“We’ve got to find it, Rick. We’ve just got to.”

“Relax Martin, we will. It can’t be far, it was limping when I last saw it.”

The younger, stronger Rick took the lead as older, frailer Martin followed a bit behind. Rick wished the old man had stayed back at the ranger station. He got in the way more than he was of help but he insisted on tagging along. He wanted to see the thing die, if you could call it dying. It was dead days ago. (more…)

Rudy Bega, Census Agent # 334, pushed the door open with his shoulder.  He didn’t bother avoiding the chunky cranberry-and-sauerkraut splatter streaking its surface.  Within the room, a hollowed-out dog lay at the foot of the bed.  The bed was unmade, and the body of the woman who lay atop it was mostly gone.  Her brainpan was partially missing, and the remainder had the usual gnaw marks. (more…)

CHRISTINA

(horrified)

They’re eating human flesh!

I watched as the carnage unfolded before me. The cathode ray hurt my eyes, but I couldn’t turn away. I was transfixed to the images. (more…)

Monroe Massachusetts Daily Gazette
Excerpt from page 5B:
Public Awareness Editorial

Today marks the one-year anniversary since the horrible accident at the Brickner Laboratories that unleashed the plague. This airborne virus spread wildly across the United States bringing the recently dead back to life. The undead stalked and killed many citizens creating even more victims like themselves. (more…)

Dear Jessie and Bill,

I don’t know where you are or if I’ll ever see you again. The events of today have shocked and confused the world, but they’ve shocked and confused me even more. I’m still not sure if any of this is real, but you two are gone, so it must be. If I can never find you again, then I made a terrible, selfish mistake letting—no, forcing—our family to be separated. If you are safe, I hope you won’t read this until you’re eighteen or older. What happened today was terrible. That much is obvious even to young kids like you. For our family, though, it was doubly terrible, which you probably don’t know about. I don’t know how to explain it to you, or even if I should explain it. I hope to see you both someday soon, but I won’t tell you about it then. I’ll let you read this when the time is right . . . if the time is ever right again. (more…)

I’m not yet ready to express my own experiences during the Plague Years on paper, so I will do what I feel is the next best thing, and relate the experiences of others. What follows is my first real interview.Dave Henshaw looks tired. His appearance is that of someone overworked, a look that appears less and less in postwar Canada, as people rebuild their lives. His is a look that will stay with him until his death; it is a look of one who has seen or done things that cannot be forgotten. It is therefore a surprise that he is so forthcoming, with no coaxing from the author. I met him at his home in Cornwall, Ontario. He is in charge of repairing Cornwall’s roads. The havoc years of complete neglect wrought on the roads is surprising. The repair job is expected to take most of another decade. Here is his story, unedited. (more…)

Broadcast Tape Archive/January, 2011/RZFD 322/Full Transcript:

Hey there, living listeners.  It’s Big Dave here, broadcasting live from the fortress of ass-kickery at Radio Zombie Free Denver.  Yeah, I know I’ve been off the air for a while, and I bet some of you faithless heathens probably thought the zombies lunched up on me, but I’m back, kicking out the tunes, anti-zombie rhetoric, and inane observations at a newly-beefy one hundred thousand watts of AM fury.  I’m on AM bands 800 and 1320, FM 99.5, and Short Wave One where the BBC used to live. (more…)

I knew right away I wasn’t human.
But it took me nearly a quarter-million years to discover what manner of creature I truly am. I am a virus.

A virus is a genetic code without a body. Not even one cell. A single-celled organism has more of a body than a virus. A paramecium has more of a form than a virus. A virus is a parasite. A virus requires a host. A victim, if you please. (more…)

The Early Sun Cemetery was created sometime during World War I, and according to records no one has been buried there since 1945. It is about the size of a basketball court and adjacent to a small library which is located across the street from an abandoned Naval Ship yard. There are several old oaks in the middle of the yard and they provide a porous canopy across the hundred or so headstones. The stones are cracked and chipped and many are illegible because years of moss and fungus have faded the original engravings. However, the grass, what little there is, is always neatly trimmed and dead limbs and trash are always picked up by the library’s janitor. In the sunlight the graveyard appears well kept and pleasant, but moonlight shadows cast by a neighboring church’s bell tower and oak trees create a different appearance when the sun falls. The yard appears to illuminate in night with the touch of the moon’s rays. (more…)

6:43 A.M. Cobb County, Maine

The camera comes to life, the attached lights staring brightly ahead. It’s November 2008 and we’re in a school gymnasium that’s been set up as a voting station. There are tables and an American flag and there are ten elderly citizens sitting behind the tables, and stacks of ballots ready to be distributed… what seems a bit unusual are the big pistols and shotguns sitting on the tables and being carried about. The man in the room with the least firepower available, is the uniformed police officer sitting in the corner on a folding chair. (more…)

            As the heavy garbage truck crested the hill, Duane shifted gears.  The transmission gave a tired rattle and the truck slowed. Duane brought the truck to a shuddering stop on the gravel shoulder.  Down the highway, a farmyard waited off the edge of the road.  (more…)