4 Chapter 4

And though I could’ve easily sent a great many of them to their maker as well, to put them out of their misery, that wasn’t my job either. Plus, it’s not like shooting ducks in a barrel. These were still humans, undead zombies though they were. And killing someone, and/or rekilling, even an undead someone, was never fun and only to be done out of dire necessity. Like when a horde of them was chasing after you, eager to rip into your flesh. Gives me the chills to think about it. Or at least would if my body wasn’t already as chilly as a San Francisco summer, minus, of course, that oddly sizzling power plant of mine, which never seemed to warm the surface of things, nice as that would’ve been.