Escape to Vampire Dam

By S.N. McKibben

Zompocalypse is here...
​...but the saviors of humanity are the very monsters that drink human blood.

Noir Tekeste is one of a hand full of survivors that hasn't been zombiefied living at Vampire Dam, a vampire protected human refugee camp. 

Life is simple. Avoid zombies, make babies and donate blood. 

When Noir finds a note-in-a-bottle from her lost son she's determined to leave the safety of Vampire Dam to find him.

Armed with her wits, a flashlight and a vampire escort named Jason, Noir finds more than zombies await her on her quest.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troll River Publications
• Release date: Apr 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781939564146

S.N. McKibben

Will Write for Puppy Chow! Slave to a ninety-pound German Shepard and a computer she calls "Dave", Stephanie strolls along the twenty-seven-acre property in Central Texas her three dogs own when she isn’t writing. Stephanie reads for the love of words and writes fiction about Dark Hearts and Heroes revolving around social taboos.  Whenever asked, she'll reply her whole life can be seen through a comic—sometimes twisted, sometimes funny, but always beautiful and its title is adventure. Come play!

Book preview

WARNING: The author and publisher would solemnly advise you not to attempt any of the sexual or non-sexual actions of any of the characters in this book. Any damage physical, mental or emotional is the sole responsibility of the person/persons attempting such actions. Please be aware that this is a work of fiction and you are responsible for yourself and the consequences caused thereof.

Dear Reader,

Stephanie has worked very hard on this particular piece of entertainment. This book was brought to you by hard labor and love. Please respect an artist’s work for the enrichment we try to bring you. I humbly ask that you don’t outright steal this child born on paper and brought to you by love. If you come by this book by nefarious means, and you are simply unable to give the change in your pocket for the purchase price, then take it with my blessing. But if you can purchase it and would like Stephanie to continue to bring you great books, please purchase a copy to support her.

Thank you,

Troll River Publications

1

As a thirty-six year old woman in the post-apacalyptic world, the vampires valued me. Yeah, finally, Noir Tekeste, meant something to someone other than my ten year-old son – wherever he was. My heart gave a pang. I hoped he was still alive.

Ever since Zompocalypse, humans were a scarce commodity in the vampire world. That’s when the blood suckers stepped up to the plate and started protecting people from anything and everything. The emergence of zombies shortened the supply of prey.

Dead blood held no nutrition value for vampires. Once humans were gone, vampires would starve for eternity. Living with out-of-your-mind hunger wasn't an acceptable fate to vampires. So blood-suckers started protecting humans from zombies. I never thought I’d say this but, thank god for vampires.   

Incoming. My vampire guard, Jason, pointed down into the water.

Zombies didn’t pay attention to bottles riding river currents, which was how rivers became postal by-ways. A mason jar, its sparkling head bobbing in froth and rapids, was the night’s last mail delivery. As soon as the net spanning the small tributary caught that goodie, I’d reel everything in and see what the river placed on our door.

Jason wasn't much of a talker. He subscribed to the mindset of keeping food at a distance. Me being human—food meant me. I huffed at him, even though he was my protector and companion for tonight.

Yeah, I can see that, I have eyes. I batted my eyelashes at him.

His lack of interest in what men had told me was an adorable face and curvy figure irked me. Most vampires, or even my fellow male human compatriots, would smile and ask if I needed a hand bringing in the heavy nets. Not Jason.

I grabbed the mail pole that would release the net and started fishing the mail out of the water. I still got a thrill from getting water post. No matter what the news, letters were information. A personal letter from someone, or anyone proving we weren't alone, was cause for celebration.

Calm yourself. Jason growled. Heartbeat.

I scowled at Ass-wad. Jason constantly reminded me blood coursed through my veins. Bite me.

Tempting offer. Jason towered over me, eyeing my throat. Built like a biker lumberjack in a leather jacket, with a goatee he was intimidating enough to make me remember my vitality was my only defense against him. I also knew he had a Glock handgun in the inner pocket of his iconic Fonzie-wear. I was safe because I was a commodity. No one wanted to kill a golden goose.

You'd think my comment was an invitation. It wasn't. Vampires biting humans was against the head vampire, Calif's rules. Calif ruled all the vampires in a fifty-mile radius. For whatever reason, Calif’s first rule was no biting.

Calif required all humans wanting his protection to donate via the Red Cross method with their blood stored in little doggie bags.

No donation and we were free to leave the comfort and safety of Vampire Dam into the maw of flesh-eating zombies, ravenous shape-shifters or who knows what other perversions the apocalypse had created. No, thanks. What vein would you like, sir?

Considering the chance of being eaten by zombies was enough to keep thirty-seven of us under his protection. I’d rather be a little lethargic from blood loss than zombiefied.

But Jason was still a human-eating immortal.

And I was alone with him right now.

Jason gritted his teeth. Heart. Beat.

Fear and my stomach weren't friends, but I swallowed that ball of dried anxiety. Can I get the mail now?

He stepped back and my heart began to calm.

Thank you. I shifted my pack-back and lowered my mail catcher.

The jar did a fine job of keeping the message dry. Paper is a rare jewel in this day and age but peeled birch bark worked when you scratched a message with a blade. I could almost read the message through the glass. My eyes halted at the name—Yiran Tekeste. My son. He would be ten now.

Blood rushed through my ears.

In the background I heard a growl as my vision narrowed to pinpoint precision of the handwriting.

Jason yanked me out of my fog. We were running.

The jar slid out my hand. The sound of glass shattering on rock brought maternal instincts back to life. That small jar carried the last whereabouts of my Yiran. Nothing would separate me from my son if he was alive.

Jason’ superior vampire strength couldn’t match the super powers of a determined mother. I wrenched out of his grasp and darted for that sliver of bark before I saw why Jason hurtled me away from the river.

The horrid smell of death preceded the appearance of a sickly, droopy skinned zombie. Stringy hair clumped in patches over her scalp. Her jaundiced eyes surveyed me, then darted toward me.

I grabbed the mail catcher and prepared to battle over what might be the last reminiscence of my son, I heaved the end of the mail pole with all the strength a mother possessed protecting her child.

A streak flew past me. Wind from its passing whipped hair into my eyes.

The brain-eater tumbled in a writhing ball with another figure—Jason.

The wooden pole I had hurled, snapped in two as the two monsters battled.

I thought zombies were ugly. The vampire wrapped around the zombie was all sharp teeth and feral eyes. Those teeth could make a saber-toothed cat jealous.

The zombie snarled.

Jason bit its head off.

The soccer-sized melon rolled my way and the mouth snarled silently. Its wind pipe was done. My insides shivered.