Apocalipstick (Hell in a Handbag Book 1) by Lisa Acerbo (best motivational books for students .TXT) 📕

Jenna shook her head clear.

Lucky to live until tomorrow or next week. Don’t need to obsess over a future.

Focusing on the morning watch, scanning the ground below, her mind wandered as minutes ticked away and tedium set in.

Sick of always being on the move, the group wanted a permanent base. They were heading south to the High Point Inn in rural Virginia after almost a year of wandering, everyone desiring some permanency. With supplies dwindling, and the little band of survivors growing, the group had hoped to move away from over-populated cities and suburbs where the Streakers ran rampant. Even this small town in Pennsylvania, it would seem, had its share of undead.

The day the Streakers attacked, Jenna realized, was the beginning of worse things, and by things, she meant hordes of zombies to come.

Emma had been the person who recommended the move to the inn. She’d stayed there on vacation a couple times and said it had everything the group needed to survive. Plus, it was well away from any major city.

With nothing interesting or undead in sight, Jenna pondered what Emma had told everyone. There was a reservoir for fresh water and accommodation for everyone. Jenna was hopeful they’d make it there soon, without any losses, and be able to plan and prepare for the winter.

The last year on the road had drained life and vitality for all. And the year before had almost killed Jenna.

Her stomach clenched. She traced the scar there. Her hand slid to her hip bone, now prominent against the waistline of her jeans.

Footsteps brought her back to reality.

“Supply run today. You available?” Gus put two fingers to his temple. “George decided he wanted to stay behind.”

“Should I ask why?”

“No. You want in?”

“To traipse into a deserted town and face the maggoty dead to find a left-behind can of soup? What could be more fun? Sign me up.”

4

After her two-hour shift on watch, Jenna, snuggled in her camo jacket on her cot and retrieved the journal she wrote in hopes of capturing the details of the pandemic unfolding. The journal helped pass the long hours. Rereading it made her sad, but she couldn’t help skimming the pages, scanning random entries. How immature she sounded, though she’d been eighteen and a senior in high school. A lifetime had passed since she wrote them.

She thumbed through the frayed paper and stopped at an entry.

March 27, 2020

The year started like any other. Everyone came back from winter break and school went on like normal. It was weird when we started hearing about this virus spreading throughout the world. I arrived at my 7th period chemistry class and sat in the same seat I had been in all year. Word of the illness spread throughout the hallways. No one was too worried when they spoke of sick aunts or cousins. I remember sitting in class one day and hearing people remark that schools around us were closing. “This can't be that serious,” had been my initial reaction. March 13. Happy day of destruction. I'm sitting in class and an announcement from the principal plays on the intercom. “Please gather everything from your locker and all personal possessions. School will be closed until further notice.” We all celebrated. My friends and I were out of class and that's all we cared about. A few weeks to relax and party down by the lake. Little did we know things would never be the same. I never returned to school.

May 19, 2020

Mom and Dad have it, whatever it is. They’re both in bed with a fever, and I don’t know what to do. We canceled my graduation party. I’m not going to see friends. No presents. This could only happen to me. Since the quarantine, life’s been so lonely and sad.

It’s not just my parents who are sick. I’m one of the few people on the block free of the virus. Haven’t caught it yet. The old man at the end of the street is okay, too. I see him wandering around in his garden. He kind of looks weird though, but he’s always been mean and salty. I would love to speak with him and find out more about what’s going on, but I’m scared.

Mom and Dad want me to stay in the house, but they won’t let me visit with them, and every time I go into my parent’s room, they make me leave. They’re even wearing those stupid masks in bed. It’s not like they’ll contaminate each other.

I want to see my friends. I’d enjoy anyone’s company. I’m so alone. Maybe I’ll sneak out and attend one of those virus parties they’re throwing. My parents would never believe I’d do it.

The news says it’s just a stupid flu bug, but Mom and Dad are sick, sweating and coughing. Their skin has this awful purple tint to it. They don’t eat the food I bring them. I make sure they at least have some water. I want to call 911, but they keep telling me “no.”

All the television programs say the same thing, which isn’t much. Why can’t I leave the house?

Texting and Facetime don’t cut it. Online schooling sucks. I hate seeing my parents sick, and I want to visit my friends, at least the few of them who don’t have this stupid disease. Maybe I’ll text Kate or go run.

I must get ready to play soccer. I’m so excited to start Massachusetts College in the fall and can’t wait to see Aunt Jill. She’s coming to help out tomorrow. I haven’t seen her since Christmas.

Jenna flipped a few pages and jumped ahead to a time that still haunts her waking dreams.

July 21, 2020

I never got to say goodbye to Mom and Dad. I miss them so much, but I can’t cry. With so many dead, they don’t conduct funerals, but bury people in mass graves. Aunt Jill made us join the others in a safe house, more like a prison.

We were