Hell Happened Read Online Free
Author: Terry Stenzelbarton, Jordan Stenzelbarton
survived a few hours longer than their loved one.
From the first known and documented victim to the wholesale deaths of tens or hundreds of millions in a single day, less than a month had passed.
The victims coughed and sweated for a day or so, said their good-byes then died. It wasn’t a painful or horrifying death like in the movies, just a few coughs, a body temperature of 100 degrees plus or minus, then the brain just shut off and the person dropped dead.
Cats had also died, everything from the African Golden to the European Wildcat, from the wildest jungle cat to the most domesticated house cat, all had fallen to the virus. Other species that were known to have died were bats, horses and, much to everyone’s great relief, the common mosquito. These were just the known species to have died, others might have but all the scientists who could have looked into the death of a species were all dead. Some species of birds died, while others survived and the same went for some snakes, but not others. It was a mystery no one left alive was able to figure out.
Of the fraction of a percent of humans who survived, someone figured about 50 percent of those became “zombies.” They were not really zombies because they were alive, and they were more intelligent than movie zombies. The not-dead hid from the light of day and avoided bright lights and flames.
No one knew why.
There was no one left to investigate why the zombies didn’t die.
There was no one left to investigate why they would want to eat human flesh.
There was no one left to do anything except survive as best they could.
The not-dead humans did not eat cows or pigs or dogs that had survived their owner’s demise. The zombies only went after live humans, or, recently dead humans, which was pretty gross to watch. They feasted on the flesh with gusto, sometimes even before the victim was dead.
Oddly, they also didn’t eat other not-dead humans. No one knew why and without scientists to explain their reasoning, it just remained a mystery.
The not- deads didn’t use guns or bows and arrows or knives or any weapon. They used strength and speed and teeth to de-flesh a good human.
The humans left alive found out early that killing a zombie was not as easy as just shooting them with a shotgun. The damn things seemed to have no feeling in their extremities. You could put a bullet in their arms and legs and the zombies would continue to attack.
A shot in the torso of a zombie wasn’t a guaranteed kill as some found out too late. People had witnessed more than one zombie eating a fresh kill and the consumed flesh would just fall out the open hole in the gunshot zombie.
Killing a zombie was only achieved with a good shot to the brain stem or by putting enough rounds into its body that blood loss or detached nerves put the zombie down. They were not an easy kill, but they weren’t a major issue if uninfected humans barricaded themselves in to a secure location before sunset and stayed out of buildings they were not sure were clear of the zombies.
Something in the virus with which the zombies had been infected gave them superior visual ability in very low light and darkness, and a sense of smell that could pick up the scent of human miles away. They were super strong and while not stupid, they were not geniuses either. They would work together to break into strongholds to get at the humans inside.
Jerry had come across one other stronghold that had been raided by the zombies not far from his own farm.
It hadn’t been pretty. It hadn’t been clean. He hadn’t gone back.
~ ~ ~
Now Jerry sat at the table with the other remaining six people who were living in his shelter. He didn’t demand to sit at the head of the table; it was just the way things had evolved. His son and Eddie sat to his right, followed by an empty chair where Tony usually sat. Kellie sat at the other end of the table with Monica and Terrill on her right with an empty
From the first known and documented victim to the wholesale deaths of tens or hundreds of millions in a single day, less than a month had passed.
The victims coughed and sweated for a day or so, said their good-byes then died. It wasn’t a painful or horrifying death like in the movies, just a few coughs, a body temperature of 100 degrees plus or minus, then the brain just shut off and the person dropped dead.
Cats had also died, everything from the African Golden to the European Wildcat, from the wildest jungle cat to the most domesticated house cat, all had fallen to the virus. Other species that were known to have died were bats, horses and, much to everyone’s great relief, the common mosquito. These were just the known species to have died, others might have but all the scientists who could have looked into the death of a species were all dead. Some species of birds died, while others survived and the same went for some snakes, but not others. It was a mystery no one left alive was able to figure out.
Of the fraction of a percent of humans who survived, someone figured about 50 percent of those became “zombies.” They were not really zombies because they were alive, and they were more intelligent than movie zombies. The not-dead hid from the light of day and avoided bright lights and flames.
No one knew why.
There was no one left to investigate why the zombies didn’t die.
There was no one left to investigate why they would want to eat human flesh.
There was no one left to do anything except survive as best they could.
The not-dead humans did not eat cows or pigs or dogs that had survived their owner’s demise. The zombies only went after live humans, or, recently dead humans, which was pretty gross to watch. They feasted on the flesh with gusto, sometimes even before the victim was dead.
Oddly, they also didn’t eat other not-dead humans. No one knew why and without scientists to explain their reasoning, it just remained a mystery.
The not- deads didn’t use guns or bows and arrows or knives or any weapon. They used strength and speed and teeth to de-flesh a good human.
The humans left alive found out early that killing a zombie was not as easy as just shooting them with a shotgun. The damn things seemed to have no feeling in their extremities. You could put a bullet in their arms and legs and the zombies would continue to attack.
A shot in the torso of a zombie wasn’t a guaranteed kill as some found out too late. People had witnessed more than one zombie eating a fresh kill and the consumed flesh would just fall out the open hole in the gunshot zombie.
Killing a zombie was only achieved with a good shot to the brain stem or by putting enough rounds into its body that blood loss or detached nerves put the zombie down. They were not an easy kill, but they weren’t a major issue if uninfected humans barricaded themselves in to a secure location before sunset and stayed out of buildings they were not sure were clear of the zombies.
Something in the virus with which the zombies had been infected gave them superior visual ability in very low light and darkness, and a sense of smell that could pick up the scent of human miles away. They were super strong and while not stupid, they were not geniuses either. They would work together to break into strongholds to get at the humans inside.
Jerry had come across one other stronghold that had been raided by the zombies not far from his own farm.
It hadn’t been pretty. It hadn’t been clean. He hadn’t gone back.
~ ~ ~
Now Jerry sat at the table with the other remaining six people who were living in his shelter. He didn’t demand to sit at the head of the table; it was just the way things had evolved. His son and Eddie sat to his right, followed by an empty chair where Tony usually sat. Kellie sat at the other end of the table with Monica and Terrill on her right with an empty
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