"Commence bombardment," said the task force commander. Just like that, Project Wipeout began. Captain Jason Miller and the other U.S. Airforce pilots acknowledged the order and then began bombing New York City. First, they took out each of the twenty-one bridges connecting Manhattan to the mainland and then they destroyed the rest of New York City. The zombie outbreak had to be stopped at all costs. Better NYC fall than the rest of America and the world. Sacrifice eleven million lives to save almost eight billion. Sounds like a fair deal, right?
"Oh fuck," said Rahim Ahmed as the first bomb dropped on the bridge. The six-foot-tall, dark-skinned young Somali Muslim man had been a mere twenty feet away from the mainland when disaster struck. Behind Rahim, a bunch of people were running and behind them, millions of zombies were coming. Running as fast as his legs could carry him, Rahim hit the ground moments before all hell broke loose. The bridge evaporated with a fantastic sound. One akin to the world ending. A massive chasm opened right where Rahim had been, mere moments ago.
"Come on," Fariha Osman shouted, and the tall, plump young Djiboutian Muslim woman grabbed Rahim's hand. Rahim nodded and got to his feet. Fariha nodded at him and took off. Rahim followed her, but not before taking one last look at the chasm where the bridge had been. The Island of Manhattan was now cut off from the rest of New York City. The young couple fled, ignoring the sound of cement and fire hitting the waters. All things considered, Rahim wished he hadn't left Mogadishu for NYC sixteen months ago. The zombie apocalypse has royally fucked up Rahim's shot at the American Dream.
The zombies swarmed over Manhattan, and wherever they went, they devoured the living. The wealthy and the poor, blacks and whites, men and women, none were spared. The Undead did not feed on cats and dogs, preferring the meat of Homo Sapiens. This was something which the world's scientists always puzzled over. The zombies ignored animals just like they ignored plants, preferring to hunt humans. Nobody could explain that one.
Rahim and Fariha ran through the streets of New York City, and there were millions of other people doing the same. The world's most populated city had been abandoned to the Undead. The U.S. military troops that had been battling the zombies suddenly left, their tanks and helicopters and warships deserting NYC. After the military troops abandoned the city, the U.S. Airforce warplanes came and destroyed it. America was staring down the zombie apocalypse and the zombie apocalypse didn't blink. The U.S. Government chose to sacrifice NYC to save the rest of the country. How about that?
"We need to get off the streets," Rahim said to Fariha. Nodding, Fariha pointed to a building in the distance. The sign read Hassan's Convenience Store. Rahim followed Fariha there, and it proved to be a fortuitous decision. Exhausted, the young Somali couple took refuge in a grocery store. The owner was long gone. After running for what seemed like forever, Rahim and Fariha rested. With his baseball bat in hand, Rahim took a look around the grocery store. Sure, the owner was gone but there were other things to worry about. Thankfully, the place was zombie free.
"We cannot stay here long," Fariha said, and she helped herself to a water bottle from a nearby vitrine. Rahim took a can of Pepsi from the vitrine and drank it. That turned out to be a bad idea. Rahim looked at Fariha, who frowned. Excusing himself, Rahim went to the bathroom at the end of the hall. After making sure that it was zombie free, Rahim went inside. Moments later, the young Somali man took the dump of the century. Running from zombies and explosions can really affect a brother's gut.
Ten minutes later, Rahim came back and looked for Fariha. The young woman was gone. Rahim looked for her in the grocery store aisles and even looked into the women's bathroom but couldn't find her. It wasn't like Fariha to just take off. Rahim chanced a peep outside and saw...them. A horde of zombies. There were dozens of them. Rahim hastily shut the grocery store's front door and ducked behind the cash register counter. Lying flat against the tiled floor, Rahim prayed that the damn zombies didn't try to come inside.
As Rahim took a dump in the men's washroom, Fariha looked around the store. There was plenty of food there, along with water and other beverages. There was cash in the register too. Where was the owner? Why would he or she leave such goods around? Fariha went to look at the loading dock behind the store. There was a red Pickup truck there, with the keys in the ignition.