Once upon a time, amidst the rubble of an old citadel a man kept vigil for zombies. He was one of the elite, who managed to survive. A few months ago, on a cold October day, a meteorite had struck the Earth. A small creature emerged from the burning rock. It slowly began moving towards the nearby town. A man was chopping firewood for the winter. The creature crept behind him and lunged onto his neck and turned the man into a zombie. Over time the zombie and the creature turned everyone in the town to a zombie. Eventually most of the planet was filled with zombies.
The survivor was lucky to be alive. His longevity was enabled by his grapple which helped him escape when he encountered the zombies. The area he had just fled was bountiful with zombies, but devoid of safe places where he could rest.
It was a good thing the zombies were so laggard, or else he would have never of escaped. Little did he know that his prodigious journey was just beginning.
His canteen was becoming hollow so he veered onto a new path in search of water. The foliage was thick and dense so he had to walk slowly. He did not hear any noises for a long time. Then he began to hear a soft trickling of water. He looked down and saw a very thin trail of water flowing eastward. He followed the water and slowly it began to widen. Within twenty minutes he could not even reach the other side. Suddenly he broke through thick green foliage and came into a clearing. In the clearing was a natural spring with pure, clean water. He took long gulps and gingerly began filling his canteen. Then he began the trek back to his shelter.
He had a hard time getting back to camp. The foliage kept him from seeing anything more than five feet in front of him but the stream helped him. He was trying to remember when he saw the stream when something knocked him down. He looked up and it was a large zombie. He kicked its legs and it fell down, then he ran blindly into the trees. He came upon a path he knew and followed it back to his shelter. Then he began to pack his belongings.
He had noticed lately that the forest was becoming congested with zombies. This was a major detriment because it made it much harder to get food. One day he was searching for food when he noticed a bonanza of movement to the left. Upon closer inspection he discovered that it was a very large amount of zombies. He had never seen so many zombies in one place. He was confused as to which way to go but he knew he could not stay here. He skittishly set off in the opposite direction of the zombies. He ran until could not run anymore and then he looked behind him. The forest was barely visible and he was now surrounded by short shrubs and grass. He was very tired began walking with his head down.
When he finally looked up a vast ocean was in front of him. It was bright blue and very rough. There were no zombies in sight. On the edge of the horizon he saw a small dot; he knew this island was his only chance. He looked around and spotted a durable oar boat washed up on the sand and looked at it. It looked like it would last him until he got to the island. He slept in the oar boat that night. The next morning he caught a fish, ate it, began preparing for his voyage. When he was finally ready, he pushed the boat into the water and jumped into it. He began rowing towards the island. It took him a long time but he eventually made it. When he got near it, he jumped out and pulled the boat high upon the sand. The island was full of life; there were birds in the trees, coconut trees, schools of fish in the water, and a cave with a spring inside of it. He could easily live here and the zombies could not swim, he was finally safe.