I'm worried that a zombie plague will take over the planet, turning everyone else into flesh-eating undead things, and I'll end up being the last non-zombie person on the face of the Earth.
But I'm not concerned because I think that I would be the ultimate target for the stagging, ravenous walking corpses, the one bright spot of light in a world of darkness. I'm not worried that I'd be the last guardian of a vanished society, bravely facing each day determined to hold on to my humanity. I'm not worried that the zombie horde will stalk me like hyenas stalk their prey, waiting for me to make the one mistake that will allow them to finally consume me and make me one of them at last.
No, I'm worried that if I'm the last non-zombie on the Earth, when the inevitable last day comes and I get turned into a zombie they'll be fresh out of brains.
Think about it, if everyone in the world got turned into zombies but me, and if zombies eat brains (they do), then wouldn't they have pretty much run out of brains by the time they got around to infecting me?
The last thing I want is to be the loneliest zombie, starving to death after Armageddon because the other greedy bastard zombies ate up all the brains before I could get there.
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You could always resort to eating your own. Like in "Silence of the Lambs". You're a zombie after all. Don't think you would feel it.
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