The Living Dead Girl Book One: A Grave New World

By Mika Busch

Saffron loved the little Minnesota town where she lived with her older brother Shane.‭ She loved the little park in which she spent her afternoons reading and boarding, with it’s Autumn Maple Blaze and the little kids laughing in the background. ‬She even loved her school and, while she wasn’t really close friends with any of the kids in her new class,‭ ‬neither was anyone really mean to her. Best of all, Shane was due a promotion at work. That meant they could move into a bigger apartment. And that... that meant she could finally get a dog! Things were going so well. Then the dead began to walk. This is a fun, uplifting story, appropriate reading level for 10-14 year olds, about one young woman learning to deal with death and loss and independence, all alone in a town full of zombies. Her name is Saffron Mabel, she’s 12 years old... she’s the Living Dead Girl.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mika Busch
• Release date: Nov 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370116171

Book preview

Chapter One:

Saffron lay idly on the porch swing, book in hand, not really reading so much as skimming through for useful bits of information. A book about real life survival stories, this one had several chapters dealing with the cold: a man who fractured his leg while scaling a mountain, a family whose car broke down in some remote part of the country during a blizzard... winter was coming and with no electricity for the house, Saffron would need all the tips she could find. But her heart wasn’t in it.

She had loved to read, once. Books, blogs, cereal boxes... she would devour anything she could get her hands on, fiction or non. In many ways, she preferred the people in those stories and blurbs to the people in her real life.

Back when there were people in her life.

Forcing her thoughts back to the task at hand... spare socks and gloves, she would keep those in a zip-lock bag in her knapsack once the snow started falling... her eyes were drawn to movement down the street. Shambling her way aimlessly down the road was Megan Burns. Dead Megan Burns.

Saffron wondered what had roused her. Probably a squirrel or cat. Maybe another one of the dead. Movement usually caught their attention. Sound did, too. Changing to a sitting position, Saffron stilled. If she didn’t move, dead Megan would likely walk on by, none the wiser. But Saffron had never much liked Megan. The girl was a total ratchet. Pretty, but not half as pretty as she thought she was, Megan was completely full of herself and down on anyone who wasn’t in her circle. Particularly down on Saffron, who wasn’t really in anyone’s circle.

As dead Megan grew closer, Saffron noticed that some of her neck was missing, along with a good portion of her cheek. It was an improvement. Those must be the wounds that did her in. Lazily pulling her slingshot from the back pocket of her jeans, she chose a marble, a small one, and aimed for the ratchet’s shoulder. Not her head, she didn’t want to end her, just get her attention.

Plunk!

It sunk right into the rancid flesh. Dead Megan glanced down, almost robotically, then continued her pointless march up the street.

The dead were not very bright.

Saffron got up and hopped off the porch. Hey Megan! I’m over here! That did the trick. The dead were not always situationally aware but they did answer when called. Dead Megan turned and made her way towards Saffron.

Her pace quickened a bit... just a bit... but it was still too slow to suit Saffron’s tastes. Rigor mortis was a pain. Hopping down, meeting dead Megan in the yard, Saffron was careful to keep a good ten feet between herself and the dead girl. She didn’t want any surprise lurches to ruin her fun. Circling once, twice, three times... Saffron darted in, giving the bigger girl a shove. When she didn’t quite fall, Saffron ran forward and shoved again. This time Megan did fall, hard, and Saffron heard a sickening crunch. Dead Megan’s legs were twisted unnaturally beneath her. Still, she tried to reach Saffron, groping... say what you want about the dead, they were no quitters.

All of a sudden, Saffron felt spent. So much for fun. Pulling the pistol from the pocket of her cargo shorts, she ended dead Megan right then and there... and half walked, half skipped her way down the road.

Chapter Two:

It was a bright summer day. Saffron sat, back against a tree... an Autumn Maple Blaze, her favorite... and watched those around her. She enjoyed people watching. There was a young mother, with a stroller, obviously out for some sunshine and exercise. Not that she needed it, fit and tan as she was. There was a man in a business suit, intent on his cell phone... as if the park was any place for cell phones. Corny! There were all kinds of children... running, laughing, doing childish things... that was what parks were meant for. That and a nice book. Today was a beautiful day. The park, the little kids… how she loved watching the children play…

Remembering herself, Saffron shoved her laptop into her knapsack. She would not, would not, ruin this beautiful day by surfing the web. After all, today was special. She was a woman now... and her brother Shane was going to buy her ice cream.

Honestly, it seemed Shane was always looking for excuses to buy her ice cream. You got an ‘A’ in algebra? Let’s go get some ice cream. Today is the first day of Summer? We should go get some ice cream. You became a woman today? I’ve got an idea... why don’t we go get some ice cream?

It was fairly endearing. Shane knew nothing about being a woman... all those talks Saffron had with elderly Mrs Blair across the hall... but still, the fact that he tried. That meant quite a bit to her. And besides, she did love ice cream.

Saffron pulled out her cell phone and immediately shoved it back into her knapsack. The park was not a place for cell phones. Instead she pulled out an Ally Carter novel. She had read all the Heist Society books, more than once, but it was only twelve thirty... several hours before Shane would get off work. He would pick her up and swirl her around until they were dizzy and then, today, he would buy her ice cream. He would muss her curly red hair and she would pretend to fix it, as if she cared how she looked when she was with him. It was their daily routine, only today, it would be with ice cream. Brother and sister, with no one to look after each other, but each other.

Saffron lay back in the sun, basking in the warmth of the sun, content in her life, content in her world. She closed her eyes. That was when the screaming began.

Jerking upright, Saffron took in her surroundings. The young mother was bent over a nearby jogger, her stroller upturned and forgotten, ripping and shredding a man with her teeth and nails. The corny businessman had been swarmed by three children, all of whom had seemed to turn rabid. One boy, hair not quite frizzy enough for an afro but not quite curly enough for anything else, turned and, eyes settling on Saffron, charged.

Not trying to make sense of any of this, she bolted... with her board, she could out distance anything short of an automobile or bicycle. She passed the dentists’ office, and a nurse ran out the front, chasing someone with foam pouring from his mouth. She passed the library, and someone... Shelly Poe, an older girl from school... Shelly turned from chasing some man to chasing her! She skated ahead, pushing the thoughts of what was happening behind her, behind her. If only she could get home. Nothing else mattered, nothing else registered. She had to get home.

Chapter: Three

Her dreams were always the same. Except sometimes, when they weren’t. This time the dream wasn’t, not really. Her father was there, and her mother, but Saffron was just a kid this time. No more than five or six. About of an age as when her parents had left her. Had died. She was keenly aware of that fact, somehow, even in the dream where her parents were with her. They had died on her. Still, they were there, and she was a child again, and she had somehow let them down. Her father held an air of disapproval, her mother one of disappointment. What else was different with the dream this time was that she understood why her parents were unhappy. Looking down, not really needing to, she knew. She had peed her pants.

She woke to that smell, rank urine,