Feel free to take a look at my completed first issue of Z-Man #1 online now http://z-mancomic.com/ No tricks, just a personal project. Any opinions are welcome, and appreciated. Enjoy the ZA in a world of real-life Heroes.

 

Thank you and thank you. I did everything from blank paper to digital image, and the writing as well. It is just a project I decided upon back in October. The story is outlined so far ahead, it will take years to catch up in issues. I am assuming about a month and a half to two months per issue barring a string of injuries like I had in the last month and a half (Broke my index finger moving a TV, Sprained my wrist at work, and dislocated my shoulder... all on the left arm :zombies_mad: ), and moving away from the busy holiday season. If I did not work at least full time a week, I could do it all in a month solo (Not an easy task though, as I fully understand why comics have a different person for each job.)

My proudest facet is that I have managed to create not only a world that will be unique to myself, but my antagonists and protagonists are like nothing seen before. Negan is downright manageable compared to some of my villains and no one can claim zombies like I have them detailed; You will see things no author or screenwriter have conceived in this genre.

There will be a healthy dose of slapstick and black comedy mixed with drama, mystery and suspense amid the backdrop of the apocalypse. and the locations will be fresh and intriguing.

I even have a few surprises that will likely get me some hate mail and/or death threats... It's all good! I am doing this as a hobby unless someone wants to pay me for it.

For now enjoy the ride, I guarantee a wild one.

 

For those interested, I posted the cover for Issue 2, and added a teaser image

 

And for completeness, I am having some complications accessing my webspace account for now. But I did post page one on my facebook below.

 

Could have sworn I posted this days ago, but the first installment of issue #2 is up and viewable at z-mancomic.com .

Since I have already begun to receive questions, I will only reveal anything that will not spoil what I have planned. Any answers that seem like spoilers may be intentionally diluted with misdirection for the sake of story...

That is all. Enjoy.

 

Z-Man Comic Outlines

I just finished outlining how many issues I have filled for stories, and include each below. (Note that the Titles are functioning placeholders, not actual titles). The numbered entries are blocks that each series will occupy. As for now, this is how far ahead I have planned the story so far:

1. Scramble to safety

• Origin ("Heroween")
• Hardware Run ("Screwed")
• Blockade Running
• Finding Cover
• Off the Map

2. Establishing Parameters

• Setting Up Shop
• Surviving the Saviors
• Learning the Ropes
• Roommates Suck
• No Place Like Home

3. Fight or Flight

• I'm Hungry
• Easy Pickings
• Shelter
• Highwayman
• Hidden

4. Pressing Onward

• Shadowed
• Infighting
• Pursued
• Living the Dream
• Not Amused

5. Hunkering Down

• Idea Man
• Planning Stages
• Escape Route
• Uninvited
• Free Pass

6. As Normal As It Gets

• Riding Out the Storm Pt. 1
• Riding Out the Storm Pt. 2
• Running Into Trouble
• Beyond Capacity
• Fun Time is Over

7. Stranger and Stranger

• Tin Man
• Stone Walls Do Not a Prison Make
• Nor Iron Bars a Cage
• Fortress
• Juggernaut

8. Gathering Moss

• Call For Help
• Wing and a Prayer
• Death Becomes Her
• Vindictive
• Revenge

9. Dying to Live

• Hope
• Joy
• Caring
• Love
• Rejection
• Misery
• Anxiety
• Hysteria
• Scorn
• Wrath

10. Braving the Wild

• Camping
• Stampede
• Wasteland
• Concrete Wilderness Pt. 1
• Concrete Wilderness Pt. 2

11. City Living

• 3 BR 2 Ba
• All Utilities Paid
• Nearby Shopping
• Parking Adjacent
• Deposit Non-Refundable

12. Community

• Welcome
• Eat Your Vegetables
• A Place For Everything
• Labor Law
• Discrimination

13. Bonding

• Favor the Weak
• Friends In Low Places
• Trust Exercise
• Mine Your Buisness
• Stripped Down

14. Exercise

• Grievance
• Failure of Management
• Employee of the Month
• Two Weeks Notice
• Punching Out

