“The zombies were chomping, munching, crunching… It was utterly disgusting. Sven felt the Starbucks beverages rumble in his stomach as he stood there, transfixed by the zombies and their attack on the raw meat. “That is a decidedly revolting vision,” Milt said, coming up behind Sven. “If I may be permitted to say so.” “Yeah,” Brian said. “Disgusting. Just how I left them.” Sven didn’t want to come any closer, but he made himself approach so that he would have a better shot. He drew nearer, measu...ring his steps and raising the shotgun at the same time. There had to be at least twenty of them, huddled around the meat refrigerators, ripping at all the raw flesh they could get their gnarled hands on. They pushed the shrink-wrapped pieces of meat at their mouths in feverish uncoordinated movements. Their arms and bodies jerked violently as they reached, grabbed, bit, slurped, and chewed. Their heads and necks were the worst to look at it—contorting with each snap and slurp and— Sven had to turn away for a moment, on the verge of being sick in his surgical mask.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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