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Part 1
Breakfast
You died last night. You woke up this morning. You're a zombie, but you can still think.
The bite on your arm has already dried shut. No pulse. No breath. Your watch can't find a heartbeat.
Then you hear one. Small and fast, coming from the kitchen. Lily, your little sister. She's ten.
On TV, the news anchor says it plainly: if someone you love has been bitten, they are already gone. Do not let them in. Your dad is watching. He's loading his shotgun.
A knock on your door. "Breakfast's ready!" You can smell her through the door. And you're hungry.
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