You never really know who’s a zombie fan… until the topic comes up.
It’s not obvious. There’s no uniform. No signal and no way to tell just by looking at someone.
And I’m part of that group too. If you saw me going about my day, you probably wouldn’t think, “Yeah, she’s into zombie apocalypse scenarios.” I have my life together. I look normal.
But if you knew… you’d know.
The Theater Encounter
A few months ago, I went to see 28 Years Later. I got there early, so I sat at the bar to grab a drink and an appetizer before the movie started.
Next to me were two women in their mid-20s, very put together, elegant, the kind of people you’d probably assume were heading to a brunch or a social event. If I’m being honest, I would’ve never guessed they were into zombie anything.
We started talking casually, and I asked what movie they were there to watch.
“28 Years Later,” they said, excited.
That was the moment everything shifted.
Within seconds, we were deep into it, talking about zombie films, outbreaks, survival scenarios. They told me they had been fans for years.
Years.
I remember thinking, how would anyone ever guess this about you?
And just like that, we were instant friends.
The Weekend Encounter
Then it happened again this past weekend.
I was talking to a dad in his 30s and his son, who couldn’t have been more than 11. We were chatting about video games, just casually listing favorites back and forth.
Nothing unusual.
Until I mentioned mine.
“Left 4 Dead,” I said. “The first one.”
Their faces lit up immediately.
And just like that, I knew.
They started talking about how much they loved it, the original, the sequels, other zombie games they had played. The energy shifted instantly. It wasn’t just small talk anymore.
It felt like we had found common ground that actually meant something.
And I’m not even exaggerating when I say this: in that moment, they felt like my people.
Like family.
A Quiet Community
That’s when it really clicked for me.
There are a lot of zombie fans out there.
A lot.
But most of them don’t look like what you’d expect.
They’re not walking around announcing it. They’re not wearing it on their sleeve. They’re just living their lives, working, raising families, going out, doing normal things.
Until the topic comes up.
And when it does, it’s like flipping a switch.
Suddenly, you’re not strangers anymore.
You’re people who have thought about the same scenarios. Watched the same worlds collapse. Asked the same questions:
What would I do?
Would I survive?
Where would I go?
There’s something strangely bonding about that.
Why This Matters to Me
I think that’s part of why I’m building Letters From A Survivor.
Because this isn’t just about zombies.
It’s about the people who are drawn to these stories, the ones who think deeper about survival, about humanity, about what happens when everything falls apart.
The ones you’d never expect… until you start talking.
So if you’re one of those people, just know this:
You’re not as rare as you think.
We’re out here.
Quietly.
Waiting for the right conversation.
—
If you’ve ever had one of those moments, where a simple conversation turns into something deeper because you realize you’re talking to another zombie fan, then you’ll probably feel right at home with Letters From A Survivor.
It’s a story built for people like us. One letter at a time, following two survivors trying to make sense of a world that’s falling apart.
