiculous by the presence of fictional objects in this story (Twinkies, not zombies).

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

    I greatly appreciate you taking the time to read my work. Please consider leaving a review wherever you bought this story, or telling your friends or blog readers about it.

    Thank you for supporting my work.

    Sign up for alerts on new projects: gbr0binson.com/be-a-rebel

    Visit: gbr0binson.com

    On Twitter: @gbr0binson

    Published by Garrett Robinson

    This book, as always, is dedicated to my wife, Meghan

    and my children, Dawn and Luke

    for whom I would beat a zombie to death

    with my own zombie arm

    And to Gareth, the Brit who had the idea

    and made it open-source

    AUTHOR’S NOTE

    Dearest Reader,

    First of all, a warning: this book contains scenes of violence, numerous sexual references and enough profanity to set your grandmother’s wig on fire. If you’re easily offended by such language and/or love your grandmother, I recommend you don’t read any further. Hopefully you only downloaded a free sample, and didn’t already shell out money. If you did, maybe give your e-reader to someone with coarser tastes? I don’t know, I’m just spitballing here.

    Secondly, another disclaimer: This book is barely horror. It’s horror because it has zombies, not because it’s particularly horrifying. It’s actually a horror comedy. A horromedy, you could say.

    The third thing I’d like to tell you is why I wrote this book. Those who know me know I'm not a fan of horror. Why, then, would I write this (ostensibly) horror novella series?

    One day I was listening to the always-amazing Self-Publishing Podcast. That podcast is what got me writing in the first place. Two of the hosts write horror, and I thought to myself, I would never write horror. It's something I think I'll never do.

    Well, never say never, I counter-argued (against myself in my own head. Deal with it). "What about Zombieland and Shaun of the Dead? Didn't you love those movies? Wouldn't you have wanted to direct them?"

    Yes, I replied to myself. But those are barely horror movies.

    Well then, why not create a story like that? If nothing else, it'll at least prove to people that you've got range.

    Good idea, me, me told me.

    So I tried to come up with something that was technically horror, but that I would enjoy writing. And then I remembered a listener call that was played on the podcast. A listener described a story idea he’d had about a zombie regaining his humanity. He said he'd love to write it, but he didn't consider himself a good writer. He offered the story up, open-source, to any of the guys on the podcast or any listener who wanted it. He just wanted to see the story out there.

    Well, I don’t think I’m a fantastic writer, but I like writing, and I think I’m all right. And people seem to like reading my stuff. At least they tell me so. Of course, the people who tell me this are my carefully-selected cadre of friends and family members who suck up to me on a regular basis, but that's beside the point here.

    So I wrote Non Zombie as a lark. And then I fell in love with the story while I wrote it. And I love Non Zombie II even more. It’s awesome. I truly believe that.

    I hope you agree.

    Garrett Robinson

    January 2013

    CHAPTER ONE

    In Which Our Hero’s Most Idyllic State Of Affairs Is Suddenly, Tragically Altered

    Z-22

    Life is good, thought Cliff Witherspoon (no relation).

    He pulled the axe out of the zombie’s head. The damn thing was stuck in there pretty tight, and he had to use his boot to help get the weapon free. The boot sunk into the woman’s head—she used to be a woman, anyway—sinking into the flesh and crushing the bone with what was, to Cliff’s mind, a very satisfying squelsplorch.

    He hefted the axe onto his shoulder, surveying the street. That seemed to be the last of them.

    All right, sweet cheeks! he called out. They’re gone. You can come out now.

    There was the sound of a car door opening, and Cheryl emerged from their Hummer—the original, military hummer, not that wussy piece of shit the consumer market had crapped out. Cheryl’s eyes darted around furtively, her twelve-gauge shaking slightly. Despite the volume of her fear, she had enough emotion left over to toss a little rancor in Cliff’s direction by way of admonishment.

    Don’t call me things like that in front of Luke, Cliff!

    Behind Cheryl emerged Cliff’s six-year-old son, Luke, his red hair sticking out in all directions. He looked at his dad in awe, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly. Cliff enjoyed the admiration. He’d gotten precious little enough of it before the world went all to shit.

    Back then, Cliff was not the sort of man you would look at and think Hero. In fact, the first word you would have thought when seeing Cliff—before the world went all to shit, that is—was Twinkies. Cliff was a man that

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