Chapter 17: Mark Jones, September 16th, Year 0

I got off the phone with Art Bingham. I told him that I had been appointed by the Deputy Secretary of Homeland Security to be the Federal Director of Emergency Services in Utah on the 9th. If Art had asked, I could have told him the Deputy Secretary’s name: Henry Trevino. I had looked up his name on Google.

So why did I claim this? Because I didn’t think Henry Trevino was still alive and so I doubted that anyone would ever find out that this wasn’t true. I did this because human beings, especially in times of crisis, are hierarchical. I had spent the last three days exploring a two-square mile area around my house. We were now five days into the zombie outbreak and I had seen no other humans on the streets in three days.

I live in a major metropolitan area. If there had been any remaining political authorities around, Federal, state, or local, I would have seen someone outside. There were civilians still alive in this area. Besides the ward, there were five houses that had been adequately boarded up and fortified. My drinking buddy Jim Wright and his two roommates were still alive. From what I could tell, the only thing that the other survivors were thinking right now was about day-to-day survival. I was thinking about how to kick the zombies’ and vampires’ asses. If anyone was going to be top dog, it needed to be someone who was thinking about winning, not just surviving. I made myself the top-ranked surviving human in Utah because I was the best man for the job. Somebody had to make sure that humans survived, and that somebody was me.

Chapter 18