15. Further Questions

• Who
• What
• When
• Where
• Why

16. All Gone Wrong

• Flotilla
• Chain of Command
• Castaway
• Smoke on the Water
• Fire in the Sky

17. Peace at Last

• The Cove
• Bounty
• Breathing Room
• Vacation
• Island Fever

18. Isolation

• Washed Ashore
• A Bold Idea
• Shoving Off
• The Raft
• Land Ho

19. Lost Angels

• The Ring of Fire
• Picking Battles
• Unholy Alligence
• Horror of the Living
• Life Among the Dead

20. Look to the Skies

• LA Riots
• Brother My Brother
• A War On Three Fronts
• Feeding
• Gone in a Flash

21. The Plan All Along

• Futile
• Revelation
• A Million To One
• The Quick and the Dead
• Wish Upon A Star
• Hiding Out
• Quick Trip
• Breeding Grounds
• Green Eggs and Dam
• Stand

So it looks like, if I could devote all my time to this I have enough issues to take me almost to where we are in TWD right now. Oh I have got to get me some startup money and find a way to push this through. Until then, it is baby steps at a time. Some stories may be stretched out to fill more issues, but for now, this should be enough to show I have a solid plan going forward.

 

Just to provide info for the lack of new installments:

Z-Man has slowed up considerably due to circumstances beyond my control. I have had family institutionalized, my vehicle broke down, and just recently my landlord passed away leaving his family in charge; they have decided that despite 8 years of perfect tenancy, that they no longer want pets so my entire family has been evicted with little notice and no effort to request we correct their new grievance with us.

Between having to make frequent hospital visits, packing and cleaning, attempting to locate a new residence that will accept our 17 year old dog and two indoor cats, looking for some way to repair the only truck I know of, and working full-time, something had to give. I only wish it had not been the one thing that has kept me from succumbing to depression and given me something to do.

Rest assured Z-Man will continue. There is just far too much story already written (See the post above for a clue about how far ahead this is planned.) and a ton of pages not yet released to abandon my pet project so soon in it's infancy. I only wanted to fill any interested parties in as to why the major delay lately, and I hope to resolve all of these issues in short order. If there are any questions or comments, feel free to include them here.

Until the next time, "Strive to Survive!"

 

Hey, Literature I have not read yet! I will dig those up post haste.

As for the Silo; it is indeed empty of ordinance, but one of the launch doors is jammed in the open position. The interior is in pretty good shape, but the security of that particular retreat is heavily in question, and there are no remaining amenities inside. By the time we get there, we also have a couple extra elderly citizens; One managed to bring her knitting kit, and the other bears only a thin cane. The silo is a rough first home after the first 5 issues, but lies close to ground zero of the outbreak. Luckily, we will have integrated "Sarge" and "Jimbo" into the group by then, so I will not have to do it alone. Adam will have also managed to come into his niche by then as well, and don't count out John Johnston's ability to keep a trick or two up his sleeve either.

As I mentioned, Z-Man is not down for the count, only his creator... Once I settle affairs here and get myself moved and my family tended too, I'm coming back swingin'! To update: Fixed the truck, Son is home, and packing is almost complete. Now to find a place and get all my crap there before the 1st... The fun never ends.

"Strive to survive!"

 

There is much more to come, but indeed have been caught up in a mountain of bureaucracy trying to move. Once the new house is set up, I will have a studio to work from, and much more time to work. Unexpected moves are no fun at all, but do open doors.

 

I've gotten moved in (FINALLY!!!!) and have begun the process to clear up the living spaces. More to come...

 

Z-Man has been on hiatus for quite some time, as the Author has been busy trying to put his new home in order. But don't think that Z-Man is gone, or that there is little left on the horizon. Z-Man is heading your way again soon! With any luck, I will be putting together a kickstarter for this title as well as potentially an entire publishing line for other unique projects. Below you will find a Z-Man Primer that gives some back-story to a future encounter. I will throw a few of these out as time goes on, and will endeavor to provide these in addition to the ongoing comic story. Kickstarter willing, I will soon be able to release comic issues on a much more tight timeline and also be able to provide help in the form of proven comic talent to speed up the process significantly. Enjoy...
　

