No matter how hard I'm grieving, how much I miss my husband, I know I don't want to die or become one of those mindless walking dead that thrives on brains.
Eight months ago, I lost my husband. The only man I ever thought I could love. He’d taken care of me, had always been there for me.
It was right when the virus hit our town. It’d been going for a couple of years by this point, but our town was a sanctuary for survivors. Until it hit of course, and my husband had been in the line of fire.
I’ve been on my own since. Until two stragglers catch my eye and turn my world upside down. I’ve got widow’s brain, mourning his death, and confusion topping it all off at these newcomers.
Oh, right, there are also zombies in every direction I look. So, I have to figure out how to survive at the same time. Not sure how I’m going to manage, but the desire to live has been the only thing pushing me forward at this point. Because no matter how hard I’m grieving, how much I miss my husband, I know I don’t want to die or become one of those mindless walking dead that thrives on brains.