Read The Undertakers: End of the World for Free Online

October 31st rolled around, the deaders had completely conquered the Earth. Then they set about the process of hunting down and wiping out the few remaining survivors.”
    I’d listened to this with mounting horror, struggling to wrap my head around it. I asked, “How many people are left?”
    Once again, the three of them shared an uncertain look. “Better let the chief explain that,” my sister suggested.
    Maybe it was my state of mind—which we should probably label as “half-nuts”—but my eyes lit up at the mention of the Chief of the Undertakers.
    “Tom!” I exclaimed. “Yeah, take me to Tom!”
    The three of them swapped looks. “We could,” Steve said.
    Amy asked, “What about the Corpses?”
    My sister answered, “They’re still looking for us on the other side of the river. It should be safe enough, safer than usual, in fact. Besides, he’s got a right to know. It might make things easier … later.”
    “Know what ?” I asked. “What’re you guys talking about?”
    But no one replied.
    The women kept paddling, taking us further along this subterranean river. In the surrounding darkness, barely illuminated by Steve’s lantern, I recognized the walls of what, in my day, had been the Market-Frankfort subway line. In the “tomorrow” world, it was an underground channel of filthy black water, with rusted iron walkways bolted into the walls, just high enough to stay dry. These had probably been installed to allow access for refugees, back when all of this had been meant to do somebody some good.
    The only ones strolling along those catwalks now were rats. Big rats.
    Finally, we reached 15th Street. The old subway platform was still there, though the entrances and exits had gotten bricked up long ago. From the look of things, the Undertakers had converted it into a kind of dock. By the light of additional hanging lanterns, I saw a half-dozen canoes like this one, all tethered to cleats mounted along the platform’s edge.
    Amy and Emily bumped us up against an open spot and tied us off before climbing out of the canoe. Steve and I followed, the narrow, round-bottom boat wobbling below us. How terrible would it be if I fell in? Was the water cold? Given all this ruin and destruction, was it even water anymore, strictly speaking?
    It smelled like death.
    Emily took one of the lanterns from the post and led us along the platform to a maintenance door. Through the door was a narrow concrete hallway, dark and old. “Stay close,” my sister said. “The floor’s uneven in spots.”
    So I stayed close while, all around us, rats squealed and scurried away from the light.
    “Where are we?” I asked.
    Then I heard a bizarre howl, utterly alien. The others took it in stride. And so did I, but only because I recognized it.
    A cat.
    “City Hall,” I said, answering my own question.
    Emily nodded grimly, her face pale in the lantern light. “Yeah, they’re still here.”
    I shrugged. “At least some things haven’t changed.”
    Philly’s City Hall had been infested with feral cats for more than a century—closer to a century and a half now, I supposed. During the Corpse’s final attack on Haven, Tom had even made weapons of the little monsters, capturing dozens and then dumping them all on top of invading deaders. The cats were scavengers, and they loved dead flesh.
    From the piping and smell, I guessed all this had to be part of the city’s old sewer system. And, when we stopped, I realized that I’d guessed right; Emily shone her lamplight on an ancient iron ladder leading up to what looked like a good old fashioned man-hole cover.
    “I’ll go first,” she announced. “Once I’m sure it’s clear, I’ll signal for the rest of you to follow.”
    “Sounds good,” Steve said.
    “Watch yourself,” Amy said.
    “What’s up there?” I asked, but no one replied.
    Giving Amy her lantern, Emily climbed the ladder. The rungs creaked, but held.
    At the top, she hunkered down and, for a second,