“There was this woman, Madeline. She lived on Sanibel with her husband and little girl, Fiona,” he started. “Everyone just assumed her family was dead. That’s what she said at least. I met her once during patrol. She was walking home from dinner, and I knew just by looking at her that she wasn’t right in the head. She was skittish; kept looking back over her shoulder like she was being followed. When she saw me, she couldn’t look me in the eye.”
I thought about that for a minute. “But, Jake, that could be said for most people nowadays.”
He continued, “True, but there was something different with her. She was muttering to herself as she slunk away like a rat.”
A long sigh escaped him as he prepared to tell the rest.
“This morning Lowell burst onto the base, bleeding from a nasty bite on his hand. He was patrolling when he heard screaming from Madeline’s house. By the time he got there and kicked in the front door, the screaming had stopped. He found Fiona tied up in her room. The only thing I can come up with is that she must have been infected during the outbreak.”
He didn’t need to say anymore. It was obvious what had happened. Instead of putting her down, the grieving mother had bound and gagged her daughter and kept her hidden away.
“So, if she was tied up, what happened to Lowell?” I asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.
“Madeline must have gotten careless, or maybe she just didn’t care anymore. She had turned by the time he got there, and somehow she got the best of him. Lowell was starting to fade at this point, so it was hard to get the whole story out of him.”
“Jesus Christ, how did no one notice? It’s been months.”
“Because she kept to herself and made people nervous. No one paid her any mind,” he remarked.
This was a lot to digest, and half of it didn’t make any sense. “Wait a minute. The gunshot.” I fought to make a thread of connection.
Jake looked at me questioningly. “I’m not following,” he confided.
“Sorry,” I said. “We were doing laundry and heard a gunshot. Just one. That must have been Lowell putting down Madeline.”
He glanced at me for only the barest of seconds before looking away again. There was something he wasn’t saying, but I waited patiently for him to go on.
“It wasn’t Lowell. Well, it was, but he wasn’t the one shooting. It was me.” I felt his body stiffen next to me and he cleared his throat. “I put my friend down. He was a good man, and he didn’t deserve to go out like that.”
One stupid woman had started a chain of events that led to the demise of six hundred living people.
I turned my face to him. “Now what?” I asked.
He kept his eyes affixed upward and let out a long, deflated sigh. “I don’t know, babe. Survive, I guess.”
I nuzzled in closer and slung my arm over his chest. Daphne grunted her disapproval at being smushed between us and let out a sigh of her own. The flicker of an idea popped into my head, and I wondered how hard it would be to get to Boston. The longer I thought about it, the more determined I became. I needed to know what had become of my parents.
Right now, though, we needed to figure out how to stay alive long enough to come up with a plan. Despair hung in the air like a smothering blanket. Nothing had been easy for months, and I was under no illusions that the coming days were going to get any better.
Acknowledgements
I wish to personally thank the following people for their inspiration, knowledge and other help in creating this book:
To my husband and family, for their endless patience, love, and understanding in those moments when I buried my head in my computer and lost myself in the story.
To my amazing beta readers, for their insightful feedback and encouragement.
To my fellow authors Devan Sagliani, James Crawford, Tim Long, Mark Tufo, Kirk Allmond, Jackie Druga, Stevie Kopas, Armand Rosamilia, Phillip Tomasso, Rich Haywood, Todd Brown, and Stephen Kozeniewski. Your guidance and praise is priceless. I cherish and respect each of you as friends and colleagues.
To my Bookie Monster team, for always being willing to step up to the plate and contributing their limitless talent to the site.
To Rochelle Sherman and Seth Puri, for helping me name my main characters.
To my wonderful readers, thank you for reading Time of Death: Induction.
And last, but not least, to my dog Daphne, for providing creative inspiration.
I thank you.
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About the Author
SHANA FESTA graduated from Edison State College with a degree in nursing. With her background in psychiatric nursing and her experience as THE BOOKIE MONSTER, she brings a unique female perspective to the zombie genre. Originally from Massachusetts, Shana currently resides in sunny Florida with her husband Tony and two dogs. TIME OF DEATH: INDUCTION is her debut novel.
Shana is a registered nurse with clinical experience in mental health, geriatrics, HIV and substance abuse. In addition to her clinical background, Shana has over fifteen years of experience in project management and data analytics. Apart from her full-time job, she still finds time to enjoy married life, read, review, blog, and write.
You can visit her online at WWW.SHANAFESTA.COM and WWW.BOOKIE-MONSTER.COM. Shana loves to hear from readers. Follow her on social media or email her at shana.festa@bookie-monster.com
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COMING SOON…
Praise for Time of Death: Induction
“A must read. Time of Death: Induction is the zombie apocalypse at its best. Scary, scary stuff.”
“Shana Festa’s debut novel is disturbing. She breathed creative life into the zombie genre. With three-dimensional characters and a compelling plot. Time of Death: Induction is a book you will read fast, but remember forever. Job well done!”
“Festa’s zombies are the Romero-classics, but the heroes could be your neighbors; normal people pushed too far. The characters feel genuine, and you can’t help but get involved with them. That’s the strength of this book, and like any good zombie, all I want is more!”