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It’s been well over a century since an infection morphed the dead and weaker humans into flesh-eating beings, throughout the years as humans were hunted by the dead, the dead began to civilize and breed, becoming smarter, growing customs, evolving to become slightly civil; talking, walking, learning, teaching, having families, new evolutions with each generation of dead; the one trait the never changes, is ever constant is the hunger for humans, the thirst for blood and flesh. Humans on the other hand, are dying off quickly, making up even less of the population as the days sweep past, survivors; often band together and form ‘families’ to either run from or fight the dead. Now, with a new generation of dead, comes a new evolution, survivors call it the ‘flesh conservation’ evolution, now dead will take some humans alive into large cities or towns and breed them, raise them like livestock. Only to later sell their flesh on the market to carry on their race, and their ever growing population of slightly civil residents.



I’ve lived here for awhile now, with these people I don’t really even know that much about, with Mrs. Gretchen, who owns the house that keeps me safe, she’s a little on the heavy side to be alive if you ask me, then there’s Mr. Callaway, who insists on carrying a lamb around with him in his arms, he claims it’s good luck for us all, and I don’t complain because we are still alive, but, we all know is just the remainder of his tragic loss of his farm and his family. Then, there’s Dell, my real brother. He’s only a year older than me, but he still insists on treating me like I’m 5 years old. He also feels the need to protect me like our parents couldn’t, you see, our parents were killed over 7 years ago by the dead, my brother managed to grab me and run into a boat on our private dock while the dead feasted on our parents. I was 10 when this happened, and I can’t forget it, how our mom and our stepdad cried out in pain, agony, and worry while the dead dug their teeth and nails into our parents guts, ripping them open like a Christmas package and letting the blood flow down them like their own fondue. So, without a word my brother made us sail off as far as the boat motors gas would let us go, and that’s how we ended up here, in this small house on the lip of the canal where it runs out to the sea, my brother never intended for there to be people living here, he just stopped the boat and told me he’d do a quick B&E to grab food to help last us for however long it took us to get away. Sure enough, as soon as my brother tried to grab food, he found a man bearing a shotgun at his forehead. Lucky for him, he could prove himself living, when he did prove himself human, they let me and him stay with them, it was a kind gesture we couldn’t refuse. So, I’ve lived here, and over the 7 years I’ve been here, I’ve noticed things about the dead, hey began to walk like humans and they quit grunting soon; just like humans, not at all like the fake looking zombie that old movies had shown us, they were living now, like humans, though they still killed neighborhood cats and the occasional deer, they… were evolving.

My brother says I am crazy, that they can’t speak, that they weren’t evolving, that I am losing it, they were dead, just the dead. They are the same now as they were 7 years ago, stumbling, groaning, dumb, vicious dead. He’d tell me, He also tells me how they are as easy to kill then as now, so it wouldn’t matter. Tonight, we have to make a ‘run’ which is basically taking a sack to an old abandon store and finding all the food and items I can while stumbling in the dark and trying not to make noise to attract them to me or my brother, not to mention, it’s also raining.