Homeland Insecurity​

"I'll be home right after this gets resolved baby," Krys said quietly into his radio, "Just make sure the windows and doors are locked up tight, and give the kids a hug and kiss for Daddy. If things get out of hand, just lock yourselves into the panic room. There should be enough supplies and weapons in there to hold you all for a while, and I will check in on the radio from time to time." A female voice returned "I am scared Krys, I heard gunshots nearby, and someone was screaming outside about five minutes ago. Can't you just come home?" Krys pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes in distress. It was easy to say no when he was overseas, but it pained him to deny such a simple request when he was only a few short miles to his home from where he was. "You know that is just not possible right now baby. I would feel much better knowing that I am out here looking out for you guys. This will all be over before you know it. I love you." "I love you too baby," the female voice replied over the radio, "be safe for us."

Seargeant Krystopher Blankenship tucked his personal radio back into a pouch on his tac-vest and turned around to the ribbing from his unit; "Oooh, he loves her." mocked the rotund Private Esparza from his post atop the Humvee's mounted gun. "Have you seen his wife?" Asked Corporal Sanchez from the supply container, "I wouldn't mind loving her myself once or twice." as he cocked his bushy black eyebrows up and down. A mixture of laughter, whistles, and catcalls came from the rest of the unit. "I bet when this is over, we will have to start preparing for the arrival of another little Sarge." Joked the slender, bespectacled Private Durbin, "I give it about nine months, so sometime between late June, and early July ... Hey Sarge! you could have a Fourth of July surprise." Private Clark, the newest recruit piped up from his silence in order to participate in the fun, "Yeah. Just a few more deployments, and he will have his own unit at home at this rate." His freckled face turning up into a mischievous grin.

"You boys secure that shit right now and keep an eye on your six and off my ten!" Barked the Sergeant, "I would hate to have to write letters home to your boyfriends because you neglected your duties." Krys Lifted his Binos to scan down the street. It was getting dark, and since this whole mess started last night there had been some unbelievable reports coming from other units on duty. So far, this street has been pretty quiet, but Krys hadn't let his guard down in the field since he lost half his unit in Baghdad nine years ago due to incomplete intelligence. Things have escalated beyond belief within the city, and another night approached rapidly. Word was that containment was nearly impossible due to the rapid spread of the rioting, and orders were to secure the city and effect a quarantine perimeter around the city. No one in or out until the all-clear sounded, and lethal force was not only advised, but outright ordered of him and his men. With his wife and three children within the city itself, The Seargeant had mixed feelings about applying such a military solution to a civil situation, but Krys was never one to question his orders. Krystopher assumed that his superiors knew far more than he did due to compartmentalization, and if he was negligent in his duties it could affect the benefits he needed for his family or even land him in prison.

It was Halloween today, but the vacant streets and military hardware blocking every roadway made his hometown look more like Iraq than the heartland, which made him uncomfortable. The sun was just now starting its descent below the horizon, and the southwest sunset cast an eerie glow about the city that was sprinkled with rain off and on all day. What should have been a crowded street full of children of all ages dressed as monsters, ninjas, pirates, and princesses, looked like a scene from the Twilight Zone; unnerving and out of the norm for this area.

About two hundred yards down the street, Krys spotted someone shuffling around a corner turning his way. He could not get a very clear look at them, but they seemed to be either confused or intoxicated. He noted that the clothing looked pretty worn or ragged, and may have been in a fight. "On alert men, I've got a potential suspect crossing from Aspen avenue. Stay sharp!" The individual wandered crookedly across the sidewalk, and veered away across the street. It seemed that whoever this was had no intention of attempting to confront the barricade manned by America's finest, and Krys found that preferable to having to draw down on a member of his own community.

As they watched the individual in the distance, the radio in the APC erupted to life. A clearly panicked voice yelling over the sound of gunfire and the unintelligible shouts of fighting in the background; "This is Private Rilley of the 345th in zone five. The barricades in zone five have been overrun, command structure and operations have been compromised. Requesting air support and extraction at our location immediately! Repeat, this is pri-" His radioed plea was cut short by the sound of shattering glass and an abruptly silenced yell.

Most of the Seargeant's unit, mesmerized by the abrupt and urgent transmission, found themselves staring at the cab of the APC for the radio to come back to life, unaware that the radio did more than inform them of what was going on miles away, but also drew the attention of the wanderer down the street their way. The man turned and began walking faster towards their end of the street. After a few seconds that seemed like hours, someone else came on amid the sound of distant gunfire; "Did I hear that right?" A question that got no answer, as Private Esparza spoke up, "Guys, we have incoming!" as he loaded his mounted gun in preparation.

