We return to the station, Lenny marching in the lead and me limping behind. Lenny throws a giant beef stick at me and hollers, "Eat up Eric. Yer gonna need yer protein." I tear open the plastic wrapping on the giant Oberto stick with my teeth and start chewing on the beef. It is satisfying, but the salt dries my mouth. I grab a lukewarm orange soda to wash down the salty beef. When I take a gulp of soda, the orange and beef flavors mixes. It’s perfection. As soon as I find my metal chair, I collapse into it and sigh with relief. My body aches at every joint, but I feel the satisfaction of a completing day two of zombie training.

Once I finish my snack/lunch, I find my Game Boy and kick started Pokémon. I've collected the first three gym badges, and my cute little Torchic has evolved into a not-so-cute but tougher looking Combusken. I have also caught a Taillow (Bird Pokémon) and a Seedot (a real lame looking acorn-like Pokémon). I choose the Taillow because I like birds, and the Seedot because it was so pathetic looking that it had to evolve to something awesome. It's funny how it works, the developers usually the choose the smallest, wimpiest little creatures to evolve into the most epic Pokémon.

While I play Game Boy, Lenny is diving into a new book. This one is called, "The Color of Water.” Huh, I would never guess that Lenny is the reading type. I would have pegged him as the kind of guy who threw rocks at trees in his spare time.

"Lenny, where do you get all those books?" I ask.

"I had tons of em' in my house, but I had to leave ‘em all. But when I see a interestin' lookin' one durin' a raid, I just take it. I got me four other books in the truck that I'm lookin' to read after I done with this one. Ain't nothin' better than a good read." Lenny replies with a slight smile on his face.

After I get tired of Pokémon, I decide it would be a good idea to log all the information we have on zombies. I scavenge a pen and a fifty page spiral notebook, and title it Zombie Guide 101. I head sections for behavior, diet, habitat, and history. Under behavior, I write down Will attack on sight - Appear to be attracted to loud sounds such as gun shots - Do not appear to feel pain or fear - Extremely violent

I hadn't been around zombies long enough to really know much more. I decided to check what Lenny knew.

"Hey Lenny, what do you know about zombies. Specifically their behavior, habitat, diet, and history."

Lenny looks up from his book. " Behavior? You know as well as I do Eric, they are bout as mean as you can get. Diet? Shoot, I dunno. Think they'll eat anything, but they seem to go fer raw flesh over cooked food. Habitat? I mean, they seem to live just 'bout anywhere. What was the last one again?"

"History." I repeat

Lenny chuckles "Well, they came 'bout two months ago, around early April. I wish I could tell ya what caused it, but nobody knows. I was thinkin' it was scientists. I don’t trust them scientists.”

I record the history -The cause of the Zombie plague is unknown; however, it seems to have started in early April 2012. So far, my book wasn't exactly a wealth of knowledge, but it feels satisfying to have some information down. On the front of the notebook, I sketch a picture of Lenny taking a zombie’s head off with Zombie Smasher Extreme 5000. It’s a fairly childish drawing, but it gets the job done.

I munch on granola bars and Skittles for dinner. Lenny is busy emptying our supply of Payday bars. As I eat, I try to visualize how I’m going to survive Z90X. Naturally, my mind wanders towards video-games. I likened Z90X to Skyrim. I could be training my destruction magic or something. Just instead of blasting skeletons, I’m doing pull-ups. Or I could be a Pokémon, and Lenny was my Poke trainer. I’m just like a character trying to grow some levels.

With that epiphany, I decide to call it a day. I roll up in my scratchy blanket and set my head on the pile of Budweiser T shirts. Even though I’m exhausted, it takes me a while to sleep. Sometime this happens to me, my hyperactive mind will simply refuse to turn off. Brain wandering aimlessly, I revisit the horrific scene at the hospital, think hopelessly about old high school crushes, despair about my lost family, before finally being caught in the peaceful hands of sleep.

For the next two months, I take Z90X seriously, and it pays off. By the end of the program, I’m doing five sets of thirty pushups and twelve pull-ups. Of course, as Lenny made sure, all of my reps demonstrated proper form. I can hang with Lenny for most of his stomach exercise, only taking a couple breaks at the really tough parts. Wrestling Lenny is still pretty hopeless. I’m a bit quicker than him, but he is ridiculously strong. Despite my hardest efforts, Lenny pins me multiple times every session. I still try my best to wear him down, and after our bouts we would both fall over breathless.

As for the other exercises, I improved just as rapidly. With the jump rope I could challenge Lenny, using my cardio and light-weight as an advantage. Lenny hung with me, but I could tell he was struggling at some points. Handstands were still pretty tricky, but my coordination improved to the point where I could hold one nearly half as long as Lenny could. Handstands were an unorthodox way to exercise, but they trained strength and balance at the same time. I have to say that Lenny was on the something.

The balancing log continues to be difficult, but I was slowly becoming more sure on my feet. If I proceed very carefully, then I can generally cross the log without falling.

I'm sure I made slight improvements in wind-sprints, but it was Lenny who made the real gains. By the end of the month he could stick with me for almost half of workout. With his broad chest and massive arms, Lenny was not built like a distance runner. I have to say, Lenny had developed impressive cardio.

The brick wall became my nemesis. For the first two weeks, I tried over and over again to grip those impossibly small hand-holds, but to no avail. After countless attempts, the ends of my fingers became raw and even blistered. Frustrated and worn out, I was forced to quit. Sometime during the third week, I clasped with all my might and to my amazement I managed to grip the wall. I latched onto the brick for my dear life; only managing to hang on for about half a second. I fell the ground in joy. Fist pumping, I was stoked to have improved to some degree. Over time the tips of my fingers hardened and I could hang on slightly longer. Despite my minor victories, I was still unable to scale the wall in any fashion.

