The zombie apocalypse on its own is hell on earth. But when some zombies can talk and think it's a whole other level of trouble.
Part One: A New World
Prologue – Seth
The last thing I recall when I look back is pain, complete and utter pain throughout my body. Then everything went dark. I remember clinical smells and the beeping of machines. I remember worried voices, voices of those I think I was once close to. But when I next opened my eyes, I knew they were a much paler blue than they''d ever been. I knew my heart was still and I could feel the coldness of my skin. I was in a dark, private hospital room attached to various machines. I felt weak and light-headed and the first thing I did when I left that room was try to find water. I ignored the growing worry that was taking form as I took in empty hallway after empty hallway. The air was warm and stale, like the air-conditioning system wasn't working anymore. And an odd smell was tugging at my mind. A part of me knew I shouldn't be moving or functioning in any way. One look in the mirror told me I was a walking corpse. But I didn't panic. It felt like my emotions were dulled. I eventually found a water fountain but it made no difference to the burning in my throat. I heard movement somewhere nearby, but when I explored I found nothing close-by. When I heard it again I widened my search and found the hospital's exit. The sound caused was louder this time, as if it could deafen me, but still I found nothing. Then I saw him out of the corner of my eye. He looked middle-aged with black hair and haunted eyes. He had a torn work shirt on with dark stains. He looked like he was trying to avoid something, something he was very scared of. He was also very clearly alive. Everything after that thought was a blur, a horrible, guilt wrenching blur. All that was left to see was blood. Blood covered my hands and face. Blood covered the floor and what was left of the man. His screams still echoed in my ears. I knew in the back of my mind what I was and I searched the tatters of my memory to find it. Once I found the word, what was left of the emotional barrier broke and I could feel everything again. But surely there was no such thing as a zombie who could feel?