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Let's see…avoid everyone, the living and the undead. Stay inside and keep quiet. Zombies are attracted to noise. Maintain your health. A simple scratch can lead to infection. With no access to health care, even a typically benign injury could lead to death. Be wary of strangers and forget emotional decisions. Running outside of your secure house to save a child could lead to a confrontation with a zombie. Don't give in to guilt and humanity. Be jaded and paranoid."

Deter nods with a pensive stare. "Good speaking with you. I really hope you survive. I know that sounds flippant, but the next seventy-two hours are key to survival. We should keep in contact. LEGIT and other groups are working on a new method of long-distance communication for when all the common methods disappear. I voted to call it ApocCom, while a colleague gained support for SurvNet. We'll see. Anyway, best of luck, and remember, keep calm and kill zombies."

The connection terminates, and you decide to…

Just then, your eyes catch movement through space in the boards covering the front window, and you peer outside. A slender figure hobbles across your back field, a man dressed in overalls and work boots. His arms hang by his side but bow outward, and his legs twitch as they take each step. When he turns toward the front of the house, you see the real signs of infection: the yellow skin, the green marks, the fogged-over eyes with dark pupils flitting around like goldfish in a cloudy bowl. Brown strands of drool waver from his mouth to his chin. And for some reason, whether coincidence or a hidden sense, he looks at your front door as if he knows something lives behind it. He climbs the stairs and stops at the front door, eyes fixed forward and head tilted to the side.