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By Sophie Littlefield

Awakening in a bleak panorama as scarred as her physique, Cass buck vaguely remembers surviving whatever poor. Having no thought what number weeks have handed, she slowly realizes the frightening fact: Ruthie has vanished.And together with her, the vast majority of civilization.Where once-lush hills carried automobiles and trade, the roads this present day see in basic terms cannibalistic Beaters—people grew to become hungry for human flesh through a central authority scan long past wrong.In a damaged, barren California, Cass will suffer a harrowing quest to get Ruthie again. Few humans belief an intruder, not to mention a girl who grew to become a zombie and someway grew to become again, yet she unearths aid from an enigmatic outlaw, Smoke. Smoke is her savior, and her safety.For the Beaters are out there.And the people grip at survival with their set off palms. particularly once they research that she and Ruthie became the main feared, and wanted, of guns in a courageous new world….

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But then she saw what had become of her flesh. Stretching made the wounds on her back throb, and Cass pulled her shirt up and over her shoulders to let the room’s cool air reach them. Just for a moment, just to take away the constant ache for a little while. She leaned into the stretch, and tried not to think. Only to wait, for Smoke to come and get her and take her to what was next. A sound at the door broke her concentration. Cass pulled her shirt down hastily, but it was too late. It was the girl.

There were those who had come early on for the toilet paper and aspirin and bottled water—and all the alcohol, to Cass’s relief. Now people wandered the aisles aimlessly and took random items that would do them no good anymore. A pre-paid calling card, a map. Meddlin, her boss, hadn’t made an appearance for a few days. The QikGo, Cass figured, was all hers. No matter. She didn’t care about Meddlin. The others, the fragile web of workers who staffed the other shifts, had been gone since the media went silent.

That the afflicted would comprehend the horror of what they had become, and choose to come back. Miranda had wanted to try it. It wouldn’t be so hard to capture just one, she had argued at one of the “town hall” meetings Bobby held every few days. Bobby was the de facto leader of the ragtag group of a few dozen people sheltering in the library. Miranda tried to recruit a few of the men: one who used to be a deputy sheriff, several hard-muscle types who’d worked in construction, and, of course, Bobby.

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