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All The Dead Are Here - Pete Bevan's zombie tales collection

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WARNING: Stories on this site may contain mature language and situations, and may be inappropriate for readers under the age of 18.

April 9, 2013  Longer stories   Tags:   

The third house down the street was crawling with the walking dead, three or four of which we could see and there even were more inside of the place. I thought I could hear a little crying. It could have been a man, courage and mind fled. The sound was enough to move a hard heart to pity. I have me and mine, my plucky little band of survivors, to look after, but sometimes it pays to cast a little bread upon the waters. (more…)

BABY CLARK by Xavier Braze
February 21, 2013  Longer stories   

At forty weeks and ready to pop, Carmela was already long past annoyed at her husband, and contrary to what he was always saying, she wasn’t hormonal.  Rather she was right.  She knew–and anybody with half a brain knew–that pregnant women shouldn’t be abandoned at home night after night while their husbands partied with their buddies all over downtown. Jäger-bombing like a frat boy with every skank in every bar, weeknight after weeknight, was not the way to bring a new life into the world.  (more…)

January 15, 2013  Longer stories   

Vigilance watched Prudence’s slender hands as she held the rod, her index finger caressing the line.  Every time they fished he was amazed how she could tell the tremors caused by the gentle waves from those of a fish nibbling at her worm.  Her hand twitched and she started reeling in the line. (more…)

ASSASSIN: PART 4 By Pete Bevan
January 5, 2013  Longer stories,Short stories   Tags:   



“By change of place: Now conscience wakes despair”

Martin stared intently at the lone Colonel, and the soldier stared back. Martin watched as he stood with arms folded behind his back and chest out, a stern look on his face. It occurred to Martin that this was a man who loved power. He had seen the same stance, the same impassive look in African Generals and tin pot dictators, as their soldiers committed untold atrocities in front of his eyes. It was a look that challenged all who would stand against him. Under normal circumstances Martin would change that look to pitiful pleading.


September 25, 2012  Longer stories   Tags: ,   

Chapters 6 & 7 in the “Hunger” Series

Chapter 8

“Well, I think the whole situation is verruckt, fucking crazy.”  Horst crossed his arms and sulked in the back of the American deuce-and-a-half truck as it bounced along the road back towards Ornel.

Burkhardt rolled his eyes.  “Of course you do.  You’ve always been a complainer.  Do you know that?”

“Jah,” Rudi nodded impatiently.  “You’ve never been satisfied with anything the entire time I’ve know you, Horst.  What is the problem anyway?  I thought the whole idea was to surrender to the Amis or the Tommies and sit out the last few weeks of the war.  Well, we have and we’re still alive.  Mission accomplished!” (more…)

FULL CIRCLE By Richard Gustafson
September 13, 2012  Longer stories,Short stories   Tags:   



One Month After The Darkness – Salvation


How many times have I been down this road and never noticed this place? It’s not exactly hidden, but I also haven’t been through here in years. I pull the pickup on to the shoulder, kicking up long undisturbed dust as I squeeze the truck to a stop. I step out, grabbing my 9mm and the keys before closing and locking the door. You can never be too safe; things just aren’t the way they used to be.


A TURN IN THE ROAD By Damir Salkovic
August 31, 2012  Longer stories   Tags:   


Fouchet stared at the dusty road ahead, saw the combined shadow of him and his horse lengthen before them and dug his heels into the scrawny sides of the weary animal. The horse let out a high, thin whinny; it was nearing the end of its strength, the sides of its neck streaked with froth. Without proper rest it would not last more than a day, two if fortune smiled on its rider. But Fouchet had no time to waste; he spurred the mount onward in desperate hope of finding shelter for the night.

Lush green meadows and forests stretched unbroken for miles. It was a lovely, warm spring day, the fragrant breeze of the grass and flowers thick in the air; yet the unnatural silence cast an ominous hue over the idyllic scenery. No birds sang in the canopies, nothing rustled in the verdant shrubs. In a few hours the treacherous sun that shone so warmly now would sink into the tree-tops and darkness would descend, thick and impenetrable. He could not see in the darkness. They could.  (more…)

August 16, 2012  Longer stories   Tags:   

The research is still going on in earnest at Easter Island. I didn’t know this before she told me, and with few exceptions no one that I’ve related the information to has had prior knowledge of it either.

In fact, I’ve discovered that the most predictable response to news that the international scientific community still, after all this time, is in search of a Cure has nothing to do with the Infection at all. Instead, most people look at me in shock and say, “Easter Island? That place is real?? And they do science there??” (more…)

June 25, 2012  Longer stories   Tags: ,   

“And in the second year it reached Byzantium in the midst of spring, where I happened to be staying at the time. And it came thusly. Many people saw demonic beings in human form of every kind, and as it happened, those who encountered them were struck, in this or that part of the body, by the man they had met; and  were so seized by the disease. Now at first those who met these creatures tried to turn them aside by uttering the holiest of names and exorcising them in other ways as best one could, but they accomplished absolutely nothing, for even in sanctuaries, where most of them fled for refuge, they were dying constantly. But later on they were unwilling to even listen to their friends when they called them, and they shut themselves up in their rooms and pretended not to hear, although the doors were being beaten down, fearing that he who was calling was one of the living dead…” – Procopius’ Account of the Plague in Constantinople during the Reign of Justinian (more…)

ASSASSIN: PART 2 by Pete Bevan
May 2, 2012  Longer stories   Tags:   


“Turning our tortures into horrid arms”

Martin cycled through the air, dropping easily over the gap between the two buildings. He started to twist as he fell, desperately trying to right himself, and after falling for long, breathless seconds, he hit the roof of the building fully side on. Pain exploded up his body as he skidded along the gravel. Finally, as he ground to a stop, blackness took him and he could taste the iron saltiness of blood in his mouth. (more…)

ARMORED SAINT by John L. Thompson
April 25, 2012  Longer stories   

Maxwell Jackson knelt beside the overturned dumpster looking across the trash strewn street. He held up his Sterling SMG 9mm and checked the chamber to make sure he was loaded. He looked again across the street then back behind him from where he had come. He saw no zombies hiding in the shadows. He figured they were waiting out the worst of the New Mexico heat that was always prevalent around this time of year. He wiped away the sweat from his forehead. For eighteen months, since the beginning of the viral outbreak, he had managed to elude the undead beings, moving from one place to another always one step ahead of the damned things. Usually, he would be in hiding at this time of the day but a strong sense to scrounge some business buildings for some booze had bought him here. (more…)

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