What had been a fun family outing has soured into a seething silence. After warning my son not to walk with his phone in front of his face, I confiscate the device when he re-offends minutes later. Now he hates me. But I love him and don’t want him to turn into a zombie. And believe me, they do walk among us. Though it’s not the brains of others they crave but the desire to distract their own and render themselves oblivious to their surroundings. “People die doing that” I tell him, thinking of the growing number of device related deaths. In my harsher moments, I believe such fatalities are fair enough – a modern day Darwinian culling of those unfit to survive. And at my most extreme, I imagine myself as a master of the universe – deciding to speed up the process. Suddenly, holes open up in footpaths across the globe, their depths descending to the earth’s molten core. Elsewhere, racks of sharpened spikes spring up, awaiting the unwary. And any vehicle that has a device distracted zombie in its path experiences sudden brake failure. Afterwards the lesson will be learned: always be aware. Or this vengeful God will unleash yet another zombie apocalypse.