Biting The Bullet

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“Watch out! Watch out!” I yelled. “The dead are rising!”

All around us the reavers we’d defeated the first time around had rediscovered vertical. Multiple thoughts streaked through my mind simultaneously. Not all of them made sense, but a skilled translator might put them in the following light:

Oh Jesus! Oh crap! Zombies! The Wizard’s a necromancer. He could be around here somewhere, pulling their strings. So should I just run off into the night like some rabid raccoon and hope I luck into him? How stupid is that? Plus, it’s not him. It’s probably an apprentice. You know that. It may even be the mole. Is anybody murmuring a spell? How the hell can I tell? We are so outnumbered! Did Ashley just go down? My God, I think the semi is farther away than ever. Is that possible? Oh Jesus, was that Terrence’s leg? Don’t turn your head. I said don’t — never mind. Holy shit, that’s the barrel of a Colt .45 aimed right at your face.

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