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Delivery times may vary, especially during peak periods. International postage and import charges paid to Pitney Bowes Inc. Learn more - opens in a new window or tab International postage and import charges paid to Pitney Bowes Inc. Learn more - opens in a new window or tab Any international postage and import charges are paid in part to Pitney Bowes Inc. I've found two of the alternate endings, and there are more to be had. Give Night of the Necromancer a chance. The question is not, "Will you be entertained?
The true question is This is one of your "pick your path" books. In other words, as you're reading about the characters fleeing from zombies, you get to make a choice as to decisions that they have to make throughout the book, like "should I go down this street? This is ok for a while, then it becomes a little repetitive and tedious.
I've got to tell you that I kept getting killed or eaten by the zombies, so I'm not the best at making these kind of survival decisions. If you like this type of premise, then you will probably enjoy seeing how long you can survive the "Night of the Necromancer". I've read most of Kyle West's work which I really enjoy - especially The Wasteland Chronicles and it was clear this was some of his early work. That's not a dig, but it wasn't the same as his later stuff.
However, I kept finding myself thinking, "I choose neither option! If this is your first Kyle West book and you weren't thrilled, don't stop here! I don't know if it was too much of a build-up in the reviews or what, I was really disappointed. The characters were good, the plot was good, I just felt let down. I think the pick your own aspect of it broke the flow up too much. I think so much more could have been done with each section. Everytime I started to get into it I had to change channels, so to speak.
I think that if you like this style of a book then it was probably a good one.
Just not my cup of tea. One person found this helpful. It had been a long time since I'd read a good choose-your-own-adventure novel, and Night of the Necromancer did not disappoint. I read it in about an hour, because by strange luck I chose every correct path for survival. Most of the time, the choices are very different from each other and can be determined logically, but other times it is just a random guess of two similar options.
Luckily, there is a guide at the end so I could go back and read the parts I had missed, since the death scenes were often even more entertaining than surviving! The details are not too horribly gruesome to make readers uncomfortable, but still scary and made for a suspenseful and terrifying zombie apocalypse. There were a lot of cool scenes I was not expecting. They didn't just shoot the zombies or beat them with crowbars, there was also bombs, fire, and a lot of other entertaining scenes that surprised me in a good way.
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This reminded me of the books my children had when they were young, you got to pick what happened as you read the story. Anyone with half a head left turns into one of them. Fifteen of them thrust their withered arms through the bars, fingers snatching at air. He remained at distance, sat at his desk, merely observing each creature.
Their skin was blistered and peeling, red raw from their clumsy stumbles. Yellow fingernails were brittle and curled with a mixture of dirt and blood stuck beneath. It had been seven months since the first had fallen into the trap. Angela, he called her, for her blonde hair and blue eyes, like an angel. She curled up in the corner of her cell with stringy, dirtied hair and torn once-white dress. He had expected her beauty to outlive him with her porcelain skin. Over time more had come. The holes in the forest ground above had crumbled away with each new victim.
He tirelessly covered them each time, waiting for the next. It had been two months since the last. Gabriel had been the last. Like Angela, named for his looks. The smooth skin, now cracked with dried blood where those claws of nails had lacerated it further. By chance he had landed in the cell with Mark and Joseph, two of the most vicious. They'd raked their hands over him.
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His dark skin had bloomed blue, purple, yellow. He watched Angela and Gabriel the most. They had made the most progress, with grunts and snarls. The rest had screamed. These two had been more reserved from the beginning. The Necromancer sighed, tossing a chunk of rat meat between the bars of each cell door. The creatures pounced, most screeching at one another, their bodies twisted in a bizarre dance of hunger. His angels stayed in the corners, biding their time. It took seconds for the first creature to fall, wailing as the others ripped flesh from their limbs.
In the next cell another collapsed. Then the last two. While in two cells the creatures still tore at the fallen wailer, the other two fell silent. Angela crept on her hands and feet, parting her two battling cell mates to crouch over the body of the third. Unknowingly, Gabriel mimicked her actions.
They simultaneously bent their heads down and fed from the torn, bloodied mess before them. The rat meat forgotten, the creatures slunk in to flank the angels, whimpering at the snarls they were shot. He had done it. Soon, his angels would be released upon the world, stronger than their brethren, fed from the weak. They would spread across land and multiply, an army of angels with a taste for the flesh of men. This wasn't the plan.
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It's all Brock could think about as he ran and scrambled up the stairs. Taking a moment to bend over and catch his breath, he spared a glance behind him to witness the carnage ensuing in the theater below. Friends and colleagues were being torn apart one by one as they came to understand what was happening. Their benevolent leader, Rebecca, had been consumed by the prospect of power. Instead of organizing the United Necromancers of the World UNW for short to plan their conquest of these pathetic countries, she had lured them into a trap.
Once everyone had gathered in the meeting hall, zombies poured through all of the entrances. Everyone had been distracted listening to her speech about sharing control over certain regions of the world. The first screams had pierced the quiet listening. It was too late at that point. The gaps of space to escape were filled with the mindless minions of Rebecca.
