I turn back around and see another zombie coming out from behind some trees. “I’m sorry if that offends you,” he calls after me. Normally I’d come back with some smart-ass remark, but my heart isn’t in it today. I can’t figure out who’s protecting who.” One minute you’re tough and the next you’re soft. We need to kill them before they kill us. Like a true macho man, he sees it, he kills it, he moves on. Dude has no time for any of the technical stuff. “It matters because…” My words trail off when I see his bored expression. “I do, I guess.” I shrug too and stand up. “Just wondering what makes them, I don’t know, tick?” “Crunch, it’s fucking dead-again,” he adds. “What are you staring at?” I guess in a way I hope Mom is alive too if she isn’t, then Pops will probably have given up and be rotting away somewhere. Even though he left me for dead, I hope he’s alive somewhere. Not for the first time in the last six months, I think of my parents-well, I think of my pops, more precisely. If I was ever squeamish about this shit, that ship has long since sailed. If anything, I find it a little fascinating these days-the way the blood has blackened and congealed, yet the brain is still idling. I nod a yes, and stab the zombie in the head again, just to be sure.
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