[alatar]

I'd fled Boston, having concluded my business there, and was happy to be quit of its four lane slightly-moving parking lots that look much like major highways, the life-filled crowds on the streets after dark and that *something* that was just missing from every lungful of air. All of this struck me as I drove home from my airport, cruising warily through the wasteland still called McKeesport. It was night (though day doesn't feel much different), and traffic was scattered as everyone was just passing through just like me, to leave the place as quickly as the red lights would allow - why these lights still exist, when there is rarely cross-traffic, I'll never know. I'd left the windows down, catching the scent that will always remind me of the place, a mix of tire-fire and that coppery taste you get from blood in the back of your throat. Ah, the path home.

No one - you might not understand this sentence as I write it - but no one was on the streets or sidewalks, not by the deserted three story bank building, not in the windows of the corner gas station, not even down some black cut between buildings. The city was dead.

It was hours before midnight.

You may find a 'bad part of town,' with a small crowd or two looking hungrily your way 'creepy.' What would you feel when you drive through a smaller city, down Main street, and it's empty, broken, decaying, silent, lifeless?

I wouldn't get out of my car, streets deserted or no.

But there are people there. I know this. I've seen them in the day, I read the police blotter about their actions at night. Thought about riding through some night with a special camera with infrared vision, which would help me see into the dark places. Better would be heat vision, where anything warmer than the street would be visible.

But what if something moved, yet had no heat signature?

That, I'd guess, would be a zombie. Living so close to Pittsburgh, we take our zombies seriously. Have a procedure at work for dealing with a zombie apocalypse (Hint: hire slower-moving coworkers). What's creepy about zombies is that, once, they were your neighbors, your friends, your coworkers, and now they're trying to eat you, and you have to separate the walking, staggering undead from their heads to get them to stop. Zombies were human once, but now are predators and you're the prey. Run bunny run! Zombies are relentless - once you're targeted, zombies will pursue you until destroyed or they find another target. You're never safe, as they have but one mission, which is to find a living meal. If you hole up somewhere 'safe,' you may find the next day you are surrounded by a moat of zombies, all moaning, all waiting for you or your defenses to fail.

And you start finding it hard to trust other non-zombies, as if a person is bitten, he/she will turn into a zombie, which you will have to destroy, and as everyone knows this, that this infection is just a misstep a way, no one volunteers any information about 'little scratches' which might be bite marks. One minute that helpful guy is sharing his food; the next he wants some of it back, and he'll get it himself mind you, even though you'd eaten it.

Zombies are a bit like Terminators, for those of you aware of the James Cameron movies of the same name. These are machine zombies, not as human (if at all), and so you don't hesitate taking one down. They too have only one goal, which is to find (usually a specific person) and assassinate you, not caring what collateral damage happens along the way. Terminators are differently difficult as they typically pack some firepower, are much more mobile, and are full of 'tricks' that are used to deceive the unwary. A Terminator may take on another's voice to making you think that the person is there, though it's only the machine-zombie lying in wait.

They employ other deceits, much like Bram Stoker's vampires do. First you think they're dead; the next moment they've arisen to draw your blood. You think you're safe as he's up there and your down here, and then you see Dracula climbing down the sheer wall, spider-like, and then you know that you're not safe at all.

They are coming for you.

...

And that's what the Nazgul are like, to me.