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Read an Excerpt of Game Changers of the Apocalypse by Mark Kirkbride | Book Tour | Post-Apocalyptic Horror

Game Changers of the Apocalypse by Mark Kirkbride is on virtual book tour.  The post-apocalyptic horror stops at Readeropolis with...

Game Changers of the Apocalypse by Mark Kirkbride is on virtual book tour. 

The post-apocalyptic horror stops at Readeropolis with an excerpt. 

Be sure to enter for a chance to win the giveaway for a $20 Amazon GC and follow the Silver Dagger book tour (for other dates see the link at the bottom of the post).

Game Changers of the Apocalypse
by Mark Kirkbride
Genre: Post-Apocalyptic Horror

It’s always the end of the world when you break up with someone. This time it really is... Everyone on the planet has mysteriously disappeared, leaving exes Greg and Polly. They've survived the apocalypse, yet shouldn't have. Battling each other and a malevolent entity that teases them with their fate, how long can they remain ahead? Even more terrifying than everyone else on the planet disappearing is what’s about to take their place…

Mark Kirkbride lives in Shepperton, England. He is the author of two novels, Game Changers of the Apocalypse and Satan's Fan Club, both published by Omnium Gatherum. His short stories can be found in Under the Bed, Sci Phi Journal, Disclaimer Magazine and Flash Fiction Magazine. His poetry has appeared in the Big Issue, the Morning Star, the Mirror and Horror Writers Association chapbooks.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway!

In his peripheral vision, she shook her head.

With his hands on the wheel, he glanced at her. “What?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t even slow down.”
He slapped the steering wheel. “Jesus. How many more times? She was already dead.”
The glance Polly threw him lodged like a grappling hook in his soul. “But she was just a child.”
“You’d rather I’d have let her eat you?”
“How do you know she’d eat me?”
He gestured at streets no less devoid of life now that they were no longer empty. “Cos we’re the hottest buffet in town. I mean, you saw them coming for you.”
A tall woman with long white hair stepped out into the road.
He swerved round her to avoid an argument.
“Well, how come they don’t hassle us in the car?” Polly put her window down.
He pressed the button to put it up from his side. “I don’t know. It could be the tinted windows. Or maybe they go by sense of smell or body warmth.” He turned to see her staring at him. “Think of it like driving through a safari park. All that’s left is the basic, cunning animal part of the brain.”
“What are they doing here?”
“They’ve been sent.”
The volume of her voice shot upwards. “Sent?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “By him?”
Blake nodded.
They knew who they meant even if they didn’t know who he was.
Her nearest eyebrow quivered. “Why?”
“They’re a proxy.”
Her eyebrow stalled. “What does he need a proxy for?”
“There’s an anomaly that needs… rectifying.”
“What anomaly?”
A few waggles of his finger took in the two of them.
She blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we survived the end of the world and…”
“Shouldn’t have.”
Her head sank.
God damn it. Can I never lie? Not even just once?
He cleared his throat, squirmed upright in his seat. “But look…” Two on this street, one on the last... “There’s not that many of them. It’s, it’s manageable.”
A shadow spread across the road.
“What’s that?” she said.
“Must be a cloud.”
She looked this way and that. “That big and only one?”
The shadow changed everything. It rendered road and pavements and buildings drab, which instantly became the new norm.
Several yards ahead and behind, sunlight gave the street a fresh lick of paint.
The band of dullness only widened as they drove across it.
He spun the car round at the next crossroads and stopped.
They both looked up.
“Holy hell,” he said.
“Oh… my… God.”
A gargantuan black airship floated in the blueness.
An engine pod stuck out from each side with a giant float beneath it. The fuselage went on and on. Now another set of engine pods and floats crossed the street. More blank fuselage. Until the black craft retreated to just the horizontal and vertical stabilizers of its tail.
“Look, look, there’s another one,” cried Polly.
Three or four times longer than any airliner and fatter than it looked side on, the airship above turned and, at the end of the street intersecting theirs, a second nosed into view.
He followed her line of sight as she looked the other way and her eyes widened.
A fleet of titanic Zeppelins darkened the sky.
“What the hell’s going on?”
“I don’t know.”
She thumped his arm. “But you should know.”
One airship dipped as it turned. It assumed the attitude of a colossal bomb.
He put the car into gear and set off not so much after it as heading in the same direction and endeavoring to keep up with it. He didn’t want to lose it. Nor did he want to get too close.
Their focus wasn’t on the street any more, and it wasn’t on the inside of the car. It was directed a couple of hundred feet up.
They lost sight of the dirigible behind flats stacked on top of launderettes and newsagents and betting shops. He had to second-guess the extent of its turn and descent. Then, in gaps between elegant Georgian façades, he caught glimpses of tilted black hull slung slantwise across side streets, a little straighter each time.
The park they’d met in, and, later, fallen out in, meant a massive detour. He had to put his foot down to keep up.
In the mirrors, the front of the airship levelled out into wind, came in low over a line of trees.
He screeched round a corner and slowed right down.
So far it had been impossible to take in the whole of the airship in one glance. Now they could. It was pointy like a rugby ball but elongated like a cigar. In perfect profile, it had three sets of engine pods with floats attached this side and presumably the same number the other side. It had a gondola slung beneath it where the airship started to curve upwards towards the nose. The belly of the beast had a passenger compartment with two decks and each deck had windows and hatches.
What were those blobs at the windows? Not tiny faces?
The propellers unblurred and the giant craft stopped, right over the park.
She touched his arm. “Stay back.”
He pulled up, tugged the handbrake on. “Don’t worry, I am.”
The propellers flickered into life again, rotating just enough to keep the airship in position.
A hatch popped open. Then another and another and another and another all along its considerable length.
Rope ladders unreeled from these hatches, with a corresponding complement drop-swinging on the far side.
Figures appeared, climbing down them with slow, stiff movements.
As soon as one was on the way down, another took his or her place at the top of the ladder.
One lost its footing and fell, thirty or more feet.
Polly gasped as it got up and joined the others.
Lines formed, curving round trees, bushes, flowerbeds and the fountain, streaming towards the exits of the park as if according to some prearranged plan.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said.
“Good idea.” He stamped his foot and their necks jerked as the Nissan leapt forwards.


  1. Best of luck with the book and book tour! I included the tour in the Friday, Jan. 11, 2019 edition of The BookTube Your Shelf Daily Reader:

  2. Love it, I really enjoy apocalyptic themes

  3. Thank you very much, SB. Sorry for the late reply. I've been fighting zombies!

  4. The cover is great & the colors.


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