Roland is a head in a jar. He was my best friend: we worked together at our first high school jobs, packaging testing materials to send out to schools. That job didn’t last long, but we stayed close.
I’m the one who separated his head from his body. He made me promise, so I did it. I think he was figuring that zombie Roland would die, but he didn’t. I guess you have to destroy the brain, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m trying to decide whether to take the jar when I make for the hills.