Prologue

In the beginning, insensible rumors whispered amidst the internet, some gif’s with stooges lurching about somewhere, in some third world country, far from here, overseas.  While the people up North in D.C. felt it in the best interest of the public to debunk what they saw as some sort of “cyber social terrorism” or such, weren’t no such thing like that going on ’round here, in Appalachia.  When the D.E.A., I.N.S. and the rest of the alphabet soup gang quarantined the borders blaming it on the escalating war on terrorism, no one around these parts made much of it, none of us had plans of going to any of those places anyway.  

The young folk christened it the Resurrection Plague and the name just stuck. Soon word got out it’d started to crop up in the big cities here, in America.  As for Uncle Sam trying to keep it off the internet, all them young unemployed nerds still living in their parent’s basements took that as a right fine challenge, and before too long, those monstrous clips were blazoned over any wavelength or bandwidth that would carry them.  First came the zombies, then came the army, and if all that came to your town, not so much of anything was heard coming out.

Really it made no never mind how it all got started, some blamed the Devil while others said it was the Lord’s judgement.  Most folk here just chalked it up to the yankees and said it’s liken to  the  war of Northern Aggression all over again.   In this part of Dixie, we hunkered down to ride out the storm holed up in the hollows, like our kinfolk before us.

While the rest of the world burned, we handled a flair up or two, but we’re a practical folk, I reckon that’s how we made it.  While humanity done gone burned itself out, not here.  Here, the mists from the Smokies still breathed life into her mad, stubborn children.

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