One man, living alone, has survived the end of the world. An epidemic has swept the globe and turned its victims into undead cannibals. The walls of his rustic mountain cabin, which served as a welcomed retreat in his previous life, are slowly closing in. After eighteen months of survival and solitude, he feels isolation taking its toll. Intent on relieving his carnal urges before going completely mad, he travels to a nearby town, and finds a female companion with a few surprises of her own. (M/F)
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In this world, a world without the noise of mankind’s machines, silence truly was golden. Leaves and debris covered the pavement as the Earth slowly reclaimed the evidence of our intrusion. The few homes I passed, windows long dark, glass long broken, gave me a feeling of desolation and foreboding. Isolation was the reason I purchased the cabin to begin with. Although it saved me and offered security in this nightmare, the loneliness was taking its toll.
Crawling along the road, driving the SUV gave me a sense of comfort. Although I’d been hesitant to purchase such a large and inefficient vehicle, and often cursed trying to park the damned thing, its size, weight, and stability were gentle reminders of the ‘old world.’ In that world, a nice, shiny SUV was looked at, among other things, as a status symbol. I smiled at the irony as I turned onto the main two-lane highway: in this world, the symbol would be used to capture my status.
What if you see a real girl?
Damn. I hadn’t really considered that. Although the chances of finding a lone human female were slim, there was the possibility. For that matter, what if I encountered anyone? There were others, only a few, but others nonetheless. We’d crossed paths foraging, but I knew little about them. We rarely spoke, unless to inquire about possible bartering, but what would I say?
Just tell anyone who asks you’re foraging for supplies. The items in the back could be for anything.
True enough. Unless I wanted to risk being thought completely insane, I’d say I was simply looking for supplies. Anyone would surely think I’d developed…damn. What was the term?
Yes, ‘cabin fever,’ if they knew I was going to abduct a zombie for a sex slave.
Shifting nervously in my seat, I leaned forward to look in the mirror. The hollow eyes looking back startled me. I was thin, pale, unshaved, and my thick, brown hair curled wildly from months of untamed growth. I was actually starting to look like one of the crazed hermits I imagined.
So, back to the original question, Brad Pitt. A real girl. What will you do?
Settling back, I weighed the options. Whether or not ‘cabin fever’ was setting in was debatable, at least for now. True, I planned to capture a zombie for a sex slave, but that was only to relieve primal, hardwired urges. How long would such a substitute suffice? It certainly would be nice to have a living, breathing, talking companion, even if she were…unwilling? I had to have something or someone. Period.
So you’ll abduct another human being?
Sighing, I sank a little lower in my seat. If it came to that, I knew I would: I had no choice.