I was going to some kind of Christmas party. It was being held in a big suburban house. Everything around that house had that new housing development feel to it, young tress, new sod, very flat. The house was very large and there were a lot of people there.
When I was on the way there I had heard something about a zombie infection that was going around. If a zombie bit you, you would become a zombie. I did not think this was going to happen at the party. After a few minutes at the party, I realized that the rest of the people at the party were already zombies.
When I realized this, the people started to attack me. There was very little I could do. The problem with zombies is that you cannot hurt them. I could knock them around, but they just kept on coming. I tried to run away, but they just kept on me. There were so many of them, it was hard to get away from. I had to fly away from them. I only flew a few feet off the ground. It took me a while before I got far enough away that they did not follow me.
I met up with a few other people who had not been infected. We had decided to go to Mexico. No one in Mexico had been infected. We decided to make a run for the boarder. We had stolen an 18-wheeler full of produce. We knew there was a food shortage in Mexico and thought they would not let us in if we did not bring something.
We were almost at the border. The truck did not have any brakes left. We ditched from the truck. A Mexican border guard shot the truck with a rocket launcher. The truck stopped on a huge car pile up in front of the border. We just walked across the border.
There were five of us. We had to get jobs right away. The first jobs we found were at a car part factory. The factory was a mess. If felt more like prison then a job. All the workers were mean to each other. I was doing a job that I did not understand. The five of us thought it was the only job that we would be able to get.