Chapter 42: "He ran alone. In a world of militaristic police and unwitting zombies, he ran. The only man on earth who could truly be described as undead weaved between the brainless hordes and moved swiftly. Zombies eat brains, but he encouraged the mind’s growth. Zombies have no logic, only hunger, but he knew exactly what he was doing. His flesh was dead-pale—that’s why the bullets and blades didn’t hurt him—but his mind and soul were firmly intact. He was dead the day he was born, but he was no zombie. Rapid-fire spread amongst the masses gathered in certain parts of the city as he was followed, killing hundreds in the crossfire, but he knew what he was doing; that’s why he ran. He ran for those who were capable of running, and for those who weren’t. He ran in order to continue to exist on the plain in which he was born, not the plain in which people were being taken. He fired no shots, therefore the collateral damage wasn’t his, it was theirs. The more he ran, the more zombies they killed.
Posted on: Fri, 20 Sep 2013 22:30:25 +0000
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