When the World Ended and We Were Invaded: The Complete Second Season

By Rebecca A. Rogers

THE WALKING DEAD meets FALLING SKIES in this fast-paced, new adult episodic series.

All eight episodes in one omnibus!

Follow Ella, Shay, Matt, Amara, Lin, and Sarge as they battle zombies and aliens all across the American South before waging one final battle in Atlanta.

Season 2 Episodes:

Episode 1 – “Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide”
Episode 2 – “Up in the Air”
Episode 3 – “A Way Out”
Episode 4 – “Escape”
Episode 5 – “Flying High”
Episode 6 – “We Have Arrived”
Episode 7 – “Prepare for Battle”
Episode 8 – “The Battle for Atlanta”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebecca A. Rogers
• Release date: Dec 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370023936

Rebecca A. Rogers

Rebecca Rogers expressed her creative side at an early age and hasn't stopped since. She won't hesitate to tell you that she lives inside her imagination, and it's better than reality. To stay up to date with Rebecca's latest books, check out her website at www.rebeccaarogers.com, sign up for her mailing list, or find her on social sites such as Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter. Mailing List Sign-up Link: http://eepurl.com/bDDMPL Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/rebecca_rogers

Book preview

Season 2, Episode #1

Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide

ELLA & SHAY

Chattanooga, Tennessee

Tiny, pod-like spaceships emerged from the belly of the alien spacecraft looming overhead. They scattered like cockroaches, spreading in every direction, with no noticeable, pre-planned flight path in sight. One of them flew over Ella and Shay’s heads as they stood outside the motel’s entrance, next to several undead bodies that Shay had managed to kill on her own. Reflexively, they ducked, even though the pod wasn’t close enough to knock them over.

Thinking they might’ve been in the clear, Shay breathed a sigh of relief. I don’t think it saw us.

Ella turned around, her gaze glued to the miniature ship. You thought wrong, she said, pointing towards the sky. It’s coming back.

"Shit! What do we do? What do we do?" Shay shrieked.

Eyes widening, Ella responded frantically, I don’t know, but we need to act fast.

Two circular, black arms lowered on the pod’s belly, aimed directly at Ella and Shay. A bright-blue light shot from both of the dark barrels, emitting a quiet shoo-shoo noise—so hushed, both girls’ minds briefly questioned whether or not they actually heard the sound, or just imagined it.

Ella and Shay jumped out of the way milliseconds before the lasers hit the main office, wood and shingles exploding in every direction. They dived towards the asphalt, hands covering their heads, protecting themselves from falling debris. A few pieces clunked down on their backs and legs, but luckily, they weren’t very big.

Confident the bits and pieces had all but stopped raining down, they squinted through the cloud of dust, which had already started to settle.

Shay whimpered. Shit. What do we do?

Bust that motel door down, Ella replied without hesitation. We need to distance ourselves from them. It was the only logical thing she could think of. If they even tried to take a joyride in their stolen SUV, that alien would decimate them in approximately one-point-five seconds.

As if the extraterrestrial being could read her mind, it fired off the pod’s lasers, the metal frame of the SUV crumpling and sagging, until a final shot hit the gas tank. The tank blew, the force lifting the SUV several feet off the ground. As it fell back to the pavement with a screechy thud, the tires blew out with several loud booms, like gunshots ringing out, and the passenger door fell off its hinges.

Firing off its laser at the other cars parked in various spaces throughout the lot, the pod destroyed them, too.

Ella raised her slightly, noting the flames growing higher and wider inside the SUV. I think it doesn’t want us to leave, she stated sardonically.

I think we need to test your plan and bust down that door, Shay responded.

They watched the pod, which hovered about thirty feet above the rear corner of the parking lot.

We might die trying, Ella said.

Better to die for something than nothing at all, Shay stated. Let’s do this on the count of three. Ready?

Ella kept her head buried underneath what little protection her hands offered. She hadn’t moved since the main office had been blown to bits and pieces. The truth was: she was too afraid. Too afraid that the moment she stood, the alien would hit her so hard with one of its lasers she’d be blasted into another dimension.

Or she’d completely disintegrate.

Shay had kept her eyes glued to the alien pod, watching the being through the windshield watch them. But now, she choked out a squeak, smacking Ella’s arm to get her attention. When Ella’s eyebrows and forehead crumpled, forming deep ridges, Shay nodded to the mini ship.

