Never Enough Tomorrows: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel By Christopher Hugh Mills.

Prologue

Dr. Stephan Saunders watched the video again for the hundredth...no, the thousandth time. It had stopped making him sick to his stomach, but it was still horrifying. He froze it on the image of a man, or what had once been a man, biting into the shoulder of a screaming child of about eight or nine. The video had been taken on someone's phone. That phone had been confiscated along with all other's in the area.

The once-man had been put down by a Barney Fife type deputy, after Barney finally put a round in the things head. Damage to the brain was the only way to end them. A call had gone out and teams had been alerted and sent to the site. The locals were spoon fed some concocted story and the infected had been taken away.
The public were easily fooled because they wanted to believe everything was all right. They wanted their social media and their movie star gossip. The conspiracy theorists were out there but they were usually seen as whack jobs.

The child had been brought back to this very facility, had succumbed to his injuries and had reanimated. He was being studied but nothing new had been discovered.

This particular outbreak had occurred in a small town in Northern Illinois. One elderly man (the once-man) had died of a heart attack. A Good Samaritan attempted to resuscitate him, as said Good Samaritan lowered his ear to the dead man's chest to listen for a heart beat, the once-man sat up and bit a chunk out of his neck. Thus infecting the Good Samaritan, who bled out and died right there.

Luckily, the Good Samaritan didn't reanimate. The virus wasn't triggering in every dead body yet...yet being the operative word.

Dr. Stephan Saunders was a healthy middle aged man, but what he has been watching and learning about this world ending plight had added years to him. He stared at the screaming face of the child on the monitor and a chill went through his body.

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Dr. Saunders and several other scientists were sure that this danger was growing exponentially. It was quietly but quickly spreading to every man, woman and child.

The once-man had died of natural causes and had reanimated, the Good Samaritan had been bitten, had died but did not reanimate. The once-man proceeded to bite and infect three others, including the child.

All of the infected had been brought back to this facility. All three infected had succumbed to their injuries, no matter how big or small the bite, the bite was fatal.

Of the three infected, the child and one other, a middle aged man reanimated. Of the five victims, three had reanimated. Eventually, every person who died, from whatever cause, would reanimate.

Saunders and the other scientists gave the human race two, maybe two and half months. Then it truly would be survival of the fittest.

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There were underground facilities all over the country, all over the world in fact. They had been built secretly over several years by world governments for the preservation of the human race. There were people who knew what was coming, they just weren't sharing with everyone else.

Theories abounded about the virus, what it was and what it did were pretty much known factors. Where it came from was anybody's guess. It wasn't found anywhere in nature, not the air, not the water, not the ground. Not even in animals. Only inside man.

Dr. Saunders had a theory of his own. He had neither stated it nor had he written it down. Evolution had given mankind a Killswitch. Human's were on the doorstep of an extinction level event. Soon the earth would be covered with the undead.

Every man, woman and child on the surface would soon be fighting for their very survival. Civilization was going to be set back thousands and thousands of years.

Perhaps it could have been stopped, or at least slowed some years ago if the powers that be had chosen to be more open with the public about it. Secrecy had been the rule of the day, to prevent a panic. The panic hadn't started yet, but it was coming. By then it would be too late.

Dr. Saunders, as one of the lead scientists had secured himself, his wife and their two teen sons spots in the underground facility in Arizona. Tonight, before he went to bed he was going to call Karen and tell her to start getting there affairs in order. It was almost time.

He felt remorse for the billions who were not going to have the comfort nor the security of the underground facilities. Before long they were going to be praying for a quick death.