Unicorn Death Drive

The first chapter is here!

Happy Friday!

It’s been a while since my last serial was posted on Authorstrator and I’m excited to share this crazy story with readers at long last. I promised Unicorn Death Drive a while ago, sorry for the delay but its here now and ready for your weekenc, complete with chapter doodles!

A note on the text:

So, understanding Unicorn Death Drive means understanding where it started, Zombie Shark Highway. I had a goofy idea, a hundred years ago, in the same vein as sharknado and avalanche sharks (if you haven’t seen these movies, you must). Something you should know about me - I LOVE a creature feature. The sillier the better. Give me your Rampage, your Lake Placid, your Anaconda. Some love true crime, i love a creature feature. So the idea with Zombie Shark Highway was really just to have some fun - could I make a sharknado-level ridiculous story into a book? A b-movie creature feature on the page?

Turned out - yes! The key though, for me to make the story work, was that the characters had to buy it. They had to be really and truly terrified, fighting for their lives. No winking at the camera. Zombie Sharks could move on land, and that’s a problem. Saber tooth tigers could rise from the dead and attack a cruise ship, and that’s a big problem. And sometimes unicorns, real unicorns, get a taste for human flesh. The audience knows its silly, but the characters absolutely do not.

When ZSH found an audience on Wattpad, I decided to keep going with my fun little project. It made me happy and made readers happy, so why not? I wrote Lava Cat Cruise Ship and then Zombie Shark Highway was recruited for the Paid Stories program, followed closely by Lava Cats. I also started Unicorn Death Drive. At this point, I knew the series, knew the world, and was excited to jump back in. But as I wrote, I got a bit more daring with the story - pushing the concept to its limit and having a lot of fun with style and format. The result is weird and silly, but hopefully also fun and exciting and if I’m honest, it’s my favourite of the three. So without further ado, let’s get into the man-eating unicorns and raging teenage hormones!

One

Professor Andrea Davis listened as another shrill wail pierced the night quiet of the Stallionhead Foothills.

She didn't know cows could scream. Not before tonight.

She clung to Clarabelle's reigns -- the sweet natured piebald she'd been so excited to ride only eight hours ago -- and waited as the wailing faded to nothing, the silent darkness swallowing up the sound. Professor Davis's panicked breathing thundered in her ears. The Stallionhead Foothills were an endless inky black. The moon and stars obscured by clouds, the darkness was suffocating. All she had to make sense of her surroundings was the heavy, frightened snorting from Clarabelle and the singing of the crickets.

She could feel the sticky wetness on her hands stiffening as it dried, could smell it rotting on her clothes -- blood. Cow's blood. How had she become so covered? She was an academic for God's sake! She didn't ride horses and stain herself in blood! She was supposed to be sitting behind a desk in her little office at Berkley. Not lost in the wilderness, praying for her life.

Professor Davis had come to the Foothills that morning to take samples, to do research. She hated herself, thinking of the rush she'd felt when she first rode up on the mangled corpses of four dead cows earlier that afternoon. They had been ripped open, entrails spilled everywhere. No coyote or wolf would have left so much behind. Indeed the hoofprints in the dust around the bodies left no doubt -- what had attacked the livestock had been equine.

But she'd never imagined this.

When the creatures had first surprised them -- Davis, Sherriff Carter and the farmer, Mr. Casey -- Davis thought she was dreaming. Hallucinating from too much time in the sun. What she saw -- it was impossible. Insane. But there was no time to process what her eyes were seeing. The creatures lunged for Mr. Casey first -- his head shorn off where the neck met the collarbone.

The Sheriff shouted at Davis to run. And run she did, tripping over the bloated corpse of the dead cow, scrambling for Clarabelle who took off into the night like a bullet from a gun.

Now, alone in the dark, Professor Davis had no idea where the mare had brought her, how far she was from civilization. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. She had to be smart now. Needed to focus.

The sound erupted again, somewhere in the distance -- the screaming.

Clarabelle shifted beneath her, stomping her feet. The horse knew what Davis knew -- that was no cow screaming.

That sound was human.

And as quickly as the screams had rung out, they were silenced, the chirps of the crickets filling the darkness once more.

"Sherriff Carter?" Davis whispered -- to who, she had no idea. Clarabelle, maybe.

The mare, for her part, tugged against the reigns, head bobbing anxiously. They couldn't stay here. Whatever the creatures had done to Sherriff Carter, they'd clearly finished. They'd be back on the hunt any minute. She couldn't afford to stand around and wait for them to find her.

Nervously, she kicked at Clarabelle's sides and did her best to steer the horse around, away from the direction of the screams. Professor Davis didn't know where to go, but away from here seemed a good place to start.

Clarabelle trudged along the rolling hills, sloshing through creeks and nearly tripping over boulders. Professor Davis squinted at the dark, desperately trying to see the way ahead. She needed to see a street light, windows illuminated in the distance, a powerline. Anything that suggested people were close.

But there was nothing except the darkness.

Clarabelle stopped abruptly, and Professor Davis gave her another gentle kick. "Come on, girl."

But Clarabelle didn't budge.

"Come on, I said."

The horse's ears twitched, listening carefully. Professor Davis's pulse began to race, and she strained to hear through the nothing for whatever had brought Clarabelle to a standstill. Finally, the horse stomped backwards, head tossing as she snorted.

Something was wrong.

Clarabelle began to rear up, and Professor Davis cried out, her balance wavering. "Easy, girl! Easy!"

But Clarabelle wasn't listening. She was panicked, her front legs coming up off the ground again and again and again, as if she were trying to toss Davis.

And then Professor Davis could hear what had set the mare off, somewhere behind them -- the thunder of hoofbeats.

The piebald reared up on her hind legs, sending Professor Davis flying. She landed on her stomach, the wind knocked from her lungs as she heard Clarabelle whinnying, galloping off into the night.

Professor Davis stayed there on the hard, parched dirt, her body aching. She listened, afraid to breathe as Clarabelle's hoofbeats echoed in the distance.

And then a snort erupted behind her. A deep, thick rattle she'd already heard once tonight.

"No," she whispered. She was not this person. She was not meant to die in the dirt, her body torn apart by some monster.

The clomp of massive hooves shook the earth somewhere behind her.

They were here.

And an instinct -- fight or flight -- burst up from somewhere deep inside her, the choice so blaringly clear she didn't hesitate.

Flight.

Professor Davis sprung up from the ground, ignoring the pain radiating through her body, and ran.

She didn't get four steps before she was impaled through the gut from behind. A white hot agony ripped past her spine, through her stomach, something warm spilling from her body. She looked down at her belly -- her own blood, black in the darkness, staining about 1.5 meters of a helix spiraled tusk.

Chapter 2

For the other books in the series, Zombie Shark Highway and Lava Cat Cruise Ship, now available on Authorstrator, check the ZSH and LCC sections of the newsletter!