Chapter 3

Most of us that had survived the first wave of sex-crazed zombies and then the second wave with the females of the species neutralizing the human male sperm and reducing the ranks of the human race to more manageable ratios didn’t have a clue of what was in store for the last and final spurt of zombie destruction that laid waste to our urban areas and devastated our farm production to the point that starvation was our final tribulation in the war against the insidious forces of evil.

We had made short work of the perpetrators of the second wave of terror using the popular diesel pits to eliminate the problem of terminal elimination without much damage to the landscape. We could usually get four or five hundred of the zombies into an average sized pit, incinerate them and then cover up the thing with a couple of truckloads of reclaimed land soil. There were circles of those tell-tale bands around most urban areas by the time the effort to win back our territory concluded.

Unfortunately, the demon seed of the zombie assault was residing inside of a number of us with normal exterior appearances. Sometimes, I looked in the mirror and even suspected myself of being one of the enemy and I was so totally confused that I took not just one but two DNA tests to confirm I was zombie-free. Because the female zombie dangers were still rampant in the third world countries and even the poverty stricken areas of the industrialized nations, I refused to have genital sex with any other female at all and would only allow the males to give it to me in my backside where I knew there were no dangers. The change of lifestyle had me bending over for guys I normally wouldn’t give a second look at but beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to steady need for carnal relations.

The total planetary population had been reduced by more than half since the zombie horde had descended on Earth with the vengeance of biblical proportions sweeping into densely populated areas like a swarm of deadly locusts. Some locations were worse hit than others but generally, the destruction was in every region that had a human populace.

Then, the unthinkable happened and a new virus spread from chicken farms in Asia hit the entire world with the speed of a bullet. Entire small villages and farms were immediately wiped out from the oldest seniors to the infant children. Other regions suffered unheard of casualties of seventy to eighty percent in the first forty-eight hours. The follow-on starvation and dirty water problems only added to the misery and the world was now back in the Dark Ages in terms of simple demographics after that final blow to the mortality rates.

That following winter was a bleak time for humanity.

The continents of Africa and Asia were hardest hit simply because they had the densest populations. The entire world was on hold waiting to see what calamity would come next.

It came in a way that nobody expected.

It came from within as the zombie hordes activated their sleeper units and slowly whittled down the shrinking vestiges of the human race. This time the hybrid zombies were interested in keeping healthy humans as breeder stock for their labor needs. No more brain-eating foolishness or frenzied sex to confuse the issue. Those with the energy and the means got as far away from civilization as possible because that was the umbilical cord that was the new style “Judas Goat” for the last traces of humanity still in existence on the planet. Getting off the grid was the only salvation for survival and continuation of the species.

My name is Grace Moneypenny and I hereby tender my resignation from the anti-zombie service and will strike out on my own to do my best to propagate the human race. I am taking two males with me that have already proven virile in seeding females and if one fails; the other should be the insurance we need to start a family. Hopefully, the new extended life DNA patterns of an average life span of seven score years will enable me to start the new cycle off with a bang.

My estimate projected a multi-generational settlement of twenty-plus souls before I move into non-nubile age category. I extrapolated that out to be a few hundred before the end of two full centuries.

My favorite male breeder was a soldier boy called Mark with an average sized tool of creation but he was one of those rare male animals that gave more than he took and he showed proper respect when the deed was done. He had successfully seeded me twice before but both offspring were cut down by the Asian chicken virus that moved so fast, no response was possible.

The other male breeder was a young boy called Hannibal.

He was just barely eighteen and not overly intelligent. I picked him because he had plentiful reserves of sperm for the long haul and was a good twenty years younger than the military-minded Mark.

In that first month in the cabin, I alternated between them for the entire period and I knew with positive confidence that I would be having a newborn in early October. I didn’t know which of them the father was, but it really didn’t matter. It would be the norm from now on out, because it was wise to insure the initial insemination was a success in each birthing cycle just in case the celebrating zombie hordes discovered our encampment on the edge of the wasteland.

Hopefully, our little unit was multiplied by hundreds or even thousands of others and we would be able to mount a counterattack on the zombie labor camps that supervised untold numbers of enslaved captured humans supplying raw labor for their mining and tree stripping operations. We had no idea why they insisted on grinding all those millions of trees down into tiny little chips and taking them off our planet to some unknown destination. At the rate they were working, our planet would be treeless just like the moon in less than a century more.