The chaos continued from there. Some fell to their knees sobbing. Others tried defend themselves pointlessly as the enemies they knocked down continued to get up. The wave of undead overtook them.
63) Night of the Necromancer Solution
Brock had been the only one to make it into the upper levels where the audio and lights were controlled. It seemed he had gone unnoticed too. Above the screams he could hear the cackle of Rebecca as blood splattered across the room. He turned back towards the staircase to see a few zombies climbing upwards.
Quickly he barricaded the door to the audio control room. For the next hour he listened to the sounds of flesh being torn from bodies and devoured by the undead. As the sounds faded, Brock peered down towards the meeting hall. The zombies and Rebecca had left. Moved on to continue their campaign no doubt.
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Cautiously Brock stepped out of his safe room. Walking downstairs he witnessed the horrors first hand of his dead friends. Torn into so many pieces that their body couldn't have been useful to Rebecca's zombie Army. The lobby of the hotel was a similar scene. A hotel employee that had hidden in a closet emerged at the sound of his footsteps.
He looked scared and confused. He reeked of human waste. Brock urged him closer. As the employee stepped forward a flash of steel crossed between them, opening his neck. He slumped to the floor holding his throat as Brock wiped the blade on his pants. When the man finally died Brock began his spell.
The zombie lifted from the ground slowly, eyes rolled into the back of his head and blood still dripping down his throat. Brock planned to build his own army to face Rebecca. He vowed to watch her torn limb from limb This must be a joke. Here I am, an artist on the verge of unfurling my masterpiece, ready to rise from obscurity to restore order through chaos, and some beggar's bloody beaten me to it. You see, I am the only successful necromancer for at least five generations.
At least I thought I was until today. I use the deep web to research and gather information, form plans and, admittedly, act a little shady, but all for a good cause. It really is a great resource, you'd be surprised what you can find when you dig deep enough, and it means I can keep a finger on the pulse of my community. Until now, nothing I've seen has lead me to believe that anyone, anywhere else in the world, had mastered the feats I have. Truth be told, I'm likely among the first to have realised that it's really happening - a few of my circle are already jabbering through Tor, disgustingly excited by the prospect, but I doubt they have any idea that it's actually possible, let alone really happening.
Almost no sign of panic, nor of daily life. Some nutter eating ears in Cali' gets mainstream attention nigh-on instantly, but this is quietly being passed off as crowd control. Then there's the hushed gathering of officials, the postponed meetings, the private jets. A few blurry photos escape into the wild before the communication lines are taken down - for the most part quietly mopped up by some image-savvy bot trawling Netlog and Reddit, but not before we get to them.
The photos are truly gruesome, by the way. What kind of self-respecting sorcerer uses fresh corpses? Of course it's economic to raise the people you kill, but it's a little heartless, don't you think? I mean they just died, and now your setting them upon their own families, their faces mostly intact? Shock tactics, that's all it is. Sure, your average moviegoer has been desensitized by years of ever increasing gore, and you need to go whole-hog to cause panic, but what farmer wants a terrified flock?
No, I prefer exhumates for my rank and file. Spectral pseudo-flesh to bind their bones, maybe some riot control gear or medieval armor once i'm more established - it will be a welcome change from the costume-store outfits i'm using at the moment. It's a little more effort, sure, but I think its worth it. People are much more likely to comply if they aren't about to be eaten. What an awful setting for something so significant. No, I take that back. I've never been to Ghent, don't really know anything about it. In fact, you know, it might be lovely - but that name Bury St Edmunds , now -that- has a ring to it.
Well, I won't be beaten without a fight. It's not far away after all, and this amateur can't have amassed half the knowledge I have. I'll go ahead with the plan as is, only now I spread to the mainland the moment I've taken the isle. I guess it was inevitable that someone would challenge me, and what a treat it would be to dethrone this pretender, double my number and double my power! As equals, of course, I'm no savage. Either way, I will live up to my heritage. It all starts here with St Edmund, the Patron of Kings and -.
Blimey they ain't half moving fast, though. They seem to be spreading, rather than marching. Worse still it's erratic - no coordination. Looking over the photos again - the bodies are clearly dead, wounds no mortal could survive - but I didn't notice how alive they were. This is some sort'a sodding rabies outbreak. Actual blasted hollywood bollocking zombies, and not the good old Romero kind. This is the end of the world, then. First they take out the EU senate, but then it's all down hill from there. Those poor refugees around Calais get swarmed, starting a chain reaction East towards the melting pots of political instability.
Why couldn't the ruddy pox have done us a favour and hit America first!?
Night of the Necromancer – Book Review | We Zombie!
Although then, I guess, it would hit the airports much faster There really is no ideal origin for a zombie outbreak, is there? I raise the troops, hit Dover, prove my worth to the armed forces that have no doubt already arrived, and secure the country. Lock down the border. Once we're ready we can let people in in drabs, safely. I'm sure can train my men to identify the virus somehow, or at least raise some ancients to deal with the infected - skeletons can't very well catch rabies, now, can they?
Oh, but the boats You hear of the brutal journeys people make as is. I can only expect fleets to arrive, and with all the graves in the bleeding country I couldn't hands-across-america the entire shoreline.