An Ordinary Body in the Apocalypse

When the meteor that would destroy the world streaked across the sky, I was crammed into the subway during rush hour, complaining about my boss.

After black fog engulfed the earth, civilization shattered like glass, leaving the land strewn with shuffling corpses.

Now I’m prying open the last half-bag of biscuits in an abandoned supermarket, when three rotting faces appear through a gap in the shelves.

Their decomposing ears twitch. They turn their gray-white eyes toward the sound, fixing on my position.

My backpack has water and food, but I’m more concerned about the steel bar wrapped around my waist:

After all, in this boundless wasteland, the zombies aren’t the only ones who can kill you. There are countless hungry fellow humans, too.