It's A Zombie World After All

    The year was 2050, and the world was returning to a more civilized state. Christmas was approaching fast, there was frost in the air, Christmas lights covered every available surface. December 12, 2012 would mark the anniversary of the Zombie Apocalypse.  For thirty-eight years, carnage reigned supreme.  Humans tried hard to fight of the zombie hoards, in return zombies feasted on human flesh. You could be eating lunch with your friend one day, and the next day he would be trying to eat you, it was tuff business. Governments all around the world, hired scientist to attempt to try and find a cure for the mounting epidemic.

    Finally, there was partial success. Doctors in Sweden were able to cultivate a vaccine that stopped decomposition in its tracks, returning brain function to the afflicted individual. There was one problem; they could not curtail the craving for human flesh. Five years later, scientist in China found a way to mass produce body parts. Soon grocery store shelves were stocked with human limbs. It was not uncommon to pass by someone eating a human leg. Slowly, life began to improve.

    My name is Phoenix Ayers; I am a reporter for the Daily Dread. I relay the stories of the day, what it is like to live as a New Yorker in a  post zombie apocalyptic world. Let me tell you, it’s not all it is cracked up to be, it can be quite tuff. The government has gotten quite good at sweeping zombie outbreaks under the rug. Out of sight, out of mind. Fortunately for me, I have friends in high places.

   A great friend of mine is a bounty hunter for ZEF (Zombie Elimination Force). He has been kind enough to pass on files, that the rest of the public, are not meant to see. Just before my friend, placed the files in my outstretched hand, he grinned, “You will want to see this.” I made a mad grab for the files, my interest was piqued “Just one second,” he said wiping any trace of humor from his face, “You did not get these from me, do you understand? This cannot come back on me. After you are done reading these, he continued shaking the files in my face, “ They must be destroyed.” That is precisely what I was doing a week ago, going over files not meant for my eyes, before shit hit the fan. Because the information I was reading was classified, I didn’t want to get caught.

   In a small nondescript coffee joint, off the main drag, I sat in a red leather booth. A gray sheet of rain separated me from the rest of New York, perfect. As I thumbed through the files, several complaints, had gotten mixed in, it was a lot of information to sort through.

   A zombie named Frank, was so very upset, that he filed a report. Apparently his best friend Steve (also a zombie) made a snack out of Frank’s hand. Frank had repeatedly insisted he told Steve to stop eating his hand. Steve in return, insisted that he was pretty sure that was the same hand, that he bought at the grocery store, that morning. An all-out brawl had ensued. During the fight, both Franks hand and liver went missing. Part of Steve’s lower intestine had been devoured by Frank. ZEF had been called in, to shut it down and hush it up.

I looked up, as my waitress hobbled over. She was an older lady, her ankle was mangled badly, the wounds looked quite recent. “What happened to your foot?” I asked leaning out of my booth for a better look. “You’ll never believe it!” She exclaimed throwing her hands in the air. “I come into work right, to open for the morning shift. It’s dark out, and I am trying to unlock the door, and this bum comes out of nowhere. I think he wants my purse right? No he starts chewing on my foot. So then I says to him, “’Look what you did you bastard, you better scat before I call ZEF! I’ll have to go have it looked at after I get done with my shift, more than likely they will have to vaccinate me again.’”

“What a shame,” I said shaking my head. “So what will it be?” the waitress asked, tapping her pencil against her tablet. “I’ll have an order of french fingers with syrup, a blood jelly donut, and a double whipped eye java,” I reciting my favorite breakfast off the top of my head. “You got it,” she said, and limped away.

I returned my attention back to my work. As I flipped to the next page, there was something interesting, highlighted in red, ‘Chinese may be flooding the market with more than genetically engineered body parts.’