Brendan Flaherty

My name is Brendan Flaherty, I'm engaged to be married to the most beautiful and intelligent woman on Earth. She was so happy that morning on the New Year's Eve, to be transferring from Elizabethtown to Louisville, it was a big pay bump and a much better job.

She really wanted to snag that holiday pay, despite me asking to stay home, but she insisted, hoped to make a good impression. I get that. So, we agreed to have dinner together after her shift in the big city. I didn't want her to get out of bed, she was so warm and beautiful, I just wanted that morning to last forever. But if you know Angie, you know how she can be.

We had breakfast together, we made our favorite French Toast with bacon and cheddar, a glass of milk, a cup of coffee to go, I gave her a kiss, and off she went.

I made reservations to this fancy restaurant in Louisville, The Vincenzo, with enough advance to give her enough time to change and doll up, to celebrate the New Year and the New Job. I made the bed, went to the gym, took a shower, packed up a few more things for our big move, half of our condo was already packed into boxes. Then I went to wash the car and pick out some nice flowers for our date. Imagine my surprise when Missis Garfield from Flower Flourish tried to eat my face instead of showing me her new roses. I'm a fit guy, but I'm no Bruce Lee, my first instinct for some reason was to hit her in the throat with the edge of my cell phone. Living with Angie you learn to avoid touching things that look infected with your bare hands. Unfortunately, this buried my cell phone inside Missis Garfield's neck, then more infected came and I had to run before reclaiming it. And just like that, that evening, on the New Years, the world ended. All I had to go on was knowing she's north up the highway. It was a journey along the path of fear and violence. Eventually I happened upon a recorded message from West Point that Angie is safe and sound, looking for me, more over, that she was immune, and, I guess, so was I. With doubled vigor, I pressed on, until I finally traded most of my supplies for a high quality radio with a hermit trader. Now I can talk back. Now I can find my Angela. How do I plan to do that? I'm a marine geologist. Nothing will stand in my way.
I'm no Bruce Lee, but it's been a few months, and I'm real fucking close.