The Last Queen of the Apocalypse novel Chapter 65

Chapter 65 Genius

Reconnaissance–strike drones, a first aid injector, emergency aid pills, a thousand pounds of fresh beef, and a hundred solar panels.

Hard work on her base was paying off—her future shone bright, brimming with endless possibilities.

Time to charge ahead!

Iris stepped out of the bomb shelter into the open air of her compound.

Logan was already at the outdoor cooking area, having finished preparing dinner.

“Iris, tonight we’ve got beef stroganoff and fried eggs,” he called, wiping his hands on a towel.

Iris nodded and waved him over. “Logan, come here a second.”

Hearing that, Logan raised an eyebrow and approached. “What’s up?”

“There’s something you need to know,” she said, her tone calm and steady.

onfusion crossed Logan’s face as Iris pulled out her one alia2

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her.

His jaw dropped in shock as the massive skylight on the shelter’s tower slid open, and a swarm of drones rose into the sky, their propellers humming in perfect unison.

“Our base drones. Just a little something I rigged up,” Iris said casually.

Logan stared, eyes wide with disbelief.

Those were military–grade drones, hovering above them. No mistaking it–reconnaissance–strike models.

Holy shit.

A “little something” she’d put together?

She’d built these? Actually built them?

After the initial shock, he found himself believing it.

Weapons like these were unobtainable on the open market, no

matter the cost.

Their design was unlike anything he’d ever seen–no military or weapons manufacturer in the world produced drones like these. If Iris hadn’t built them herself, there was no other explanation.

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around the base, each more impressive than the last.

None could be constructed with standard materials or techniques, nothing like what existed beyond the compound’s walls.

Take her armored vehicle, for example–it was the toughest armored vehicle Logan had ever seen, bar none.

He turned to stare at Iris, pure awe and admiration in his eyes.

Who’s she, really?

What kind of genius was his boss?

Seemed like there was nothing she couldn’t do. His admiration for her had reached a level beyond words.

*****

The next day, a blood–red sun crested the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink.

Warm sunlight spilled over the land, illuminating a world once hailed as humanity’s cradle, a place where countless miracles had been born.

Now, that world lay in ruins, a desolate wasteland stretching as far as the eye could see.

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Gone were the corner breakfast diners opening at dawn, joggers pounding sidewalks, street cleaners sweeping roads, and crowds rushing to work to make a living.

In the cities, only endless hordes of zombies roamed the streets, their guttural snarls and bloodcurdling howls cutting through

the silence at random.

A piercing scream shattered the air, emanating from the roof of a four–story factory building–over forty feet tall–inside a massive industrial complex on the city’s outskirts.

A deafening crash followed.

A thick stainless steel pipe slammed into a zombie’s skull, sending the creature tumbling off the roof to plummet below.

But it was too late. The defense line was collapsing, and nothing

could stem the tide.

A low, guttural growl rumbled through the air, mixing with the wet, hacking gurgles of the undead surrounding the roof.

Dozens of zombies swarmed up a raised earthen embankment beside the factory, clambering over one another’s rotting bodies to form a gruesome, living ladder.

After an entire night of stacking up, they had finally reached the factory roof.

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Gnarly, desiccated claws scrabbled at the concrete edge. One by one, bloodied, mangled zombie heads popped over the rim— faces twisted in gruesome snarls, flesh rotting off their bones.

They had starved for far too long. Their eyes were pale, milky, bloodshot, and filled with unquenchable hunger.

Eat.

Eat people.

Hungry!

A ferocious roar tore through the air as two zombies launched themselves over the edge onto the roof.

Two more deafening crashes echoed as metal met flesh.

Eight or nine men stood on the front line, swinging steel pipes with all their strength, fighting to push the zombies back with their last ounces of energy. Behind them, a dozen women clutched makeshift weapons, slamming them down on undead hands scrabbled over the roof’s edge to pry them loose and send the creatures falling.

There was no retreat behind them.

This was the top floor, the factory roof.

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earlier, sealed tight to keep the undead out–and now it was packed to the brim with zombies, their gurgles and growls echoing from within.

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