zombies

Something coming back from the dead was almost always bad news. Movies taught me that. For every one Jesus you get a million zombies.

Little old laidesspeed away in their wheel chairs,frightened meals on wheels.

On the right, a brigade of trolls. On the left, squabling civil servants. Invasion of zombies. Have I managed to summarize the zeitgeist now?

The line of traffic advancing towards the rising sun looked like a procession of the returning dead. Every one of them, solitaries in clean shirts, smoking, checking mirrors to see if their reflections were still there, wore dark glasses.

Let me make sure I have this straight. The cavalry just now rode into town and it's a Czech Gypsy porn-star zombie killer. Have I got that right?

I totally don't know what to do." He got up and started pacing. "Am I supposed to get you a present? Or maybe a card. I'm completely lost.

For the first time in his life, Stony felt it. It ran like a hot wire, up from his spine, to the base of his skull. His mouth opened on its own.He wanted to bite. He wanted to bite hard.

Sometimes the thing one wants most is the very thing that will get him killed with an axe.

Everyone is born a freak," notes Hayley. "Every newborn baby, wet and hungry and screaming, is a fresh-hatched freak who wants to have a good time and make the world a better place. . . . Most teenagers wind up in high school. And high school is where the zombification process becomes deadly.

There are probably more of us. If we__e all zombies, thenthere__ got to be more. I say we go up to the cemetery and find out.___an we get soda on the way?__othing washes down brains better than a can of Coca Cola and a little shameless product placement. (Hey, the undead do have an image problem.)__oda and cemeteries! Soda and cemeteries!_ they chanted. __nd braaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiins!___ey Bernie, you__e getting pretty good at that.___kay, you try.___raaa__ the zombie belched, ___iiinsss.__arl heaved the coroner__ body out of the way. They headed off for the cemetery, each trying furiously to perfect their own, unique and personal call for brains like an undead choir, out of tune.__raaaaiiiiins!_ __raaiiiiiiiinns!_ __raaaaaaaaaains!_ __ray-uns.___hat was just awful._ ...Away into the night.

The zombies were like Canadians, in that they looked enough like real people at first, to fool you.

I grinned, revealing the gap where my left incisor had been prior to a nasty encounter with a man who thought that running a zombie dog fighting ring would be a great way to spend his twilight years. Ben alwasy says I'd be more photogenic and pull better ratings if I got it fixed, but Ben can stuff it. I don't have the time or patience to mess around with dentures and bridges, and given the odds and how I tend to do my job, I'll probably be a zombie someday. Being a zombie with unbreakable titanium implants in my mouth seems like an asshole thing to do.

You got what you deserved. Now be a man and confess to what most of us already know.

I've got everything I need right here." That sentimental thought met a room full of cheesy and sarcastic "aw's" and an empty water bottle thrown at my head. No, stop guys, really. You're embarrassing me.

Listen up, Little Miss Fun Hater. Off the record, if it wasn't for our school's strict but smarmy anti-bullying laws, I would bitch-slap you into next summer.

What an excellent father you have, girls!' said she, when the door was shut. 'Such joys are scarce since the good Lord saw fit to close the gates of Hell and doom the dead to walk amongst us.

Be nice to her,_ I muttered under my breath. __he__ my sister; she got sick. She lost her kid. For all I know, she may have eaten her.

That puke was the most wonderful thing I'd ever seen. It was green and a little red. Technicolor, really, the color puke is supposed to be. It definitely wasn't black, and it didn't smell like toasty poop. This was a good sign.