You duck behind the remains of a burnt out car. Screams grow as people tear in your direction, their shrieks fading as they run into buildings and into the horizon, away from one scene of death into another.
Not all the screams are accompanied by running though. Not far from your position the screaming is interspersed with wild growling, like that of a pack of feral dogs on the hunt.
You lift your head to peek over the hood of the car. It's a gruesome sight. Those who couldn't move fast enough have become food for what you can only imagine are what the media yesterday reported on as being "zombies".
You must do something to help that poor person being cornered!
You glance around, your eyes not accustomed to searching for makeshift weapons, and see a new broom through the window of the car you took cover behind; the remains of a shopping trip interrupted by something more important: a global apocalyptic catastrophe.
You feel the car door's handle. It's open. It's probably not that important to lock your car when a zombie is chomping at your heels.
You lift the door handle and slowly pull the door towards you, careful to not disturb the three zombies moving in on their lunch.
You keep a constant eye on them while reaching for the broom.
Then it happens. The three monstrosities pounce their victim, who yelps like a wounded dog when he gets dragged down. The zombies hunch over the man like three ancient tribesmen, tearing and ripping and chewing on their latest catch. The man's screaming dies down to muffled moans. Perhaps you can still miraculously save him.
Then, silence. The only sound you hear is that of the zombies feasting like hyenas.
There's no point in trying to be a hero anymore. The screaming's stopped; the man's dead. In a way you're relieved; for him and for yourself.
You turn to ready yourself for a jolt down the street. Although the zombies move fast, you might be able to outrun them. Besides, their attention is elsewhere for the moment.
As you turn your eye catches a little face halfway hiding behind two hands desperately trying to keep a mouth from uttering shrieks.
It's a little girl sitting on her haunches behind another abandoned car and she's frozen with fright. She'll only escape becoming dinner if you help her!
You screw the head of the broom off the handle to make... something; a zombie fighting stick? You've never been to a self-defense-against-zombies class. How would you know if it'll work? But it's all you've got!
You take a deep breath and start crawling towards where the girl is crouching when a shrill alarm starts shouting from your pocket. It's your weekly reminder to phone your mom!
Three heads lift in unison and shoot bloodshot eyes towards where you're a sitting duck. Then they gradually get up, slowly move towards you, then start a sprint.
You stand up, take hold of the broomstick with both hands and point it towards the three raging beasts.
The first one jumps onto you, grabs the stick, snaps it in half and throws you to the ground, impaling both sticks into your chest. The other two pounce on you and start gripping and biting at your arms, your legs, your neck, everywhere. You've become human sashimi.
In your last moments you see the girl sneaking away into a building and you think to yourself: "a broom. A freaking broom. What was I thinking?"
You don't have to die a loser!
With the unbelievably stylish and highly practical MKT Praetorian Ti you can go out fighting like a Roman soldier and at least look cool when they come across what's left of your remains once they start cleaning up after the global disaster.
This machine of a knife is made from the type of space age materials aliens would want to invade us over. If aliens existed. They don't, but if they did.
The Praetorian Ti, which requires a large pocket if you're to lug it around like a pocket knife, you know, for post-apocalyptic emergencies, is fat, heavy and just looking at it makes you hope for some kind of global zombie-producing catastrophe so you can use it to scalp zombies or stab haphazardly into an attacking horde, slicing and dicing your way to a glorious death.
This particular version of the knife comes with a blade made from 3V, which is the equivalent of using a scale from the Leviathan referenced in the book of Job.
These knives are sent to the edge of earth where their handles are dipped in a bowl filled with the sacred sweat of the Taaisian elves, while the blade is sharpened on the fresh teeth of a Zinzi dwarf toddler.
The Ti comes with a 1/4 inch thick blade, which means it can double as an anvil, while the total thickness allows it to double as a four-lane highway for trucks.
This knife is unlike anything ever created this side of Saturn. They've still got the creator, Greg Medford, locked up for observation, since what comes out of his factory defies human logic.
For the ultimate in zombie-fighting coolness, get the MKT Praetorian Ti. If you use it as an EDC, you'll die with your best friend on you.