Imagine if everyone in America wanted the same thing. Your plumber, the mail carrier, the folks next door, the girl at the coffee shop, firefighters, cops, those who worship in churches, synagogues, and mosques. Your best friend. The same exact thing. Your parents, your children, your lover. Every one of them wants only one thing. They want to kill you. And you, them. But not usually at the same time, or for longer than twenty minutes, at which point they will return to their human state, temporarily. At least until things get worse. Much worse. No one can tell where or when they might flip, so there is no safety. Not anywhere or anytime. A mother and child cannot occupy a room together without risk of murder. Think of any routine situation in our daily lives. That scenario is now an intensely deadly threat. The more people present, the greater the risk. The President of the United States, and his teams; medical geniuses, secret operatives, Navy SEALs – they are all working feverishly to eradicate the hell that has befallen us. Oh, all of them also want to kill you, and each other, now and then. For a young couple in love, having driven across the country for a Las Vegas wedding, their changing perceptions of bliss, honesty, greed, intolerance, and the ever-present threat of violent death, has taken them to the only place that some locals have whispered about as being “safe”; the 200 miles of drainage tunnels beneath Sin City. One thing is certain; they won’t be alone down there. We are all human beings. We are not the living dead, the evil dead, or the walking dead. We breathe, we feel, we love. We are not, in any way, zombies. Lately though, on occasion, we are hungry, we are angry, and we focus only on immediate feeding. Human flesh and blood is all we crave. We have become cannibals, in a sense, but with regard to manner and implementation, achingly worse. You, me, and everyone we know. We are Canni.