Perhaps the Next Time AroundHe runs into her while traveling through north Texas (rumor has it there’s a functioning military base in Arizona somewhere, and even if it’s as reliable as a fortune in a cookie from a Chinese restaurant at least it’s something). His traps weren’t quite as effective as they ought to have been, and his panicked shots go wide of head injuries. Then there’s the sound of a shotgun going off, and every single zom’s head explodes in a slurry of flesh, bone, and blood.More Like This
She begins by chewing him out for letting them sneak up on him, criticizing his hideout and mocking his aim.
"Hey, I didn’t ask for your help,” he snaps, though he’s almost glad she didn’t expect a thank you. He doesn’t do gratitude very well.
Turns out she ran out of food two days ago. He gives her two bottles of water, and they share a can of Chef Boyardee’s finest ravioli. He doesn’t point out that she could have killed h
mirror zombiesMy reflection stopped talking to me today. I think he's dead.More Like This
Ekim's almost the first thing I see every morning. There's a full-length mirror on my closet door, and my bed is positioned so that when I sit up in the morning I'm staring right at it. When I woke up, Ekim was still there, sitting up at the exact same time in the exact same way – well, not the exact same way. He still sat up and walked around like he's compelled somehow, but if I stopped moving and held still, Ekim wavered a bit, listing back and forth like one of those really tall buildings in a strong wind. When I looked closely at him, like in the smaller neck-up mirror in the bathroom, I could see his eyes were unfocused.
This morning, I thought he was just sick. But he almost always responds when I rap on the mirror, and he always responds if I rap twice. I rapped twice fifteen times, thirty times in all, and he never looked at me.
Then I went to the supermarket. I caught glimpses of him in the glass doors in the