Zombiekill
“She peeled back the top like it was the lid on a tin of tuna and exposed the soft pink flesh underneath. It was soft and felt moist to the touch, but it was refreshing; it was new, a part of her that hadn’t been exposed to the zombies and the way the world was. She idly picked off the rest of the scab on her knee and let the breeze through the window cool the fresh new skin. Beyond the window was the garage where Kyler had been hiding all morning. They had argued ferociously last night about nothing in particular. It started when Charlie asked her father if they could spare anything for a dessert as she had not found the tinned hot dogs and rye crackers particularly tasty or satisfying. That in turn had led to a discussion on the merits of storing food long-term, which had evolved into how they were going to keep fed if no help arrived, and the zombies kept coming. They had gone from frustrated to angry in equal measure, and Charlie knew she couldn’t win. He seemed to fluctuate betwee...n not speaking to her at all and picking a fight in which he always had to have the last word.MoreLess
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