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    Air: A Zombie Apocalypse Short: Elements of the Undead, #2
    Air: A Zombie Apocalypse Short: Elements of the Undead, #2
    Air: A Zombie Apocalypse Short: Elements of the Undead, #2
    Ebook38 pages43 minutes

    Air: A Zombie Apocalypse Short: Elements of the Undead, #2

    By William Esmont

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    About this ebook

    When the dead rise in Houston, Dave and Chris Thompson find themselves stranded on the top floor of the Liberty Medical Center, with nowhere to run and no help in sight. With Dave's broken leg making movement impossible and the disintegration of civilization accelerating around them, they have to act fast, or be consumed by the seething horde below.

    *WARNING* This story is about 10,000 words, or 36 pages long in paperback - a little longer than a short story, but shorter than a novella.

    Book 1 - Fire: The Collapse
    Book 2 - Air: Mortal Choice
    Book 3 - Earth: Desperate Measures
    Book 4 - Water: The End of Us

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWilliam Esmont
    Release dateSep 23, 2011
    ISBN9781502217721
    Air: A Zombie Apocalypse Short: Elements of the Undead, #2
    Author

    William Esmont

    William Esmont writes about zombies, spies, and futures you probably wouldn't want to experience from his home in southern Arizona. He counts Stephen King, Vince Flynn, and Margaret Atwood as his influences. When not writing, he likes to spend time riding his bike or hanging out with his wife and their two Great Danes.

    Read more from William Esmont

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      Book preview

      Air - William Esmont

      Air

      Elements of the Undead, Book Two

      by

      William Esmont

      Now

      The image comes unbidden: a falling man, upside-down, his hands pressed tight against his body, his knee cocked, casual almost, the crisp white of his jacket in stark contrast to the concrete tower looming behind, a horrific instant frozen for all eternity. His fate is certain. His choice is made. He is free.

      I open my eyes and peer over the ledge.

      They're still there, of course, twelve stories down. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands, mill about the base of the tower, waiting patiently for a meal with a pulse. They don't know I'm here. They don't sense my disgust, my incredulity and abject fury at their mere existence.

      They can't. They're dead.

      I'm the last person alive on the roof of the Liberty Medical Center, and my time is almost up. Like that man so long ago, events I never could have foreseen have severed the thread of my life, cut short my hopes and dreams, leaving me with but two options: die free or become one of them. If I remain where I stand, the monsters at my back will overwhelm me, consume me whole. Of that I am certain. The only thing holding them back is a two-by-four wedged under a weathered steel door handle. It won't hold. It can't. Not forever.

      Black smoke blankets the western horizon, remnants of a fire I cannot see. My house is over there somewhere, three miles to the west. Only a ten minute bike ride. Thirty minutes by foot. It may as well be the other side of the moon now. I wonder what's burning. A small plane went down earlier; a Cessna, I think. It appeared out of the east, flying erratically, wings wobbling and engine sputtering until finally, inevitably, it tumbled into the tree line.

      I hear a scraping, a grinding of metal against metal, the soundtrack of my impending doom. The door. Zombies. They're almost through. Despite my better judgment, I sneak a glance over my shoulder. A bloodshot eye meets mine, locking onto me through the finger-sized gap in the door. The owner of the eye, so close to his prize, redoubles his efforts, throwing his full weight against the failing door. Soon. It's only a matter of time.

      I spy an empty water bottle, crushed and folded as if it were destined for a recycling bin. I wipe sweat from my forehead. A keening laugh erupts from my throat, a sound I've never made before, never imagined I could make. I clamp my mouth shut and

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