I stepped into the mechanic's bay only to find it filled with slow-moving zombies. A large group crossed the road and milled about in the station's parking lot. Their wild feral growls echoed down the street and they dispersed heading toward different parts of the city. Looking past the flesh-eating zombie trying to come through the window, I saw them coming out of the graveyard in droves. I left my piece in my locker in the back," I said jumping to my feet. Reaching into the bottom desk drawer where I kept my Smith and Wesson 357 Magnum, with my heart beating the shit out of my ribcage, I almost dropped a load in my pants when I realized the gun wasn't there. Looking up, I stared into the cold dead eyes of a walking corpse. The front window to the office shattered, showering me with minute pieces of broken glass. Yeah right." A chill shot through me when I remembered the graveyard across the street. The military and police are on high alert and will respond to any 'zombie' outbreak." They are stressing that the population stay in their homes. One unconfirmed report states that a Venus probe falling back into Earth's atmosphere may have brought back some type of contamination from outer space. There are reports of similar incidents occurring across the county. There are reports of survivors hiding in a farmhouse on the outskirts of town. Several people are dead, but after they pass, they rise up and join the ranks of the undead. As strange as it may seem, they are saying that the dead are rising from their graves and attacking the population. We are getting reports from a small town in Iowa. "We interrupt this broadcast for a special news bulletin. Peterson's Dodge and was sitting in the office eating my lunch when the newscast came on the radio. I had just finished putting a new set of tires on Mr. Oh, I took a short detour to Vietnam in 1965 to do my patriotic bit, but when I came home, old Bud Hodgkin offered me my job back at the Glen Co station and I fell back into the life style, riding with the club and hanging with my bros. When I turned eighteen, I prospected into the club and I haven't looked back since. My pops bought me my first bike, a Triumph Bonneville 650, when I was sixteen, but I scrimped, saved, and a year later, I bought an old Pan Head. I grew up in the biker culture with my dad being one of the founding members of the Road Dogs, a local bike club here in Harlem Springs, Arizona that started in the early fifties. My name is John Brown, but my bros call me Cave Man. I was three years back from Vietnam, but all I cared about was drinking, hanging with my bros and riding my scooter. When the one-two punch came, the world went down for the count and the dead rose from their graves. War raged in Southeast Asia, civil unrest raged in the streets of America and the entire planet seemed to be holding its breath. The year was 1968, LBJ was president and the world was in turmoil.
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