Mr. Henks sat on the curb, refused to get up when the zombies appeared yet again. “Go on. I can’t. Knees.” Kristen didn’t argue, none of them did. They ran, not looking back, leaving Henks to be slowly, inexorably encircled.
That night as she lay awake on the strip mall roof, heart still pounding, Kristen thought of Henks. They hadn’t heard any screams, but the horde couldn’t have missed the old man. He’d bought them time, but was it by running off in another direction, or offering them an easy meal?
Who would be left behind tomorrow? Anyone? Perhaps her?
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