The Last Coma: The Cull Stories, #4

By Zhané White

The Last Coma, a short story inspired by The Cull Trilogy. Graham has been comatose for twenty years. Showing no signs of life, he's accepted his fate. Then the bloodthirsty Cull organisation adds him to their hit list. Now he must make the biggest decision of his life: to live or die. The wrong choice will doom thousands now, and millions later. He has five minutes to decide.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amaria & Sariel
• Release date: Jul 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781501484650

Zhané White

Dark fantasy and science-fiction come naturally to Zhané White. She loves the uncanny, the strange, and the eerie, always with an essence of the world we know. If she's not writing, she's thinking about writing. When you find her daydreaming, leave her be. Wait. In time, you'll see what she sees...

Book preview

The Last Coma

I should've worn a helmet.

It was a rainy evening in East London. I was on my bike, well within the speed limit. The roads were empty, practically, most Londoners back home. I was almost home myself, my stomach grumbling the closer I got. What made it worse was the juicy sandwich in my rucksack. I could practically taste the chewy peanut butter with a hint of lemon. Why lemon? you ask. Why not, I reply.

Sorry for snapping...I just get real grouchy sometimes. Maybe because I can't release my frustration. All I can do is lie here, day in and out, staring at the back of my eyelids. Sometimes they're pitch black - that's nightime - or light black. On sunny days, they're an orangey glow. I love those days.

Graham? It's me. That soft, sad voice is my mum. When I last saw her, she had waist-length, blonde braids and the rosiest cheeks. No wonder people thought she was my sister. As always, she gave me a wet kiss on both cheeks before squeezing my hand. Her hand lingered there. If it was twenty years ago, I would've tried to squeeze back, but...I didn't. Not today. Not now. Not anymore.

Yes, I've been here for two decades. I celebrated my twenty-first b-day the night of the accident. The bike was my gift.

And a curse.

Today, I'm middle-aged. Skinny and light, all that muscle tone I used to have has withered away. The nurses used to exercise my limbs, but they gave up. They did try for five years, so I'm grateful. I miss the company more