Apocalypse Bus 소설 & 이야기

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I looked out at the apartment building in the distance. Flames were shooting into the sky, and faint screams carried through the air. Linda and Tyler had hidden from the zombies by climbing into a dumpster downstairs. They were curled up in the reeking trash, shivering as they fought over half a moldy bread roll someone had thrown away. Meanwhile, I took a sip of hot soup, warmth spreading through my whole body. This was what apocalypse life was supposed to feel like. Over the next three days, I followed Duke’s guidance and swept up supplies from nearly half the city.

Jane was the first to react, cursing at me, “You bitch, what nonsense are you spouting—an ability? Go die!” David immediately turned to Victor with forced respect. “Mr. Kane, my nephew has a fever. He’s probably about to awaken an ability too. Please kill Apple and avenge my son! Our whole family will follow you to the death and do whatever you command!” “I can die right now.” I looked Victor straight in the eye. “No one knows how many years this apocalypse will last. But I can promise you this—you won’t find anyone else who can give you clean water as quickly as I can.”

he stammered, his confusion quickly morphing into panic. She didn't look at him, but her eyes flicked toward the rows of passengers in front of them. "This bus isn't for the living," she said, her voice barely audible over the silence. She explained that the moment he stepped on, the passengers—entities trapped in a perpetual loop of transition—had marked him as their replacement. One of them could only leave if a living soul took their place on the vinyl seats. Arthur looked at the man in the row ahead. The man’s neck began to creak as his head slowly turned 180 degrees to face Arthur. A dozen other heads began to follow suit, their expressions twisting into hungry, desperate masks.

It looked less like a wrecked vehicle and more like the remains of something torn apart and consumed. According to the report, the driver and more than a dozen passengers had all died at the scene. Then my eyes caught something in the lower corner of the screen: part of a license plate. It was blurred, blackened, and partly hidden beneath ash, but I could still make it out. My heart dropped. I knew that number. It was the bus we had taken earlier, the one we had gotten off halfway through the trip when Julian changed our route. If we had stayed on that bus, we would have died there too, reduced to bone and ash like everyone else.

Handwriting from twelve years ago — the strokes heavier than they were now, the flourishes drawn wide and loose, like someone who wasn't afraid of wasting paper. I turned to page twelve. A layout diagram of the bunker. Seven bunks, one incubation unit, the storeroom at the end of the hallway, the concrete-sealed door nearly two feet thick. In the bottom right corner of the diagram, a note in my own handwriting: "The apocalypse has to feel real. Push the heat up, make the water filthy — let the audience practically smell it. Rotate the insiders every season, keep one genuinely unwitting participant — protects the ratings." After "genuinely unwitting," there was a note in parentheses. Just one

Mine's already below E! [Same here! System says I've got 20 km max! There's nothing out here but dirt. Where do we even get gas?!] [This is murder! I want to go home! Please!!!] [Anyone see a gas station?! ANYONE?!] [Stop dreaming. This is some kind of bizarre apocalypse. You think the system will give you a full tank? It's forcing us out of our vehicles to scavenge!] [But I can hear... things out there… growling. I'm not getting out. No way.]

"Relax. Once you join my team, as long as you follow instructions and do your job well, you will never have to face cold, hunger, or death again. That much I can guarantee." New hires always needed some reassurance. Cyrus was not lying. Unless something completely unforeseen happened, following him meant a life of safety and comfort. "Thank you, Cyrus," Keira and Barbara said. Cyrus glanced at the rearview mirror before continuing. "Barbara, I still have one question. I hope you can answer it." "Go ahead." "The apocalypse has lasted a long time. Why didn't you contact your two cousins earlier? Why only now? And with that much snow, how did you deal with the signal problem?"

He only hoped Yuri made it in range to signal the others that they needed additional support. Less than twenty feet away, one of the buses they were using for transport was wrapped around a pole. The shadows came for them, a black tide of death. They were out running before shadows got smart, going for the bus’s tires. The blowout had the driver losing control of the vehicle coming to a stop when it rammed headlong into a utility pole. The driver didn’t make it. He was the only casualty of the crash, although others received minor injuries. All the passengers from the wrecked bus were being moved to the one on which he stood. So far, they lost two people to the shadows, bringing their total

and someone else added, " Are you a drunkard?! Turn fucking left !!" Then a bright light assaulted her eyes through the window with car horns honking and passengers in the bus shouting, cursing, calling on God. Chelsea's heart leaped, but before she could make a sound their vehicle got slammed from the side and spun off the highway and down the hill in a deadly summersault. Everything happened so fast and her last thoughts were, " Is this death?"

I just hope that this new life will be a good start for us. Unfortunately, life is never easy. We’re a few hours out of town when the bus comes to a sudden stop. The passengers look around in confusion since we’re in the middle of nowhere. “What’s happening?” Connor asks in bewilderment. Alarms instantly go off in my head. Looking around frantically, I’m about to get up from my seat but instantly slump back when the bus’s doors burst open. The driver rises from his chair with a belligerent growl, “What the─” His words are cut off when the sounds of pops echo, and his body flies lifelessly back into his seat. Screams and mutters burst from the passengers as they begin to shift in panic. A mas