Zombies Can Be Such a Burden
So you’ve raised your loved ones from the dead, but had no idea how difficult it would be to care for them.
No problem! Silver Springs is a warm, peaceful facility equipped to handle all your zombie needs. Their friendly staff will ensure they have a safe environment with daily exercise and raw meat. Rest easy knowing they’re in good hands… as they rot.
In a world where certain people can will others back from death, Silver Springs Specialty Care Community caters to the undead for those who aren’t quite ready to let go (zombie milk available by special arrangement at the home office).
Dean, retired from the military and looking for an easier life, runs security at this zombie herding farm, but he learns that dark injustice is not unique to war. There’s a rotten core to Silver Springs. Now, Dean and a quickly-decaying corpse named Patrick are on the hunt for a woman they both love and lost to a lucrative business that specializes in greed, zombies and never having to say goodbye.
Exiled from his home and family, bokor Papa Murphy still has his faith–a faith many hold responsible for the existence of the modern plague of zombies. Slow-rotting living corpses raised for a quick buck and a laugh, Murphy knows the truth.
These zombies aren’t flesh-eating horrors; they’re trapped souls, enslaved and bound to earth. Walking the dark paths of the left hand of magic, Murphy never expected to become a hero of the zombie apocalypse.
“There are three of us, sitting in the dark, on a moonless night, in the basement of an abandoned house. Meghan. Rick. And me, Sean. Honestly, it’s starting to stink down here. But that’s to be expected. We found each other by chance, hiding from what turned out to be each other in an abandoned house not too far away. We stayed together after that, for what little protection an extra set of eyes on the look out offered. The stairs were the first thing we destroyed when we found this little safe spot in a broken world. Something in the house above us came down after the stairs. Whatever it was made the hatch down to the basement impossible to move. We’ve already come to terms with this and with the worst images our minds show us about our future.
There are tiny windows, set into the stained concrete walls. They let in the light during the day. It let in the light from the street lamp outside too, until something out there broke it. None of us complained, because in a way it’s better if you don’t have to always see how trapped you are.
It’s been three days, and I don’t know about any of the others, but I’m starting to get hungry.”
– From “What Was Once a Man” in Blood Shots