"Give me a report. Are we under attack?" I asked sharply, reloading my weapons in preparation for what I assumed was another zombie stampede.
I had hoped they'd stay dormant during the day, but I suppose that would be too much peace for someone like me. The universe had a way of ensuring my life was anything but quiet.
"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. Sooner or later, we'll be surrounded."
"Zombies again? Don't tell me there are more giants like last night." My body felt somewhat rested, but my mind hadn't recovered from the last battle. I wasn't in the mood to be thrown around like a rag doll again.
"No, not this time. It's people. I'd say there's a ninety percent chance they're here to rob us. They look savage, and I doubt talking will work."
"People? Are anybody still out here? That's fantastic news.
"You're much too hopeful. Check it out for yourself by looking at the screen. No matter how far the drones I sent to survey the area get, all I see is deterioration and death. My AI partner, Ariella, displayed the live drone feed. My excitement faded as the bleak scenery flickered across the screen.
Ariella was correct; I had a terrible tendency to put too much trust in others. I couldn't remember how many times that flaw had gotten me into trouble. However, as I gazed at the television, my mind turned away from the aggressive humans and toward something much more eerie.
I went cold. The layout, the ruins, the terrain—all of it was uncannily similar. More than anything else, though, the dirt we had landed on chilled me to the bone.
"Wait a second! Launch a planetary scan right now!" I barked, my voice laced with urgency.
"When we entered the atmosphere, the planetary scanner was fixed to the outside of the ship. Ariella's response was stern but tinged with remorse: "It was burned upon entry." "The ship was in rough shape, and any remaining debris is now just shooting stars for the zombies."
"What about our seismic mapper?" I pushed.
"That would have been useful, but it was dropped along with the other modules that were no longer in use. You would have to travel thousands of kilometers to get there, but I have a general concept of where it is."
"Does anything on this ship still work?" I yelled, my anger exploding.
"Why are you yelling at me?" Ariella fired back. "The engine is still being repaired, and because we only have solar power, it will take days or even weeks. We save our meager power for emergencies and life support maintenance.
In an attempt to calm the growing terror, I inhaled deeply. "All right. Simply place the Earth's layout from fifty years ago on top of the geographic data you have collected."
Ariella hesitated. She already knew what I was about to discover but didn't have the heart to tell me. We had landed in one of the worst possible places if a zombie outbreak had ever occurred on Earth.
The readings came up, and I had to sit down to process the information. I had secretly sensed it throughout the combat last night—the extreme savagery of the zombies' attacks and their overwhelming numbers. However, I had held onto the notion that it was only a nightmare. Reality hit me square in the face now.
I mumbled, "You were right," "This timeline isn't ours. Somehow, we've been back in time, but the events don't align with the history of Earth. The strewn, blood-stained documents I discovered indicate that we are in the 2020s. This hellscape must have resulted from an unanticipated disaster for humanity.
Ariella didn't say anything, so I had to figure it out on my own.
I took a deep breath and went on. "What's the worst part? We touched down at the Mumbai Metropolitan Region, a seaside city close to the Indian Peninsula. There were more than 23 million people living there prior to the pandemic. How many of them were turned is unknown."
There was a sense of silence. The situation's weight became like a stone in my stomach.
"It gets worse the more I consider it. My skin crawls at the thought of millions of those creatures wandering the world. We lack the weaponry necessary to confront such an adversary. Additionally, there's a significant likelihood that other mutations exist."
I was not prone to panic, but this circumstance brought me perilously near to the brink.
Every writer's fantasy, as portrayed in novels and movies, was to survive amid a zombie apocalypse. However, the actual difficulties of living in such a nightmare were easily omitted from those tales.
First, the quality of the air. The ship's sophisticated filtering system had been providing me with clean air, but it wouldn't last forever. In addition to becoming infected, the overpowering smell of rot and death could cause me to gag on my own vomit and pass away if I went outside.
Then there was water. The ship had a high-end recycling system, built to sustain astronauts and deep-space miners for months, if not years. But even that had a limit. If I ran out, I'd have to find a fresh source. Given how long this apocalypse had been raging, most natural water sources were likely contaminated.
And let's not forget fuel. Most people didn't realize that gasoline and diesel had expiration dates. Even the most well-preserved fuel would last only two years before degrading. I needed a long-term solution.
Back on my Earth, I could have relied on a myriad of energy sources developed after Supreme Artificial Intelligence took over global advancements. But here? Here, I'd have to rely on old-school knowledge—maybe even build a power station from scratch. If I were to survive, I'd need more than just weapons. I'd need infrastructure.
I may need to establish a colony.
Ariella's words startled me out of my reverie before I could descend any more down that rabbit hole. "Hey? Hi there? Have you gone back to sleep? I instructed you to look at the screen.
I refocused and blinked. "All right. I'm searching.
My breath then caught in my throat.
Actual, living humans were engaged in combat with the zombies. They were flourishing, not simply getting by. I found their fighting to be nasty, effective, and devastatingly so. Their iron armor, which was hefty but apparently required for defense against the undead, was even more perplexing.
"You see that? Now look at this," Ariella instructed, shifting the drone's perspective.
A second group was seen approaching us from the periphery as the camera panned out.
I mumbled, "Wait… those aren't zombies."
"No, they aren't," Ariella said. "This time, you're not facing the undead. Your current issue is different."
She focused on the approaching figures. It was painfully obvious from their tattered attire, makeshift weaponry, and combative posture.
"We don't need the assistance of these people. Their goal is to steal whatever we own."
I exhaled slowly and tightened my hold on my weapon.
"Great," I whispered to myself. "Just what I needed."
It was one thing to live among zombies. People who are still alive? That nightmare was something else.