“Katana,” she whisperd to him in the cold dark building.
Of course they both new that this wasn’t her real name. Real names were left behind after the second stage of the virus broke out. To keep individuals safe, people went by the name of their weapon.
“Guns,” he whispered back to her.
A drop of water leaked from the ceiling and both of them moved into a battle stance.

Neither of them were embarressed by the overreaction.
In a world like theirs, it was better to be safe than sorry.

“You are the first person I’ve seen in a year,” she said, remembering to keep her voice down.
“Same here,” he replied.
“Do you have the date?” she asked.
He looked down to view his watch.
“It is,” he said looking back up towards Katana, “…shit.”
A mob of zombies had already eaten away at Katana’s flesh.
Guns turned to run away, but another pack of infected blocked his way.

It was December 31st 2011, when the last of the humans died.
It was January 1st 2012, when the new world of zombies began.