The Walking Dead
The Little Comic Book That Could
by Josh Jackson
I’m in San Diego, 2,100 miles from the zombies who trapped Rick Grimes in a military tank in downtown Atlanta and overran Hershel’s farm outside the city. But my path is blocked by Walkers, nonetheless. They’re crawling throughout Petco Park, and the signs of our doom are everywhere: the bloodstains on the door to the Padres’ pressbox, the desperate hand-drawn warning signs in the stairwell, the rotting arms reaching across barriers throughout the stadium’s maze of tunnels.
As I make it safely outside into plaza, I spot the man who’s responsible for this whole zombie apocalypse: Robert Kirkman. He wrote the...