Zombie Nation 01

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The world was changed; twenty three years ago it thrashed about in a bloody fervor all but dying as close eighty percent of the world’s population was eaten by the hungry undead. Parts of the world were completely obliterated. If there were any living left in Asia, they were well hidden in the most remote parts of the continent. Other areas were relatively unscathed, the United Kingdom put down the threat to its existence before it began, New Zealand was untouched. Africa had fought off the worst of the plague on humanity and was recovering under the guidance of a dozen new dictators. Australia’s rise to fascist isolationism had saved its people, but left them subjected to an almost dehumanizing lack of freedom, leaving some to ponder if it would have been kinder to let the zombies win. South America was a mixed bag of zombie-human misery. Some enclaves existed, and none were pleasant, but life did go on.

North America had lost its borders and become a battlefield for the supernatural forces there. On the west coast a new nation had arisen, run by zombies and founded on the ideals of blood. Through blood all could be saved and all sacrifices could result in everlasting life.

The Zombie Nation was founded by one of the three original zombies sent to spread the plague in that region. He put a stop to the wanton killing and started capturing and protecting the living, stressing their value as a resource that needed to be preserved. The man had the ability to do this because all zombies had a hierarchical structure with the older ancestors in their bloodline able to exert a profound control upon their more newly made descendants.

The politics of the region were still convoluted and difficult to manage, there was only one surviving ‘founder’ left in Zombie Nation and his control over the other bloodlines was by no means absolute. Sherman Jimmy Baker was born and raised in north Florida and had the misfortune of being killed and sent to California to create as many zombies as he could. He was implementing the plans given to him by his creator, Doctor Thomas Sentry, when something wonderful happened. Someone killed Doctor Sentry, thereby freeing Sherman.

It took Sherman six months to stop the killing, by then the living population of California was slightly less than eight millions people, more than a few who were veteran zombie fighters. Creating the peace had required driving off or killing those who wanted to fight, something Sherman had hoped to avoid, but the new world vision he had would not allow dissidents.

People, living people, were given limited rights and the promise of immortality. Society, used to having the right to do what they wanted, when they wanted to, rebelled. A series of bloody uprisings led to stricter controls until the living were pressed down to the ground with the zombies heels upon their necks. Sherman didn’t relent; as the old adage went ‘You can’t make a cake without breaking eggs’, or, as the kids said these days, ‘You can’t make a super without blood.’

 Supers were being made in mass quantities these days. With the suspension of birth control, the abolishment of marriage and the mandatory requirement of three children per woman, minimum, before she could be ‘turned’ the population had steadily risen from a low of five million after the uprisings were quelled to just less than fourteen million.

There was blood for all now; blood donations were required for all those over fifteen years of age who were not pregnant. The blood was used to uplift the less intelligent zombies and to make those who were powerful even more so. Sherman, being at the top of the pyramid was as close to an immortal as any zombie could hope to get. After twenty two years of power Sherman stepped down, relinquishing his head of state title and retiring. Of course, as the most elder of his line of zombies everyone questioned how much he was really retired and whether he would re-appear if the new nation were to suffer a calamity of some sort. 

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