The Complete book of Hope's Unfinished Works

This book has every one of Hope's unfinished stories. She thought it would be nice to have all of her stories documented into one big book. So here it is. Including: Life in a New Standpoint Tale as Old as Time Thrown for a Twist What to Do with the Wotters The Tale Untold Trouble in Paradise The Divine


2. Chapter 2: The Climb

The heat radiating from the sun gives me nothing but the urge to drink water, but I can’t. A half of a bottle that is all I have left to live on, no food either.  I haven’t seen any sign of water, and being alone makes it almost impossible to go into any buildings, all it takes is one of the turned to kill you. Just one of them to change your life that you’ve worked so hard to keep.

            I think the worst thing to think about dying now is the fact that I’ve come this far, and the same thing my family and I have been working so hard to get away from is the same thing that kills us. Every day when I when I wake up I hope to wake up back in the comfort of my own home but no, every morning I am in that god forsaken tent. I always have to remind myself that hope is dead.

            As I walk through the tall grass, my legs become increasingly itchy and I have to give myself a pep talk every minute not to bend down and scratch the hell out of my legs. Chiggers were probably working into my skin. One thing about the South is bugs were always there.

            I always find myself thinking about is animals don’t turn, they just die. Humans used to just die also, but now that seems like a thing of the past.  Death still hurts everyone’s heart just as it did then, it is just different. We all have jobs to do; we don’t get to cry anymore we don’t get to be upset. There is no trying to avoid death now it’s around every corner waiting to snatch you up. There is no more complex surgery’s to save lives, you just have the common knowledge of your bright or not so bright mind. It was amazing what people could do before the chaos.

            No one could have ever really prepared for what happened. The “Survivalists” maybe had a chance, until someone took it from them. Someone always takes what you’ve worked so hard for. When people were committing too many crimes they tried too enforce Marshall Law, but it wasn’t too long before things just got too bad to control.

            5 months after Susie died my family and I were walking through this town, we hadn’t even seen one of the turned yet. In all honesty we let our guard down, it should be a rule in the apocalypse too never let your guard down, I haven’t had rules to go by in so long.  I use to hate rules, always wanting to break them; I know now more than ever that I want rules.

Anyways my family and I were all together laughing and smiling about who knows what, the point being we were actually kind of happy. The feeling of happiness was already so foreign then; people should have appreciated happiness more when they had it. You never know what you have until it’s gone.

We were all trying to find some gas for our car; sometimes you hit the jack pot and other times you just fail at finding even an ounce.

As we walked down the street ten feet in front of us was a corner and rounding that corner was about 50 of the turned. All forming together to make one mega monster.

My Dad screamed to us, “Knives, and guns, lets fight.” 

Looking back to that day I wish we would have never even tried to fight, we should have just run.  I’ve learned that unnecessary fighting never works out.

We all fought our hardest, but your hardest is never good enough in this world. The more gun shots we fired the more of the turned that came. It was like a never ending fight the whole apocalypse was and still is.

Then it happened, the second death in my family. We were covered in the turned, so my Dad yelled “Go, run!!”  I knew exactly what he was going to do. He always said he would do it if he had to, but I wished the day would never come.

“Dad No.” I screamed in sadness, as he threw himself into the herd. I turned around to see one of the turned getting ready to pounce. I kicked her as hard as I could, she fell to the ground. I didn’t waste any time, I shoved my knife into her head again and again angered with rage I stood adrenaline pumping through my veins only to hear my Dad’s muffled screams. Through his pain he yelled as loud as he could to me. “Go Annabel!” So go I went, running up the street with tears rushing down my face.

True love is something that is amazing, something that nothing in the world compares to. Love is unconditional. Exactly how my Dad loved us.

Right now as I make my way through the brush to the strange light it occurs to me that I really have no idea what I am getting myself into. For all I know I could be walking straight to my death. Another sign of insanity pushes its way into my head when I hear my Dad’s reassuring voice, “Its okay Annabel. Do it for me.” His voice was the complete opposite of my Moms voice.  I shake my head; I’ve been hearing things too often now.

I have no other options then to head for the light, IT IS my only option.  I have no food, little water, no sleep, and as a plus I think I am going crazy. This is my best bet.

Of course though, nothing now ever comes easy. Right there in front of me was three of the turned. If it was me and my brother it was no problem, but it’s just me. Two males, one female; I could take the women, but the two men were really tall. To be honest, I was pretty short maybe 5’2 or 5’3.

My fingers instantly go for my gun, but the little apocalypse voice in my head tells me it’s a bad idea. If I only had a silencer, I figure there are more of the turned nearby.  This time my hand reaches for my Bowie Knife. The two male turned are facing the other way so female first. I step forward and instantly she notices me. She starts pathetically limping for me, she is a slow one.

I take one big jump and lunge myself on her, pinning her to the ground and slamming the knife into her skull blood covering my entire chest.

One down two to go. By now they have both noticed me; I go for the closer one first. I kick him, he doesn’t fall, and I then use full body force to shove him into a tree. I hear the other turned a few steps away, so I take the knife and shove it through his chin into the depths of his brain. 

I tug on the knife vigorously; it does not want to budge. In the last few seconds I manage to pull it out, but not quick enough the turned pushes me down causing me to loose grip on my knife. It goes flying to the right; the turned topples on top of me. He bites the air trying to get a bite of my face. I hold him off with one arm with all my might while I reach for the knife. I start to weaken and he slowly starts coming closer to my face. My fingers reach and stretch for the knife, right before he bites my neck I grab a stick and shove it right through his eye socket.

I push him off of me and with the last of my power crawl over to a tree. I am covered in blood and smell of the dead. I close my eyes and breathe heavily. I hope I never have to do that again.

When I open my eyes there is an African American woman with dreadlocks standing in front of me. She stares at me and I stare back, I am not sure if she is real or my imagination. She doesn’t say anything she just stares. I can’t even read her face. Then, reassuring the fact that she is real, two men step behind her from inside the woods. One of the men a tall man with a light beard and a crossbow and the other an African American man with a bloody hammer in his hand. Now, all three of these people stare at me.

I am at lack of words. I have no idea what to say, I am probably quite a sight to look at.

I stand up slowly and brush myself off and then cautiously start to walk towards them to introduce myself. They all raise their weapons before I get within 5 feet. The man with the crossbow speaks up “Hands up, put your weapons down.” Crap these types of people.

I sarcastically reply back, “If my hands are up then how can I put my weapons down?” I get death glares from each one of them. “Fine, okay.” I say lowering my weapons and raising my hands. They watch my every move.

The crossbow man comes and grabs my things looking me straight in the eyes. I start to speak again, “Please... It’s all I have.” The woman gives a look to where I almost see compassion, but then it is right back to a cold glare.

Tears start to come down my face again, I start to feel light headed and my heart beats rapidly. I lower myself to the ground trying to take deep breaths. Strangely all three of these people come to my side. My mind starts to go black and the last thing I remember is someone saying that “Things are going to be okay.” Before I black out.

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