I don´t know what happened.

I don´t think any of us - few though we may be -

really knows for sure... so we just keep running,

and hiding.

Seeking refuge.

I don´t know what happened,

but as always there are rumours.

A military experiment gone wrong.

Radioactive fallout.

A meteorite.

An alien.

A mutated virus.

When push comes to shove,

it don´t actually matter what caused it.

Somewhere in the West, they say, somewhere in the West

the dead first started coming back to life

In the very beginning those who witnessed it thought it was all part of an elaborate hoax, a practical joke from someone with a seriously twisted sense of humour.

But alas, that was too simple an answer.

The dead were coming back to a dreadful resemblance of life,

and that was it, really.

The dead walked the Earth,

and if they saw you, they attacked.

They attacked with a fury and a hunger to make the most ravenous of gluttons pale in comparison.

The dead walked, and the rest of us had but one thing to do;

We had to run.

Carry what we needed the most,and run.

At the time we didn´t know where to go,

we only knew what we were running from,

and that alone was enough to put fear into the bravest of hearts,

and pain into the strongest of souls.

We spent years running.

Running, and seeking refuge.