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with
hundreds of names for their baby over the past eight months. One of
the early ideas they liked, but shied away from later, were names
that could fit a boy or girl, like Aaron or Erin. Aaron had the
bonus of being the name of Joe's father, who Sarah adored as her
own before he died.
    Joe held out his arms for his son. Denise
handed him over, and the baby stopped crying.
    “It's okay, Aaron. I'll take great care of
you.”
    Frank made it to the highway. It was almost
as bad as the streets near the hospital. Cars were on fire, dead
bodies on the shoulder of the road. He even had to maneuver his way
around a big rig that was on its side with its trailer blocking
most of the highway.
    Everyone in the van was quiet. Frank didn't
like it, and turned on the radio.
    Two deejays debated and theorized as they
took calls from several listeners.
    “I'm telling you, these things are walking
dead bodies. My neighbor got bit by one, and I can see him now from
my kitchen window. He's just standing in his backyard wandering
around.”
    “Yeah, I've heard the same thing here. It
looks like even people that are dying of natural causes are getting
back up. Only damaging the brain seems to do anything. I mean, what
is going on here?”
    “You think it's a terrorist attack?”
    “I doubt it. This is worldwide, and no one
has claimed responsibility. Maybe God's just pissed off at us.”
    “Whatever it is, for anyone listening, just
stay inside. They're dangerous, but they don't seem that smart or
fast. I've had a few callers say they've seen a few that can run,
but not any faster than you or I. So please-”
    They were cut off by the sound of glass
breaking.
    “Andrea, are you okay? Oh my God-”
    Those were the last words. Denise put a hand
to her mouth as they listened to two men dying over the air waves.
There were screams, then they turned into more of a liquid,
gargling sound as their throats were ripped open. They could hear
whoever Andrea was feasting.
    “We're all gonna die,” Margie said.
    Joe found strength, and it wasn't a mystery
where it came from. He looked at little Aaron, still sleeping in
his arms.
    “We're not gonna die,” he
said. “We will get through this.”
    “Amen to that,” Frank said. “I hope you guys
like the outdoors, cause that's where we're headed, at least until
this blows over.”
    They continued on the highway in silence.
Each one of them pondered their future.

Chapter 3
    Frank was wrong.
    It didn't blow over.
    It didn't take long for the world to die. Two
weeks after the dead began to rise, the news stopped broadcasting
altogether. There were the assaults on supermarkets and department
stores. The power went out slowly across the world, as less and
less people were around to maintain the facilities that had spoiled
society for a century.
    There was no stopping the walking dead. For
every person that died, there was one more walking corpse to avoid.
Even deep in the country and small towns, the dead walked. For
reasons that science was never able to determine, they didn't
decompose like normal corpses.
    The living did just as
much damage as the dead. People killed each other for food and
supplies. The world of the dead brought out both the best and worst
in people. Unfortunately, the worse seemed to have the greater numbers.
    Time passed, but for survivors, time was
meaningless. What did the passing of a day, a month, even a year,
matter to people surrounded by walking corpses?
    A lot of time passed for Joe Thompson and his
new family.
    Joe was in the middle of a nightmare. It was
a variation of a nightmare he had throughout the years. He was in
the middle of a busy city street, but he didn't know what city it
was. The walking dead surrounded him from every angle, building,
every alley. They were led by his wife Sarah. She wasn't a walking
corpse, like the others. She was alive and beautiful. As she got
closer she slowly decayed in front of his eyes, before shoving a
hand inside his