Next thing you know Lenny and I are tearing down the highway, blasting "Toxic". I roll up the windows, terrified that the loud music might attract zombies. Lenny doesn’t seem too concerned. "Let 'em come out of the woods. I ain't scared." We are on our way to Charleston for our first raid.

My stomach is tingling with nervous excitement. On one hand, I’m pretty terrified of zombies, but it also feels awesome to finally get away from the station. For the umpteenth time, I check the gear Lenny gave me. On my right hip is a machete, ready for zombie action. I glance at the pistol on my left hip. Hopefully I won’t have to resort to that. In my carefully stocked backpack is a coiled rope, throwing rocks, emergency food, and medical supplies. I wish I had some sort of zombie armor, but I just grabbed my eagle T-Shirt and jeans. I briefly considered wearing a jacket for additional protection, but it was mid-summer, and figured I would burn up in even a light jacket. Some durable zombie-armor would be pretty sweet, but I was not quite sure how I would even start such a project.

Save for his pale yellow construction helmet, Lenny is dressed similar to me, in a camo T-shirt and jeans. There is a slight smile on his face, like he is in his zombie-killing happy place. Lenny's eyes are giant orbs of peaceful green meadows. I find myself wondering how he can be so calm, as we are headed towards a zombie infested city at 60 miles per hour. We might die here. But Lenny is just grinning, his ragged red hair streaming in the wind as he cranks up Britney Spears.

We drive to the outskirts of the city and Lenny whips out his map, tracing a route with his fingers. "Alright Eric, we's goin' to 8, but them streets are blocked with debris, so I'll park the truck right here." Lenny says as he points to his hand drawn map. I just hope Lenny knows what he is doing.

Lenny hops out of the truck, and I slide out of the passengers side. I hear laughing, and I see Lenny draw a can of Monster from the bed of his truck. It's a Monster Assault, judging from the color of the can it's cherry flavor. "Want a can?" Lenny asks. "I always have extras." he adds with a wink.

"Nah man, the last thing I want to do is be loopy when I'm trying to scrap." I reply, not wanting to try anything crazy. Lenny chuckles and drains his can. With a burp, he tosses the aluminum can on the ground. Clink. Lenny's posture straightens. I can see the peaceful meadows in his eyes ignite and blaze with new flames of energy. With new found intensity, Lenny hauls Zombie Smasher Extreme 5000 from the bed of his truck and howls "Let's go kill us some Zombie!"

Lenny marches towards the city, holding the lead pipe like an oversized sword. I follow him, rapidly surveying the surrounding building for any signs of our green friends. Green friends is a euphemism for zombies by the way. I think that's pretty clever right? Green friends? Yeah, that's witty for sure.

"Alright Eric, we's gonna have to walk through two streets first. I's already cleared them out, but I'd gander there are at least a few of 'em out out there. Just watch your rear and stay close, but not close enough to get smacked up by ol' smasher here," Lenny comments as he pats the oversized weapon. I listen closely. The last thing I want to do was take nearly 100 pounds of lead to the back of my head.

As soon as we enter the first street, Lenny spots a small crowd of zombies clustered over a meal. The sick things are feeding their faces on who-knows-what, eating like ravenous cannibals. Lenny wastes no time. He rushes the crowd of zombies in a flash, swinging his pipe in a horizontal slash. The blow sends the zombies soaring and scream-moaning, one of the creatures must of been at least six feet in the air. I gawked at the sight of airborne zombies, too speechless to even draw my weapon. With a series of sickening thumps, the creatures strike the ground, resulting in either instant death or severe injury. Lenny drops the pipe and flips out his bowie knife, sinking the blade into the skull of each zombie. Lenny then turns around and frantically gestures at something behind me. I rotate and my heart skips a beat.

There is a zombie inches from my face. I gag at a whiff of rotten stench emanating from the drooling mouth of the creature. Panicking, I grab my machete and flail in the creature's general direction. The flat of the blade knocks the creature in the head. Fortunately, the blow is powerful enough to knock the zombie over. Regaining my composure, I deliver machete to the neck of the creature, effectively killing it.

I glance at Lenny and he is shaking his head. "Come on Eric, you gotta watch yer rear. Don't want ya to become zombie food after all that trainin. Now come on and foller me and don't get distracted." Shaking off the close encounter, I sheath my blade and catch up with Lenny.

Lenny spots a group of four zombies in the distance and draws a slingshot from his backpack. I pull out a fistful of rocks and hand Lenny a stone the size of a orange. Lenny rapidly loads the slingshot and fires with military-like precision. The missile slams into unsuspecting zombie-skull, sending the creature sprawling onto its face. The other creatures scream-moan and turn around, but Lenny is lightning fast. Before they can make any ground, Lenny rapidly fires three more rocks, each scoring a perfectly placed strike in dome of the creatures. I resist the urge to smile as I watch Lenny down the zombies. I have no way to know for sure, but I had a gut feeling that Lenny is the best in the business. We continue prowling the streets of Charleston, finding them mostly empty. There are a few straggling zombies here and there, but Lenny takes care of business quickly. In no time, we make it to the edge of Oakwood road, which Lenny had designated as street number 8.

Lenny debriefs the situation. "By the size of this street, I'd reckon that we got anywhere from twenty to two hundred zombies on our hands. You gotta help me with this one Eric. We use our ranged weapons until them zombies get real close. Then, we beat 'em to a pulp. Ya ready?"

My intestines are sick and squirming -- I'm anything but ready. But I nod anyway. Lenny gives me a wild crooked grin, yells, "It's Zombie Time," and charges. I scamper along, trying to keep up.