Apocalypse Z: The Beginning of the End

We never surrendered. We always kept in our hearts the most noble, beautiful feeling that sets human beings apart: hope.

It's official: we’re fucked.

Someone has opened the gates of hell, and you can feel the heat.

The world is no longer ours. It’s theirs. How long will this situation last?

I punched the glass, enraged. So close, yet so far. We were just a few inches from getting out of there. We could see the way out... and we were still trapped. Damn it to hell!

Something will happen soon, but I don’t know what. Fear travels faster than a dust cloud...and it’s already in the wind.

Some people say lawyers are sons of bitches. I won’t argue with that. But when it comes time to negotiate, it’s great to be a lawyer.

I have a theory that those mutants retain some memory of what they were in life, and that draws them to where they used to live. That’s probably bullshit, but since I seem to be the only man alive, my theories are the best in this part of the world.

Was it Roosevelt who said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself”? But he was never locked in a store in the dark, pumped full of adrenaline, covered in motor oil, with dozens of eager monsters banging on the gate six feet away, determined to kill him. I’m sure he would’ve been afraid. Fucking afraid.

But I’m human. Besides being irrational, stupid, and unpredictable, humans are really curious. I needed to know what the hell was making that noise.

Burying a person is hard, but digging him up is harder. He appears little by little—first his hands, then his body. . .and that awful smell. And it hits you he’s really dead.

It’s hard to decide what to take when you know you won’t be back for a long time. It’s even more complicated when your life depends on what you take.

The situation was really dangerous. If I couldn’t get back on board, I’d either drown upside down or I’d fall and be set adrift as the boat crashed onto the rocks on the shore. Lucullus certainly couldn’t sail the boat. Cats make lousy sailors.

There’s an old military saying that a plan only works perfectly when you try it out on the enemy.

It’s ironic. The poorest, most underdeveloped areas of the world are now humanity’s last hope. The rest of the world is one huge hell where a handful of scattered survivors are trying to escape.

I'd just learned an important lesson. The undead weren’t the only things that could kill me. Accidents, disease, hunger—all the normal causes of death—were just lurking in the shadows, waiting for their chance. If I weren’t careful, they’d catch me. I’d only been thinking about my stalkers. I’d forgotten something very basic: man is a fragile being.

Now these things know I'm here. But I'm alive. And if you're alive, you can fight to live another day.

My legs are still shaking. I was gone for less than twenty minutes and only went about half a mile, but I feel like I’m back from a tour in Vietnam. This is really fucked up. I thought I’d feel like the hero of an action movie. Truth is, I feel like prey who doesn’t know where the hunters are.

Tens of thousands of people died. Will thousands more die in the coming hours? You can bet your sweet ass I won’t be one of them.

I also bought a ton of food for Lucullus, my Persian cat, who’s been ignoring me lately. Some girl kitty in the neighborhood must be in heat. Lucullus thinks it’s his duty to shower her with his attention. He’s constantly jumping the wall in search of adventure. That wall’s ten feet high! What a guy won’t do for a girl!