The strange pedestrian began to lurch towards their location in an awkward gait. As he approached, he seemed to draw others that seemed to be coming from every side street, alley, and darkened corner. By the time it had gotten halfway to the checkpoint, one had swollen to many and all seemed to want to rush the checkpoint. Private Clark fumbled with his magazine and dropped it at his feet, while Seargeant Blankenship grabbed the bullhorn.

"Cease your advance and disperse immediately! The United States Army has been given authority to use all means necessary to prevent anyone from leaving the area until cleared!" The crowd was not only growing with each step, but did not seem to be heeding the warning given by the Seargeant. "If you do not disperse and return to your homes," Krys continued, "we will have no choice but to use deadly force. This is your only warning!" Setting down the mic, Krys raised his M4 and sighted down his scope at the approaching crowd. He could hear them approaching quickly, but could only discern guttural noises and shuffling, through his scope he could now clearly see the leader's face--or what was left of it.

Several deep wounds traversed laterally across the leader's face, as if someone had been hacking away with a knife at him. His left eye looked to be completely destroyed, and large flaps of flesh dangled off of his face like wet ribbon. Dark ichor ran down from the face, staining the tattered shirt riddled with what looked to be bullet holes. "What is-"The Seargeant hesitated for only an instant before barking out, "Targets are hostile, engage!" "But sir-"Sanchez began, but was interrupted by a stream of rapid fire from Esparza's weapon that began a cascade of weapons fire from their location. The Sergeant simply directed Sanchez towards the action and lifted his own weapon and began to fire into the fray.

It took mere seconds from the first rounds being fired until the leading edge of the growing crowd crashed into their barricades, some became crammed against the cement barriers, a few clumsily flopped over them as the crowd behind kept pushing forward. Despite the gunfire, few if any of the advancing crowd so much as slowed down. While grabbing for his dropped magazine, Private Clark flinched when the gunfire started and dropped down to seat the magazine into the receiver. By the time Clark raised himself up, his first sight was a bloodied face gnashing at him as it tumbled over the barrier.

Esparza felt totally in control behind the mounted guns atop the Humvee, and had every right to feel that way; every round he sprayed into the advancing crowd tore through every target in a line, and did significant damage on its way through. Several rounds cut people clean in half, some burst large portions of anatomy into a cloud of mist and shredded meat. Esparza was fighting back tears at what he had to do, and suddenly all those targets from overseas became a list of murders with his name atop it. He used to laugh at what his weapon could do to a person, but now he could find no joy in what he was doing or what he had done. His resolve held until the instant he caught a glimpse of a little girl's face in the crowd and he heard the sound of screaming amidst the sporadic gunfire.

Sanchez began backing away, lowering his weapon as he did so. The sight of American citizens coming at him like an enemy combatant was too much for him to fathom. In the Corporal's mind he could not imagine this being much more than a simple roadblock; turn the folks away with a smile and impress the kids with all the military hardware, a relaxing deployment with few foreseeable complications. Sanchez took another step back, seeing flashes of the angry, battered faces of the crowd bearing down on thier location amid the muzzle-flashes and feeling nothing but the urge to flee this madness.

Durbin looked to the front of the roadblock. Seeing this unfold from the very back, The gangly Private bagan to grab the inventory the front line required. His assessment was that this was going to be a protracted engagement, and there would be need of supplies there. Durbin reached into the supply container for surplus ammo and gear, but was interrupted by someone grasping his right shoulder. Private Durbin turned around just in time to catch a face full of bloody, busted teeth gnashing violently across the bridge of his nose, shattering his nasal bones and sinking deeply into his sinuses.

Krys was astonished at how quickly his position was compromised. One straggler turned into a throng of raging rioters in seconds, overwhelming his men; Men that had mostly proven their mettle in the deserts of the middle east and walked away clean, but now found themselves facing overwhelming numbers and an enemy that did not seem to care for their own safety. The Seargeant gritted his teeth and carefully fired at targets of opportunity, but he could see that there was no way his unit could hold this location. He fired twice more into the fray, and took a second to assess the situation...

