Womens Fiction

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By Sophie Littlefield

Awakening in a bleak panorama as scarred as her physique, Cass greenback vaguely remembers surviving anything poor. Having no suggestion what percentage weeks have handed, she slowly realizes the frightening fact: Ruthie has vanished.And together with her, the majority of civilization.Where once-lush hills carried autos and trade, the roads this present day see simply cannibalistic Beaters—people became hungry for human flesh by way of a central authority test 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 turned a zombie and by some means 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 hands. particularly after they study that she and Ruthie became the main feared, and wanted, of guns in a courageous new world….

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Cass stopped abruptly and scanned the tree skeletons and shrubs. A flash of white, was it? Or was it only the way the light was rising in the sky, reflected off…what, though? There were only the bare trunks of the dead cypress and pine trees, a stand of dead manzanita, the low thick growth of kaysev, a few of the boulder formations that dotted the Sierra Foothills. Snap Cass whipped her head around and saw the flash again, a fast-moving blur of fabric and oh God it was white, a slip of a little dark-haired girl in a dirty white shirt who was sprinting toward her at a speed that Cass could not imagine anyone moving, Cass who had run thousands of desperate blacktop miles one life ago, trying to erase everything, running until her legs ached and her lungs felt like tearing paper and her mind was almost but never quite empty.

She curled it every morning, and she favored bright eye shadow, green that shaded to black around her carefully rimmed lashes. She’d worn low-cut tops and dresses in colorful patterns, a far cry from what she wore now, a red knit t-shirt several sizes too big that was only partway tucked into her jeans. ” Cass demanded, but the girl’s eyes flickered and shifted, and she murmured something that sounded like “yam yam” before shuffling over to where the others stood. “Something’s fucked up with them,” Teddy said.

Sometimes a dozen of them. They wander off when the sun starts to get low. ” The Beaters had everyone’s attention. The argument between Sammi and her mother was forgotten. Cass took the opportunity to slip out of the room, Smoke following her without a word. She could not stay there, watching the Beaters, enduring the scrutiny of all those people. She would wait in the office, alone, until evening. After all, she’d become accustomed to her own company. Cass added it up in her head. … Silva’s population had been over four thousand before the famine and the riots and the suicides and the fever deaths.

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