The end of the world is a lonely place.
I’ve wandered empty streets, squatted in abandoned apartments, and fled from the few who have survived the apocalypse. Men are as dangerous as the reanimated dead and will just as soon kill you as look at you. No one can be trusted.
Except for Big Bob. There is nothing like having a friend, a big friend, during the end of days.
*Big Bob is a short story. It is not a full-sized novel.*