Lowering his weapon, Krystopher scanned his surroundings; He saw the people running his forward barricades and his men holding their positions, but clearly unable to control the situation, he saw Private Clark lose control of his end and heard him screaming as someone fell over onto him. He heard the mounted gun cease firing and looked to see Esparza freezing up and recoiling away from his weapon. Behind him someone shouted out and the Seargeant turned around to see Durbin being attacked from behind as Sanchez backed towards him, unaware of what was unfolding to his rear like a first tour Cadet. Krys turned to yell at Esparza to pull it together and provide cover fire, when he saw hands grabbing him from the other side of the vehicle. Private Esparza did not put up any resistance, and did not even look to the side as he was pulled down from his perch atop the vehicle.

"Fall back! We are being flanked!" Krystopher yelled, backing towards Sanchez and Durbin. He reached Sanchez and told him "Go. Now!" Sanchez turned and ran, stumbling over Durbin and his attacker in his panic. As Krys watched, the citizen attacking Durbin reached out and caught Sanchez in the leg, pulling his battered mouth towards Sanchez's calf and clamping down as Durbin twitched on the ground. "No!" Krys screamed, realizing he had failed to both protect his men, and hold his position. As Sanchez screamed obsenities and struck the creep biting through his fatigues Krys realized that all gunfire had ceased and turned to see that all forward containment was also gone. He could only see a pile of people flooding behind the barricades, and moving his way. He raised his weapon, and began to back away defensively. Seargeant Blankenship fired again, attempting to slow the advancing masses, and reached the end of his Magazine. Still backing away, Krys drew his tactical knife and readied himself to fight.

Someone in the lead began to rush Krys. He jumped back to avoid the attack and slammed directly into the supply container cornering himself. The corrugated metal doors slammed together between Krys and his attacker, and rattled wildly as it began to beat and claw at the doors to get in. During this struggle, the exterior latch was bumped and the container doors locked from the outside, sealing the Seargeant in.

Krys heard two more shots fired from outside, one puncturing the side of the metal container and sending a pinhole of light into the darkened interior. Looking through it, he saw the back of Corporal Sanchez's head, raising his weapon and firing into the crowd that had built up inside their perimeter. "Run Sanchez! I said fall back!" Ordered Krys, but it was too late. Despite the wall of monsters closing in, it was Durbin who jumped up between the container and Corporal Sanchez, jumping on Sanchez amid his cries of grief and pain as the Seargeant beat on the door trying to break out in vain.

After the gunfire ended and the ringing from combat faded from his ears, Krystopher was forced to listen in shock to the guttural sounds of the beasts chewing on what remained of his squad. Krys tried to pretend that it was only the sound of walking through thick mud and an occasional breaking stick, but he could not explain away the smell. Had he never enlisted in the armed forces at all, he could have pretended that this was not the smell of bloody remains, but he knew the odor all too well. As the crowd began to disperse, Krys reached for the personal radio in his pocket. Somewhere in the fog of war, it must have been dropped from his vest. Out there, beyond the confines of this metal tomb, was the only window he had to his family.

Krys gathered up his wits, and took his knife and attempted to free the door. Sliding the blade between the doors, he pried against the latch and tried to free it. Just as he felt the latch start to slide, the blade of his knife snapped off sharply. His hand raked across the jagged metal and sliced deeply into the palm of his hand. Holding his hand in pain, he looked about for ammo for his weapon in order to shoot his way out. On the floor, pinched in the door of the container, was the strap of the ammo satchel. Durbin had never gotten it to the front with supplies, but he did manage to get them ... just on the other side of this metal door, which might as well have been a thousand miles away. Krys found himself trapped within the confines of a secure metal container filled to the top with MRE's, bottled water, and assorted gear useful to anyone who was not trapped in his situation.

Slumping down inside his cell, Krys began to softly weep. A single tear rolled down his face, as he heard the radio in the APC come back to life: "Air support en route zone five. ETA five minutes. All remaining personnel in zone Five are advised to clear the area." Krys clutched his knees on the floor of the container, and slowly broke into tears as he heard the blackhawks passing overhead.

To Be Continued in the pages of Z-Man. Coming Soon!

Thanks for reading,
~Z-Man