zombie-apocalypse

__here__ no time for right or wrong,_ I said.

I__ not a bad person.

If you__ saved the girl, you__ be a hero. Next time.

People talk about survival. What they mean is killing the other guy.

Sal turned, an eye stalk hanging from his teeth.

I like to think she hates my guts a little less every hour.

You shouldn__ have done that, Dave.

I turned to her, my whole body hard with tiredness and regret.

Did you ever think it won__ be the undead who kill us, but ordinary people?

We are born. We die. Somewhere in between we live. And how we live is up to us. That__ it.

There__ no better way for a woman to punish a man than to make him sleep away from her.

She smiled at him like a freshman invited to the senior prom. It made my blood boil.

But I was still determined to protect her. It might be the one good thing I would ever do in my life. I wondered if God would even notice.

There__ nothing worse than delivering bad news to women. I hoped I wouldn__ get good at it.

I heard them tearing at it. It was the sound of mortality.

I don__ know how these things died without benefit of a bullet to the brain pan. They seemed to exist in an eternal twilight of longing.

Black vomit came gushing out Samantha__ mouth, adding to the puddle already on the floor. Samantha was covered in a sheen of sweat, crouched on all fours on the wooden hallway floor, like an animal. Her thick yellow fingernails made deep scratches in the wood as her body convulsed with each new expulsion of the black vomit. Her hair was long and thick and full; thicker and fuller than he had ever seen it. It reminded him of a lion__ mane. Her skin was a sickly pale grey with disturbing red boils the size of grapefruit and weeping puss-filled black blotches where others had burst. Spider webs of blue veins were visible under the skin all over her body.

Ebola then turns the insides of its host into jelly: you begin to vomit black junk which is basically your dissolved liver and internal organs.