Earth, the green planet. Upon this massive canvas life has painted itself to the very edges, and at the peak of all this glory and beauty sits the human race, homo sapien. Humanity developed a level of intelligence, of sentience unrivaled by any other life form upon the earth. However, for all of the brilliance and wisdom of humanity, it failed to take one thing to heart. That human nature is ultimately self destructive. War stormed the face of the globe, hate seethed in the minds of all people, in the name of one thing or another. Peace, though sought by many, could never be achieved. Perhaps it would have eventually occurred, but now it is unarguably impossible. Life no longer rules on earth. Now, the dead rule.

"There's about forty stenches heading here way of Harrison Road," reported John Silverman to Garry Cardine.

"Shit," breathed Cardine. "You idiot, did you alert them?"

"Yeah," replied Silverman. "But it was-"

Cardine cut him off. "I don't care why, or how. We have to get the hell out of here." He pulled out his sidearm and cocked it. Silverman reloaded his pistol.

"How long do we have?" Cardine asked.

"I'd say around forty seconds," answered Silverman. An eternity. Cardine nodded, and started the engine of his jeep.

"Get in." Silverman complied, but he didn't sit. He climbed around to the back seat, which had been converted into a cradle for a large automatic gun, and placed his right hand on the handle, with his left on the trigger.

The first of the stenches rounded the corner moments afterward, and catching sight of the two human sitting pretty in their jeep, began sprinting towards them. Then Silverman opened fire, and Cardine began driving.

The zombies fell in droves, mowed down by the wall of bullets emanating from the barrel of Silverman's gun. Skulls exploded like watermelons, bullet wounds erupted from chests like small volcanoes. As Cardine accelerated to the jeep's top speed, they began to leave the creatures behind, even though the zombies showed no inclination of giving up the chase. Eventually, however, Cardine reached the exit to the highway, and he pulled onto it. Their pursuers were nowhere in sight by now, and the highway was deserted. Silverman sighed and crawled to the passenger seat.

"Jesus… That went badly," he said.

"We're going to need to find somewhere to get food. I'm hungry, you're hungry. All I got out of that convenience store back there was a cheese danish and a bag of chips," said Cardine, his eyes not straying from the road. You never know when a deserted car or some old stench will appear in front of you.

"Where are we going?" said Silverman.

"I don't know." Few words passed between them for a while after that.

Silverman and Cardine had stolen the jeep when the City's borders had been breached by the stenches. Silverman still remembered how horrible it had felt, seeing the City, his last safe place, fill with ugly rotting corpses. He hated them. What he hated more, though, was what Cardine had made him do to survive. Shooting those guards… they wouldn't even have gotten in their way. Silverman doubted his ability to ever forgive Cardine for that, but what happened happened, and there was no real point in looking back. If there was one thing Silverman had learned from his fight for life , it was that you couldn't change the past. The present was all that mattered. He reached down into the pack by his feet and took out a second pistol, shoved it into his belt.

"Hey, Cardine," said Silverman.


" What the hell is that," he said, normally at first, but it escalated into a scream as some large, metal thing rushed to meet them. A jarring impact, then darkness overtook them both.