Zombie ... I feared the word. It festered on the tip of my tongue. I feared the zombie apocalypse and now I was part of it. On wobbly legs I rose on the shore: a wet bundle of brainless rags. I didn't know my name. Drowning in saltwater preserved a smidgen of brain function, but not nearly enough. The first person I met, an elderly lady, tasted heavenly. I had an oral orgasm and an addiction. "Yummy, yummy, yummy I've got granny in my tummy.." I wanted to sing but didn't know the tune. Vague memories of a wife and kids oozed into my clouded consciousness. I lurched homewards to hug them and show I survived. "Till death do us part," she had vowed. She didn't seem pleased to see me. Less so after I ate her new boyfriend. My kids played with worms that dropped from my groin. I don't eat children. The zombie horde welcomed me and we visited a school. The police battled us, we fought the army, it combated a dark cabal of confused vampires, they confronted a posse of townsfolk. You can't know life until you know death. Done in the style of Max Brooks and George Romero. Selected by Red Rattle book of England and Severed Press of Australia.
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