Middle Aged (35-54)
North American (General) , North American (South West - Texas) , North American (US General American - GenAM) , North American (US West Coast - California, Portland)
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
from Sterling and Stone Story Studio and Podium Publishing. This is the indie fiction podcast Dead City, written by Johnny B. Truitt and Sean Platt, performed by Scott Brick Way deliver a complete, professionally narrated audio book to you, chapter by chapter. Every weekday season, one of the podcast brings You Dead City, a new breed of zombie thriller. Each chapter of this riveting genetic thriller will leave you dying for the next one. So be sure to follow along now because once the story is over, this season will be gone forever. And now, Dead City Chapter one **** on Earth. The helicopter ride was bumping enough to make Alice spill her coffee, but not her lunch. The way the pilot was acting, this particular ride was no big deal. And if she threw up now, Alice could forget about keeping anyone's respect. She was already a woman heading into what had, of course, become a male dominated sector of the government, society and even the specific geographic area. If she tossed her cookies on the jumper floor, no one would take her seriously. Not the pilot, not the onsite leadership at Yosemite, not Bobby Baltimore, who had met her before, even the undead might laugh in point, such as they were still able. This your first time to **** on earth? The pilot asked, projecting his voice above the thumping Roeder. The helicopter's signed door was open, maybe for Breeze, and the idea of plummeting toward death made on this uneasy. She couldn't help glancing at the copters gaping mouth before turning back to the pilot. Officially, I'm supposed to pretend you didn't say that. Then, when the pilot seemed unwilling to fix his politically incorrect faux pas, she answered his question. I've talked to Bobby in Aberdeen Valley, but this is my first time to Yosemite. Then you're in for a treat. How many Farrells they run across out there in Dead City. It happens in this sticks, not in the city. But I've never seen one in person. The idea being here, freak you out. I've visited some scary places before the borders were closed. It takes a lot to freak me out. You've been a brown. The pilot seemed impressed. Alice, for her part, was amazed that he could fly without looking forward all that often, even though his inattention made her nervous. Yosemite's wide expanse young ahead, all granite and trees. She'd asked for a fly over of the park section before entering the contain zone, but now felt too ill for proper appreciation. The duty sergeants response had been acceptable but not conciliatory. A request had been granted, but Alice had the distinct impression It was only because what the military said went around here and she had happened to request the same approach route. Air traffic always entered the restricted northern section reporters, preferences notwithstanding. When I was younger, she said, the pilot turned fully in his seat. One arm slung conversation Lee over the back. He was chewing gum and wearing a flight helmet. He looked maybe 20 years old, nearly young enough to be her kid if Alice ever had any. You don't say Tell the truth, Miss Frank. What was worse? Baghdad In the middle of the conflicts for this, Alice watched the park crawl beneath the comforter, the first bits of Yosemite vanishing at the windshields bottom from her vantage in back. Soon, if she scooted toward the open door, she'd be able to see the open park below. If she fell after that, a parachute wasn't likely to save her. Hunters did fine in Yosemite, but an unarmed woman plunked among the nation's oldest Farrell's wouldn't last long. She might as well be wearing meat flavored perfume. Are you my pilot? On the way back, the pilot pretended to tip a cap, touching his helmet with a glove. Yes, ma'am, Fresno to **** on earth at your service. This time, Alice didn't bother to correct the pilot. Everyone knew the name that even the highest officials used for Northern Yosemite non politically correct or not. If she was going to break any big secrets today, that wouldn't be one. Then I'll have to tell you after my tour, Alice said, trying on a companionable smile, the pilot turned back to the windshield. Don't get bitten and it's a date, he said. Uh, this has been the indie fiction podcast Dead City, written by Johnny B. Truitt and Sean Klatt, performed by Scott Brick. Keep listening for the next episode