In the Christian Holy Bible, the Lord God Almighty promised Noah that he would never again destroy the world by flood. Most writers in the twentieth century believed that fire; thermonuclear fire or the raining fire of a comet, meteor, or asteroid strike would destroy the world. Like many intellectuals of the late twentieth century they thought the choices were man or nature, having left God completely out of the picture. Eighteen months ago, the world as we know it finally came to an end. But not by flood or by fire, instead it ended in a torrent of hunger and blood. Perhaps it was all God's fitting vengeance. The dead rose and hungered for the flesh of the living.

Within days all the big cities had fallen - New York, Los Angeles, Paris, London, Tokyo, and Moscow. Small enclaves tried to fortify and hold out in the big cities but decades of ill-advised nanny state politics like gun control and enforced victimization made that a hopeless cause in many places, people had neither the will nor the tools to defend themselves. Communities outside of the cities fortified and still remain. Especially in America's South and the Mid-West where self-reliance was a tradition, these small enclaves offered safe shelter to those who survived and could contribute.

When the dead rose, I was in New York City on business. Some other survivors and I managed to get outside the city, moving during the day, holing up at night, fighting when we had too. Being born and raised in the South, I started traveling in that direction. By that time the small band of survivors had started looking to me as their leader and so they went with me. The eight-month trip from New York City to Charlotte, North Carolina was harrowing. We collected some additional survivors, but many were lost, even though we avoided towns when possible.

Somewhere along the line, we gained a reputation, a purpose, a home, and became known as the Travelers. This is our story.