The first sign was the internet going down, the music streaming into the floor-standing speakers going quiet without warning. A sudden loss of connection; Wi-Fi box rebooted twice and still nothing. The dimming of the lights came next. Not total power failure; the solar panels on the roofs to thank.
Still we drank, draining the supply to a bottle of port bought from the local supermarket on a hangover-fuelled run.
It was New Year’s Eve 2017. We’d rented a holiday cottage on the extremes of Cornwall, almost Land’s End. The cottage, one of nine in a gated development, each built the new way but made to look old. The doors were a funny proportion; building regulations, I’m told.
Each cottage was built out of the way of the rest in a wide circle, a thick copse of trees separating them. In the centre stood a manager’s house, a small shop and a bar.
Where a tenth cottage could have sat was the wide road leading out and in. There were ten of us, the cottage full to bursting. Twin and double rooms were shared despite all but four of us not being coupled. We’d been there four days already, the recycling bin emptied with the ring of bottles each morning. A maid cleaned out the jacuzzi we’d piled in all night until the Atlantic air got too much and we headed back to dry around the wood-burning stove.
We lasted an hour before myself and Andrew dressed, mounting an expedition and walking the couple of hundred steps to the centre of the circle. We weren’t the only ones there. A huddle had formed at the open door of the manager’s house, a half-drunk crowd shouting over each other.
I remember the concern on Andrew’s face. Our worst fear; the little shop had run out of its overpriced alcohol and the mob were about to lynch the grey-haired manager unless he’d drive a rescue party to the nearest twenty-four-hour supermarket. We still thought it was true as the door closed in our faces. People turned to each other. Some were strangers. Some were not. All were dumbfounded at his actions, but before the small crowd could become a mob, the door opened and out came the guy with an ancient radio in his hand, garbled words and static rattling from the paint-flecked speakers.
The crowd hushed as more joined at our backs. We were now in the middle of a group, hushing too, listening to a voice settle. A handful of words come clean from the speaker. A power station had been attacked by terrorists; the nuclear reactor in Somerset.
Panic rippled through the group, radiating adrenaline working to nullify the alcohol. Two of the group pushed outwards and I turned to see them running back to one of the nine houses. We continued to listen, my heart pounding in the near silence.
Author: GJ Stevens
Book title: In the End
Publish date: September 18th 2018
When humanity faces an undead nightmare, one man’s party turns into a race to survive.
Logan has always taken things a little too seriously. So when his New Year’s Eve attempt to unwind descends into chaos, he’s the first to realize it’s no joke. After Logan and his friends miss the evacuation transport, he’s given a choice: lead the group to safety or watch all of his friends come back from the dead…
When Logan discovers the military and government have no interest in saving them, making it to sanctuary alive may be their only hope. And after he learns his party of survivors might hold the key to a cure, the fate of humanity rests on his shoulders. But saving his species could mean sacrificing himself…
Can Logan stave off the end of the world or will one wrong decision doom humankind?
In The End is a fast-paced post-apocalyptic zombie thriller. If you like nightmarish settings, reluctant heroes, and action-packed adventures, then you’ll love GJ Stevens’ spine-chilling novel.
Buy In The End to fight for survival today!