Look, she half-shrieked, half-hissed.

Ella lowered her hands and whipped her head around to see what the fuss was about. Her entire body felt like it turned into a solid block of ice, even though she was sweating in places she’d never sweated before.

The silvery pod had landed, a set of stairs shifting from its side, as if they were made of liquid. A boot clunked down on the top step, followed by another. And then the alien emerged, its gray-green head poking out from inside the vessel. It stood at full height, which Ella estimated to be around eight feet, and its buggy, black eyes focused solely on them. It didn’t have the stereotypical, green-alien head that humans had mass produced since the Roswell incident. No, this one looked exactly like a human, just taller, and with bigger eyes and strange-colored skin.

And a weird flap near its mouth.

Gracefully gliding down the remaining steps, the alien marched towards them.

Fuck! Shay screamed. Move, move, move!

They bolted for the first motel room, barely reaching the door when they extended their legs and repeatedly kicked. Ella kept her attention on the door, while Shay kept turning around, checking on the alien’s location.

Don’t focus on it! Ella shouted. Focus on this!

Shay faced the door again and, synchronizing her next kick with Ella’s, they managed to break the door free from its lock. Without wavering, they sprinted inside, slamming the door behind them. Shay knocked the TV off its stand and attempted to pull the stand away from the wall.

Help me! she frantically commanded.

Ella pushed with all her strength from the opposite end, but it was no use—the damn thing was too heavy.

We’re wasting time, Ella stated, glancing around.

Please don’t tell me we backed ourselves into a corner we can’t get out of, she pleaded to no one and nothing in particular.

In here. She motioned for Shay to follow her into the bathroom. There was a small window above the bathtub that they could fit through.

Go! Shay ordered. She intertwined her fingers to create a foothold for Ella. Lifting her up, Shay watched the bathroom door, anticipating the moment when the alien would burst through, killing them both.

The motel door splintered into tiny pieces, signaling the alien’s arrival.

Hurry! It’s coming! Shay screamed. She felt like she was in a horror movie, where the killer took his time, yet he somehow always caught up.

Ella flipped the latch, unlocking the window. Wiggling her body through the opening, she extended her arms, falling head-first onto the ground at the rear of the motel. But there was no time to waste—Shay needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Dusting off her hands and reaching up towards the window, Ella shouted, Shay, hurry!

Shay’s head poked out. She extended her arms, and Ella grabbed Shay’s hands and pulled. Almost halfway through, Shay was suddenly yanked back through the opening.

Ella! Shay screamed, and then she fell silent.

Shay! Ella thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

No, I won’t let it take her.

She kicked off in a sprint along the back of the motel, running as fast as her legs would move. Window upon window flew by, and she glanced up at the sky, momentarily distracted by the amount of small, alien ships flying every which way. As she rounded the corner of the motel closest to the alien’s pod, she halted in her tracks, nearly tripping over her own two feet.

The alien had reached the base of the steps leading up into its miniature ship, carrying Shay in its gangly arms.

Hey! Ella shouted, finding her voice. Let her go! She doesn’t belong to you! She took long strides towards the alien, unsure of what she could possibly do to stop it. All she knew was that she wasn’t going to let it harm Shay—no matter the cost.

Stopping on the top step, the alien turned around and faced Ella. A portion of its cheeks flapped outward, like wings, and vibrated rapidly. Opening its mouth wide, the extraterrestrial roared at Ella.

Just like she’d witnessed the zombies do.

She took a few steps back, and something clicked inside her brain, like the last remaining piece of a very bizarre puzzle. The apocalypse, the zombies, the arrival of the aliens—it was starting to make sense. The aliens weren’t here by chance. They were here by choice. This was all planned.

They know about the zombies, Ella figured. They know, because they were the ones who created the virus.

The military didn’t know what the virus was, according to Luke’s dad. And if the FBI agent was to be believed, they all had this airborne virus inside their bodies, waiting to be activated. This was a highly-advanced virus, not something that had been created on Earth.

So, if the aliens wanted everyone dead, why didn’t this one just kill her and Shay? What were they here for? What did Earth have that the aliens’ home planet, or other planets, didn’t?

Ella watched the stairs turn into liquefied metal and disappear into the side of the ship. She forced herself not to cry. Crying would be a waste of time—and right now, time was of the essence.

