Land Down Undead 2
Choose your gory demise
by John.e.Normal
You were just a little girl when the dead stood up and began eating the living. You can remember looking out of your bedroom window and seeing their disfigured faces as they fed on your screaming neighbours. You remember the smell of urine running down your legs and feeling shame for having wet yourself.
Your father carried you to the car and placed you on the back seat. You lay face down and tried to ignore the screams outside. Your mother sat beside you and stroked your hair as the car moved through the city. You can still close your eyes and hear her trembling voice singing you a gentle lullaby.
Your family was lucky. You escaped from London and found refuge in one of the military evacuation zones. You grew up there, behind huge concrete walls, protected from the horror that lay outside. By the time you were a teenager the entire United Kingdom was free of the undead, and a long process of rebuilding society had begun.
The only significant horde left in the world was quarantined in Australia, a far away land whose native inhabitants fled. Your parents met there many years ago, long before the dead walked the earth.
You hold a deep curiosity for that country and its weird history. Once an ancient land of improbable animals, then a penal colony, then a backpacking mecca for drunken students, and finally the containment facility for the world's infected. In your purse you have a picture of your parents, very young and sunburnt, hugging each other in front of Ayer's rock. Now that your parents have passed away you feel like that picture and that distant land are the only connection you have with them.
When your editor asked you if you wanted to travel to Australia to write about the emerging zombie tourism industry you jumped out of your seat.
“Bloody hell yes,” you exclaimed without thinking.
She raised her eyebrows at you.
“You do know that it is dangerous there, don't you?”
You sat down and regained your composure. “Yes, maaam,” you replied. She paused and stared at you, perhaps rethinking her request. Then she picked up a flyer from the table and handed it to you. Land Down Undead Tours Inc was printed on the front cover. A big picture of a group of backpackers holding blood stained cricket bats dominated the rest of the flyer.
“You leave tomorrow,” she said as she smiled and nodded toward her assistant. “Donald has your itinerary, pick it up on the way out.”
You turned to leave but as you placed your hand on the door handle she called out.
“Ohh and Sarah,”
“Yes maaam?” you asked turning back to her.
“For Christ's sake be careful!” she pleaded.
