Blood and Ash

James Kiely has one messed up excuse of a love life. He wakes up one morning next to the reason for it, and suddenly realises life has taken a turn for the better. Unfortunately, he picked the worst morning ever to wake up after sleeping with his best friend.
He picked the apocalypse. This is my entry for the gaming fan fiction contest on the grounds that it is based on The Walking Dead PC game, which I love. Although I have decided to set it in another country, somewhere far away, so I have some of my own credibility. I wanted to write myself a lovely little story, a romcom, but also decided to mix it up somewhat. Unfortunately it isn't easy to do that, so I hope it works out. If it does, I'll ask Movellas to introduce Zombie Apocalypse Romcoms to the categories list.


1. Hung Over

James Kiely felt ill.

Hung over, to be precise.

He rolled over onto the near side of his bed, and immediately felt queasy doing so. Bright pinks and blscks dotted the floor in swirls of colour. The light streaming in through his undrawn curtains gave him a headache, and as his blurry eyes focused on the world around him, he let out a long belch.

That was about when Amy came into view.

James jumped, and then smiled at the thought of her. Particularly, her naked, laying naked next to him in his bed. His vision restored, he reassessed his surroundings. Her clothes were strewn around the floor, hanging off his desk chair and the TV as well. A stunning scarlet dress lay on the floor, next to a pair of similarly coloured heels. James smiled. He couldn't remember it, but last night was definitely fun.

Amy stirred; James froze where he lay. He attempted to move just his eyes. In his peripheral vision he could just make out her silky, chocolate hair, which radiated from her flawless complexion and now caressed the pillow she rested on. He wasn't sure how he was going to break it to her. Perhaps he could just carry her home? She only lived a few streets away.

His question was answered with the fluttering of her eyelids, and then the sight of her piercing brown eyes.

"James?" she asked, her voice slightly slurred, but still as dulcet as ever.

"Hey, Amy," he replied.

"This is your house?"


"And this is your bed?"


"So why am I in it?"

"I'm not sure." He smiled again, inwardly this time. She frowned.

"Did we...?"

"Yep," he cut in. She frowned again.


This wasn't quite the response he'd been hoping for. He was shooting more for a smile. Instead, she was now frowning more than ever, propped against the oak headboard. She had the cutest little frown lines...

"James, this wasn't supposed to happen."

"Well, it did..."

"This is bad."

"Well, maybe we had everything figured out last night. You know, about us."

"There is no us, James."

He took a moment to think. Well, clearly there was an us, now they were sleeping together.

"Maybe last night was a cause to realise that there should be an us."

Amy started, but then closed her mouth. She regarded him for a moment, and then opened her mouth again to speak.

"Maybe there should be."

She leaned in towards him, closing her eyes and climbing over his torso. He closed his eyes too, and tilted his head slightly. They came closer, and closer, and he could feel her breath on his skin, and they were kissing, and kissing and kissing and he didn't care about anything and they were kissing and BANG!

An explosion rocked the house, shaking it to the foundations. James had already thrown himself to the floor on top of Amy, shielding her from the shrapnel. But no shrapnel came. He looked around the house, but he could already see the fireball, even through drawn blinds. All feelings of lethargy caused by the night before immeditalely vanished in as surge of adrenaline. He threw open his blinds, and was greeted with a scene of chaos.

Just across from his house, the town centre was ablaze. People were beside fire engines, trying to douse the flames with water, but it wasn't working. Others were rioting, throwing stones at windows and running out of shops with as much as they could carry. There were people killing other people, and people smashing themselves against walls. But they were just shapes dancing across a façade, pictures without sound,  until James actually registered what was happening. There was a riot. A riot? How can there be a riot? Karem never had riots? Everyone was happy?

A stone flew through the air, striking the roof of his house with a defining thump. A second later, the soft tinkling of broken roof tiles sounded above him. He turned, and saw Amy on the floor, looking extremely concerned. But naked.

Whatever was happening outside was dangerous, and James intended to place himself as far away from it as humanly possible. He whipped round, vaulting his bed and beckoning Amy.

"We need to get out. If you trust me, you'll just do as I say." She followed as he ran into his spare room, just opposite.

Inside, propped up in one corner, was a black BoA6 Bolt Action carbine and two rucksacks. Without thinking, James quickly slung the larger of the two over his shoulder, and handed the smaller one to Amy. She gave him a disgusted look, her arms still folded. Dammit, she was naked.

"Top compartment- first set of clothes," he told her, resting his own rucksack against the bed and pulling out a base layer top, a fleece, a pair of cargo trousers and boots from his. It was awkward- the boots hadn't been properly broken in- but it fit well. As James buckled his belt, he turned to see Amy ready, now fully dressed in her own set of his clothes. She let off another round of that all-too-recognisable frown.

"This fits perfectly."

James didn't look answer, instead taking a semiautomatic, silenced pistol and holster from under the bed. He strapped it onto his right leg, shortly followed by an assortment of knives in a similar holster on his left. Amy shot him an awkward look as he took her hand, and ran down the stairs, putting a second semiautomatic into her palms. The door had slammed shut, and they were both outside the house, when Amy finally stopped. She looked him in the eye with a strange glare.

"What is all this? Why the hell have you just gone from being sleepy and tired to Mr let's go somewhere with guns all of a sudden? I mean, I knew you were a little bit of a conspiracy guy, but not like this... That was too far."

This wasn't good, time wasted.

"You know I like to prepare for the worst?"

"Yes, but not like keep three guns in your spare bedroom prepared?"

"Surprise, I'm prepared. We can settle this after we leave."

"Leave? Where? When are we coming back?"

But he was already off.

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