"Hrm, that bad, huh?"

Poppa Rock watched news of the infestation on his black-and-white television set. He had been following the story for quite some time. Partly because the pretty blonde news anchor had such a way of telling the story, but mostly because the story could directly impact him and his operation.

"The 'Zombie Assault' continues today, as thousands of recently deceased victims of the virus rise after falling and attack the living. Niles Karver reporting,"

A young man with brown hair and prominent chin came on, standing in a Baton Rouge street amid National Guardsmen and para-military forces. He spoke officiously in a fake british accent. "Yes, Clara. We've made a barricade here in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The zombies numbers seem to be growing, despite heavy fire fromconcerted attacks by locals and armed forces. While many are slow and shambling, are large number are fatser, capable of running and even jumping long distances. These we've termed the 'leaders'. If you look behind me--" he stopped to gesture to a ragtag line of men, some in civialian wear and some in fatigues, kneeling behind a makeshift wall of cars, stalls, and other miscellany, "-- you'll see our first line of defense preparing to--oh, God! They're here!"

The camera panned over, revealing a surging mass of what once might have been humanity. They pushed forward at a crawling pace; though it was clear that some were eager to move faster, they were unwilling to leave the relative safety of the herd. When the mass moved closer, close enough to incur fire from the line of defenders, one could see that they were very much dead. Some had open wounds, some were missing pieces of their faces or an appendage, but all wore expressions of feral hunger on their long dead rictus's. The observant viewer would note that the quicker ones, the ones that o longer held back but ran with full force at the quickly-assembled wall, were only freshly made. They died recently.

"Holy shit!" squawked Niles. "Umm, if you watch closely, you'll note that these zombies have disregarded their weapons in favor of fighting tooth and claw. Hehe," he paused to chuckle nervously. The defenders appeared to be winning, mowing down many of the zombies before they got within a hundred paces of the wall. One of the 'leaders', a creature wearing the ripped vestiges of a bartenders vest, miraculously avoided the hail of gunfire and leaped into the midst of his aggressors. He landed square on a black youth dressed in 'urban uniform', baggy pants and tee-shirt three sizes too big, and proceeded to tear a chunk from his throat before the youth could even scream. Two nearby men, both inthe uniform of national guardsmen, turned their guns on the zombie leader and his victim, reducing both their skulls and brains to goo. Niles shrieked during the whole incident. When the camera turned back to him, it caught him in the process of checking his drawers and openly weeping.

"Err, casualty of war, Clara." he piped in a nervous screech, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism after having decided that he had indeed shat himself. "One must expect these in times of crisis. Now, the whole thing started, as we all recall, some two weeks ago when the nuclear plant near in Waterford exploded unexpectedly. It covered the entire region, including the entirety of New Orleans, in a cloud of nuclear gas. It was some time before a fallout team could get in to check the damage. When they finally did, they discovered the region to be full of these horrors" He paused, to look back at the line behind him, with it's ever-encroaching line of doom moving closer. "With these teams lost to the infestation, the zombies quickly massed and began to attck, in concert, the outlying counties. We were unprepared, and the towns were lost, but now we've gained the advantage of cohesion. We can--oh, shit!"

The line of defenders had fallen back during his recitation, and the zombie line had moved dangerously closed, any defender who paused to reload his ammunition was fallen upon by an undead abomination. Most had simply taken to their heels, an inclination Niles Karver was quick to second. "C'mon, Chad!" he hissed at the camera as he spun and started running. The camera jogged behind hem, but soon jerked sporadically, and finally slipped from Chad the cameraman's hands entirely. This was because Chad stumbled and fell. He scrabbled to regain his feet, but was set on by a score of groaning monsters. The scene cut mid-scream; back to the anchor room, and the unbelieving agpe of pretty, blonde Clara.

"Uh, we're live, covering the developing story of zombies in Baton Rouge. If you're just joinging us--"

Poppa Rock turned off the t.v., he knew enough of the story as it was. "Hrm,that bad, huh?" He got up from his rickety chair in the tool-shed sized latrine, and purposefully strode out to his keep, his plantation, te scene of his last stand.

Poppa Rock looked out upon his zombies.