Here is what has happened a century or so after the South won the civil waror won it, anyway, to the extent that we seceded, and nobody stopped us. Weve all turned into some sort of zombies. Im from the United States of Confederacy. Weve got all different kinds of people, but theres more blacks that live in the North. You have to be armed all the time. I started out with a semi-automatic and a pistol, but somewhere along the way I acquired an automatic. I think I may have ganked it from a corpse. Things have been more or less a stalemate for years. On a routine outing with some friends, we encountered a group of northerners, and we let them have it. There was this one black guy, down but not killed, right next to us. I blasted him in the head with a burst of ammo. No! he screamed, obviously in anguish but unable yet to die. Youve just hit the empty space! Oh yeah. I forgot. This time I aimed not for his forehead but for his mouth, and blasted away. This time he died. Thats the thing about us zombies. We all have an empty space in our brains. You cant kill us by shooting there. Later Im in a big auditorium with my pals, watching some stupid movies the officers put up for us. Im clutching my weapon the whole time, finger on the trigger, ready. Im watching the doors up front as much as Im watching the screen, probably more. You just cant be sure when one of them is going to walk in. Of course, thats the tricky partwe all pretty much look alike. We all just look like people. I hear something from the soldier whos running the projection booth. He says hell flash on and off if any of the enemy are detected. The lights you mean? No, he says, the video. Thats some reassurance. But Im still clutching my weapon. The girl that was sitting beside me leaves. Some dorky guy looks like he might want to sit down, but I put my bag on the bench, and he passes on. Another girl sits down. This ones plump, tan, made-up, exaggeratedly present. After a few moments, I decide she is attractive. I move slightly closer to her warmth.