I’m going to find you Shay, she promised. I won’t stop until I do.

MATT

St. Louis, Missouri

Matt second-guessed his decision to leave Amara a dozen times. But Shay was out there, all alone, and, hopefully, still alive. He just couldn’t pretend she didn’t exist anymore. What kind of brother would he be if he gave up on her that easily?

A small group of zombies slogged through the middle of the road. At the sight of Matt, they reanimated, finding a new burst of energy to propel them towards his truck. He swerved and missed all of them, except one, who latched onto his truck’s tailgate and wouldn’t let go. The zombie pulled itself up, tumbling into the truck’s bed, then rising to its feet. Matt swerved again, hoping the damn thing would lose its balance and topple out. Instead, it fell over, the metal clunking as the infected’s body rolled around.

Shit, Matt mumbled. How the hell did that thing have the brainpower to know how to grab hold of his truck? Since when did zombies think for themselves? Be real, Matt, he chided himself. "This is zombies we’re talking about. Zombies. They’re not supposed to exist at all."

The zombie stood again, and Matt’s fingers curled around the wheel, yanking it to his right, and then to his left. This time, he knocked the infected guy out of his truck’s bed. Peering into his side mirror, Matt watched the zombie roll over and over again on the black pavement.

And then it didn’t move at all.

Sorry, dude, he said, but you had it coming.

Matt made it as far as the smoldering hospital two blocks up from Amara’s place before he slowed down; he didn’t want to risk running into another competent zombie—that was a bit too much for him to handle. Briefly, images of zombies opening doors and driving cars flashed across his vision. Matt shook his head, shoving those thoughts into the farthest corner of his mind. It was hard enough living in a world where the undead roamed the streets. He didn’t want to consider what it would be like to live in a world with intelligent zombies.

Far above the hospital, a giant thunderstorm brewed. Dark clouds rolled in—faster than normal, Matt noted—and lightning spread out like long, wiry fingers. The bright flashes gradually grew more blinding the longer Matt watched. But the strangest part? No thunder.

Zip.

Zilch.

Zero.

What kind of storm is this? he mentally inquired.

Then, he replied aloud, An unusual one, that’s what.

At the head of the storm, a razor-sharp point jutted out. The clouds slowly dissipated around the tip, revealing an even bigger problem.

Matt’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, and his jaw dropped. "You have got to be kidding me."

But this definitely wasn’t a joke.

There was a massive alien ship hovering above St. Louis.

Amara was right! She wasn’t crazy, after all.

Matt didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t even want to believe that zombies existed, so how could he come to terms with the fact that a giant, extraterrestrial ship was a thousand feet in the air?

The clouds disappeared entirely, and all that was left was the ship. With the phony storm gone, the sun illuminated the sky once more—and the underbelly of the hovering vessel. Matt couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like the underside opened, as if a door had been moved aside.

And then, one by one, miniature ships poured out.

What the— Matt started, then stopped himself. There was no use trying to figure out the why’s or what’s. He needed to focus on finding some place safe to hide.

Making a U-turn in the middle of the road, Matt floored the gas pedal, burned some rubber, and sped back to Amara’s. He hoped that small bungalow would be enough to keep them safe from the aliens, though he highly doubted it. But, at the moment, it was better than being outside, in his truck. And maybe hiding would buy them more time to figure out what their next course of action would be.

He definitely wouldn’t be driving to Knoxville to rescue his sister, that’s for sure.

Sorry, Shay, he muttered. I promise I won’t give up on you.

Cutting his wheel sharp, he screeched into Amara’s driveway, killed the engine, opened his door, and leapt out of his truck. Sprinting around the side of the house and through the side gate, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Amara standing outside her trailer, staring up at the sky.

I told you they were coming, she said without looking at him.

Yeah, you did, he responded in a rush. "And that’s great that you were correct. But we need to hide, like…now."

Amara blinked a few times, as if she was in some sort of trance and was just starting to see reality clearly. Of course. Hide. Right. She pivoted around and opened the trailer door, taking the steps.

How the hell can she be so casual about something like this?

Two of the mini ships zipped by overhead, and Matt bolted inside the trailer. Amara! We. Have. To. Go. He watched her snatch a few items of clothing and stuff them into a hobo bag.

