Free Solstice: A Novel of the Zombie Apocalypse by Donna Burgess Page A

Shaun of the Dead , but thought better of it. Instead, he led the way, not because he was tough, but because he felt it was his responsibility.
    Fires turned the sky pale orange, and Stu was somewhat grateful for the blazes. He wanted light, and he didn’t care where it came from. When he’d first noticed the fires, he was concerned they might rage out of control and the whole of London would turn to ash. He soon realized the almost continuous precipitation would keep things damp enough to hold back the fire. Explosions were another story, but he hadn’t seen any yet, aside from the tanks of the downed jetliner, which were ignited days ago.
    Rats and stray cats, creatures that loved the darkness, scurried through the streets, their eyes glowing ghostly white as his light touched them. In just over a week’s time, the creatures were already reclaiming the world.
    The air smelled strangely clean. After several days without auto exhaust, industrial pollution, jet fuel, or secondhand smoke—which Stu was happy to never experience again—the world smelled almost fresh. When the breeze hit just right, he caught the ripe, sickly sweet stench of rot, and wondered if it was garbage or something else. He didn’t want to find out. First things first, and the primary task was getting to George’s Volvo without becoming a lunatic’s next meal. Still, the crisp, clean oxygen revitalized him after so many hours of being inside and breathing everyone else’s recycled air. He took a couple of big lungsful, as a thirsty man takes water.
    It had recently rained, and the temperature had risen slightly. Although it was still cold enough for him to see his breath, much of the icy accumulation had melted. Stu wanted to ponder how and why the temperature had not simply continued to grow colder, since the sun no longer bothered to make its usual appearance, but speculation did no good. Anything could’ve happened.
    Their grinding footfalls echoed throughout the empty area. Overhead, clouds skated across the black sky like torn gauze. Stars twinkled, but the moon was not visible.
    “You think the moon’s gone, too, Mr. McCarthy?” Josh asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
    “The moonlight is a reflection of the sun’s light. No sunlight, no moonlight, I suppose.” Stu glanced back at the big boy. “Didn’t you learn this in science?”
    “I dunno. I hated science.”
    “And English, math, and social studies,” Brett chimed in.
    “Shut up,” Tana snapped. “We can’t be caught playing out here. One of those… others may be nearby.”
    “They’re zombies, I’ll bet,” Brett whispered to his friend.
    “All I know is they’re f—screwed up,” Josh answered, checking his language at the last moment.
    The parking area seemed a thousand miles wide, but once they reached the car, Stu pressed the button on the keychain and unlocked all the doors. He glanced back toward the store, where George stood, only a smudge of black against gray. Stu waved, and the old man waved back, then closed the door, leaving them to whatever they encountered outside.
    Stu climbed behind the wheel, which felt weird since he was accustomed to being on the left, and Tana slid into the passenger seat.
    “Do you think George can handle things?” she asked.
    “Are you kidding? If anyone can take care of Davis and my kids, it’s George.”
    “He’s old,” Tana argued.
    Josh leaned forward. “He may be old, but the dude is awesome. I wouldn’t mess with him.”
    “Those Docker assholes are no match for him,” Brett chimed in, his little-boy face hanging wraithlike in the rearview mirror. “Sorry, Mr. McCarthy.”
    Stu laughed. “At this point, your shitty language is the last thing I’m concerned with, Brett.”
    He slipped the key into the ignition and took a deep breath. “Now, here goes nothing.”
    He twisted the ignition. The engine wheezed to life, then petered out, sputtering like a smoker’s cough. Biting his lip, he tried