The Apocalypse Chapters

By Robert Weaver

A collection of mostly flash fiction pertaining to a zombie apocalypse from the perspective of the unwilling survivors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ex Luce Veritas
• Release date: Dec 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215734766

Robert Weaver

From the literary tradition of Romanticism and Gothic fiction to contemporary media sources such as video games and rock and heavy metal music, Robert Weaver builds worlds in words with a promise that no matter the genre, there will always be mystery to unravel or inequity to overcome.

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The Cold White Light

The sun gives us light and asks for nothing in return. Our fires crackle with an orange glow that makes us think of primitive men in a time when life was simple and nature gave us all we needed and we didn’t care if we never figured out all the secrets of the universe. Light guides us in dark places and warms us when even our spirit is cold. But I think giving simple characteristics to the past and to fire is facile, and that in reality often things that appear simple are complex and things that appear complex are simple. What are you supposed to say to your 14 year old kid when their mum’s not coming back? That the creatures you thought lived only in literature and comic books are just as real as the enigmatic serial killers that circumambulate amongst us like a hidden cancer? The simple fact is that there’s nothing to be said. There are no words strong enough, forceful enough, to explain a child something like that. But they can handle it. They’re strong. Because they’re kids. Because he’s stronger than me.

I kicked a split log onto the campfire, and a shower of embers puffed into the dark. I sat down on the grass and looked over at my boy who in turn stared blankly at the flames that looked like sheets of orange paper bending in the wind. We could have easily spent our time counting our days, but what’s the point?

What we called our lives was behind us, and our future might as well be as far away. I don’t mourn for the loss of the civilisation in which I lived, for I believe that all civilisations are destined to fall. But what about our future? How can we build anything when these creatures, shadows of ourselves, are coming back from the dead? It’s incomprehensible. Maybe a philosopher could explain it better than me. I’m just a father who’s gotta look upon the face of his son every day and