Apocalypse Rebirth: Under The Mad Dog's Protection
Five years of surviving that living hell had left me scarred, hardened, and desperate to avoid repeating the nightmare.
Yet here they were, reacting to the apocalypse like kids being promised a trip to an amusement park. It was a bizarre, surreal realization: even though I was a time-traveling survivor with a system running in my head, I was somehow the most sane person in this room.
I swallowed the dry lump in my throat, holding his manic, bloodthirsty gaze, and opened my mouth to speak.
"Zombies," I said, my voice deadpan and chillingly serious. "It's going to be a zombie apocalypse."