She bypassed Matt and grabbed a set of keys hanging on a hook by the door. Okay, let’s go.

They jogged the short distance to the back door, where Amara sorted through the keys. Matt glanced up at the sky, at the dozens and dozens of alien pods flying in different directions, cluttering their atmosphere. At any given moment, those that flew over less than a couple of minutes ago might come back. And who knew what they’d do if they caught Matt and Amara. Kill them? Capture and torture them? That was the reason they were here, right? To exterminate the human race.

At least, that’s what made the most sense in Matt’s mind.

The lock clicked. Amara turned the knob and shoved the door open. Swiftly, Matt closed and locked it behind them, not that it’d matter; if the aliens really wanted to enter a house, they’d find a way to enter.

Matt and Amara stood in the small kitchen, surrounded by white cabinets stained with blood. Red finger streaks were smeared across the virginal color, making the kitchen look like something straight out of a horror movie. Pots and pans cluttered the sink, and about a dozen or so flies buzzed around the dirty dishes.

Grimacing, Matt pointed at the crimson stains. Um, what the hell is this?

Amara bit her lip, then responded, Altercation between Toby and Gareth…after Gareth had turned. He bit Toby, so I knocked him over the head and tied him to the chair outside.

Matt turned around, peering out through the window embedded inside the rear door at Gareth’s rotting corpse. He was so glad he didn’t have a girlfriend during this apocalypse; he’d hate having to put a bullet through anyone’s head, but watching someone he loved turn into a zombie would be even worse. It’d be a double death—first, when the girl turned, and second, when he’d have to kill her.

It’s not like you haven’t murdered before, he reminded himself.

Pushing the thought of setting the hospital on fire while his undead mom and half-brother were inside, Matt was about to ask Amara about her friend Toby, about what happened to him after he was bit by Gareth, when he stopped himself. A sour stench wafted to his nostrils the moment he stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting in the corner, in a brown, leather recliner, was a man who Matt figured was Toby.

Is that him? Matt asked, noticing the bullet hole in between his eyebrows.

Amara’s hands intertwined at her waist, then untwined. Yeah. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it before saying anything.

Matt knew she had to do it. He didn’t blame her, and he definitely wasn’t going to judge her. The girl had some serious guts. Not only did she kill her boyfriend’s best friend, but she had to kill her boyfriend, too. Even during an apocalypse, people’s emotions got in the way of what was right, what they were supposed to do. Amara didn’t let that happen, other than the brief amount of time she hesitated on shooting her boyfriend. But that was completely understandable.

Covering his nose with the back of his hand, Matt inquired, So, where’s the basement?

Amara wheeled around and pointed down the hall. This way. She led him to a door in the center of the house. Digging through her bag, she pulled out a flashlight, then opened the door.

As soon as they were both inside, Matt shut the door behind them. He still didn’t think that closing a door would make much difference, but it was worth a try.

Illuminating the steps, Amara took them one by one, while using the side rail for support. Matt was on her heels until they reached the bottom. Waving the flashlight around, she used it to show Matt the space, and show him where they’d be sleeping—behind a see-through shelf lined with canned food.

Matt’s gaze focused on the cans’ rims, which were ever-so-slightly moving back and forth. Then, other things inside the basement began to rattle, clinging and clanging, until the floor beneath his feet trembled.

An earthquake? Seriously? How much worse can this apocalypse get?

BOOM! Creeeaaak.

The sound reverberated from far away, but gradually grew louder and louder.

BOOM! Creeeaaak.

Matt shared a wild-eyed glance with Amara. He didn’t need to ask the question that was on both their minds: What the hell was that?

Tiny, rectangular windows were spaced out along the walls, covered in a thick layer of dust and allowing a minimal amount of light inside the dingy, dark basement. A long table sat underneath the windows in front of them. Matt didn’t hesitate to climb on top of it, in the hopes that he could peer out at the street and see what the hell was causing that noise.

A giant, metallic boot stomped the weathered asphalt just down the street; it was at least three car lengths, maybe closer to five or six. Matt’s gaze followed from the boot to the leg, and then all the way up the body. He couldn’t see the head from his position, but if he had to guess, he figured the oversized robot, alien—whatever that thing was—was as tall as a skyscraper.

BOOM! Creeeaaak. BOOM! Creeeaaak.

Each time the alien robot lifted one of its metallic boots, it creaked.