We were the last escapees of the city by the bay. In the end, San Francisco had five thousand living to ship to other communities to the east. The governor declared San Francisco the land of the undead, and blew up the bridges connecting it to the rest of the state and collapsed the Caldecott Tunnel for good measure.
My skin had been burned lobster-red my first week of roof living here. San Francisco is more known for fog and chilly days than for getting a suntan. Now my skin was the burnished copper of my ancestors–Native Americans of some unknown tribe, according to Mama. The long hair my husband had insisted on was gone–happily. Long hair and zombies just did not mix. My first day here I saw a young, blonde girl pulled back by her long braid and devoured. Hair gone. Also happily gone, the extra thirty pounds I had carried through my unhappy marriage was gone too. Running from zombies was the best aerobic exercise around. The penalty for missing a day of exercise was death–or non-death in our case.
No one knew for sure yet if the animals were susceptible to the mutation, so breakfast was lots of fruits and vegetables and soy patties. After six months of eating the food and drinking the water, either you turned undead or not. Scientific types were still testing cows and pigs to see if they just had the flu vaccine in them or if it would mutate in them too.
So, fruit, veggies, and soy weren’t too bad, considering in the last days in the city some of the inhabitants were considering eating the grass in their yards. Brentwood, and the surrounding small towns, was a farmer’s market dream. Orchards for miles and farms galore. With the population down to ten or eleven thousand there was plenty for everyone.
Food wasn’t a problem. Harvesting and transporting it was. It’s hard to pick a row of corn if you’re afraid the man-eating walkers are in the next row over. I’d never been the growing type. If it needed care and tending, I would probably kill it. Fortunately, I was an excellent marksman. Who knew? I’d never shot a gun in my life. When we got here they put us through a bunch of tests; agility, strength, skills, and shooting. I’d scored a hundred at all distances. No picking apples for this girl, I was made a member of the undead hunting patrol.
Breakfast out of the way, I cleaned up my section of the roof. Gathering up my dirty clothes, and believe me, you haven’t seen dirty until you try to get zombie guts out of your shirt, I took them to my friend, Michelle, who had laundry duty this month. Michelle Greggs had been on the bus with me out of San Francisco. We’d clung to each other all night as the horde of undead tried to get to the fresh meat inside the fortified school bus. We’d been friends ever since.
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Hope you enjoyed the Zombie Sneak Peek, now please go and check out the rest of the great sneak peeks at: http://sneak-peek-sunday.blogspot.com/
Jill James, author of paranormal and contemporary romance
Love in the Time of Zombies coming soon!