Also Available From Jacy Morris
Fiction:
The Abbey
The Cult of the Skull (The Enemies of our Ancestors: Book 2)
The Drop
The Enemies of Our Ancestors
Killing the Cult
The Lady That Stayed
The Pied Piper of Hamelin
This Rotten World
This Rotten World: Let It Burn
This Rotten World: No More Heroes
This Rotten World: Winter of Blood
An Unorthodox Cure
Movies:
All Hell Breaks Loose
The Cemetery People (Coming Soon)
This Rotten World: Winter of Blood
By Jacy Morris
Copyright © Jacy Morris 2020
All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
This Rotten World:Winter of Blood
Prologue: A Light Still Burns
Chapter 1: The Snow Turns Red
Chapter 2: Lowering the Drawbridge
Chapter 3: Old Wound Burning
Chapter 4: Supermarket Sweep
Chapter 5: Apocalypse Anonymous
Chapter 6: I'm Too Old for This Shit
Chapter 7: Over the River and Through the Woods
Chapter 8: Doors and Dibs
Chapter 9: Raw Nerves and Meat
Chapter 10: A Day to Remember
Chapter 11: Ordered Not to Die
Chapter 12: Keep Your Brains Off the Photos
Chapter 13: Matching Haircuts
Chapter 14: The Miracle of Life
Chapter 15: Audrey Hopburn Belgian IPA
Chapter 16: The Gypsy Drifter
Chapter 17: Whole Lotta Shaking Going On
Chapter 18: Horse Stew and Sex
Chapter 19: Into the Snake Pit
Chapter 20: Open House
Chapter 21: Blood on the Ice
Epilogue: The Roar of a Million Lions
Prologue: A Light Still Burns
The power for the lighthouse had disappeared long ago, fading away as the world itself had done. But Rhodri Williams had figured out a plan. He had scrounged everything he needed from the city of Seaside, a once bustling tourist trap with nice, sandy beaches. The beaches led to a jut of rock, on which sat his lighthouse. He called it "his" because he had about as good a claim to it as anyone. He had poured thirty-five years of his life into the place, longer than anyone else. His friends in town used to ask him when he was going to retire, and he had never had an answer. But he knew the answer now. The answer was never. Not while there were still ships sailing on the sea.
Rhodri saw them out there sometimes, ships, bobbing along in the ocean. He didn't know where any of them were heading. Maybe they were dead, adrift, floating along with no one at the helm. But he knew that some of the ships had living people on them. He had seen signals from the ships, even been able to hail some of them on the radio. Those were the best times.
To be honest, it was those moments that he still lived for. They meant that his life still had a purpose, a reason. He had never considered himself much of a people person, not until they all went away.
He headed downstairs, circling around the spiral, iron staircase so fast that he felt dizzy when he reached the bottom. His was not the tallest lighthouse on the Oregon Coast, but it was fifty-feet straight up to the lamp at the top, with its shattered mirrors and stunning view of Seaside and its surrounding area. From its height, he could see the city to the north, sprawling and dead.
The city crawled with the dead now. Rhodri had seen them up close when he had needed to find a new power source for the lighthouse once the electricity had gone. The lighthouse had backup batteries, but these were short term and not meant to be the sole source of power for the lighthouse. After a couple of nights being lit up, the lighthouse would have gone dark, and the ships, the meandering ships full of souls too afraid to come to land, would have been dashed against the rocks south of Seaside. He couldn't have that on his conscience, not if he could do something about it.
So he had journeyed into the city. Seaside was not a big town. It had a population of about 7,000 people. He had always considered it more of a cozy village than a city. In the summer, Seaside swelled with tourists crowding the beaches, playing in the arcade, eating snow cones and elephant ears. But he guessed that time was over. When the apocalypse had hit, and that's what it was, he knew that now, the town had been at the height of tourist season.
He had listened to the breakdown of society as it was broadcast over the radio, listening to everything he knew fade away, one by one. It had started with the hospital. Rhodri heard the call go out over the police band, some sort of trouble with a patient. He had climbed his tower briefly during the day, watching as the police cars drove through town, like small toys to his eyes. He marked their progress, and when they reached the hospital, he climbed back down and listened some more.
"Shots fired, officer down." These were the words that stood out to him, amongst all the codes and questions; these were the words that told him that something was wrong.
His living area at the base of the lighthouse was not extravagant. It didn't need to be. He was only one man who never had any visitors. The majority of his days were spent sleeping and cleaning and turning off the alarm he set for himself lest he forget to eat. If he didn't set the alarm, he could lose himself upstairs, staring at the ocean and watching the ships pass by. He was not the stereotypical picture of a lonely lighthouse keeper. Oh sure, he enjoyed his solitude, but many were the days when he was able to stroll out the front of the lighthouse and bike down to the city to eat at Ruby's Roadside Grill. A bed, a sitting area, a small kitchen, a
