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What are Little Zombies Made of? (Cities of the Dead) Page 3

ground.

  “Our lives have ‘meaning?’ Shit, Trace, I can’t even fuck Marcia Brewer on the weekends anymore after we been drinking for a couple of hours at the bar. I can’t eat hamburgers and French fries for lunch. I can’t go to the movies. I can’t do anything, anymore. I never really hated my life, Trace, I just wanted a little more than I had.

  “Now, I got nothin’.”

  Trace smiled slightly. “And when we kill the zombies, Dag, and you get back all that; you’ll feel like a king. Trust me: zombies ain’t the future, we are. And we’ll be some of the people who fought back, who won the war. Shit, we might even end up heroes.”

  Dag cocked his head and rolled his eyes. “Trace, I ain’t never cared to be a hero. I just wanted to live a normal life.”

  And then Trace laughed boomingly, suddenly realizing his friend had been holding out on him about something important to him. “And, shit, Dag, Marcia Brewer’s living in Daleville with her brother on the second floor of some shit-hole apartment flight students used to rent. And she’s skinny, now. I thought you always thought she was just a good fat fuck, I didn’t realize you liked her.”

  Trace laughed again and slapped Dag on the back. “Hell, we can drive down there tomorra mornin’ and see if she remembers you.

  “Now, let’s go see if this fat-fucker I’m drainin’ has bled out yet. I’m kinda curious how much blood they need to stay alive.”

  Get the entire collection of 20 stories - Cities of the Dead: Stories from the Zombie Apocalypse

  About the Author

  William Young can fly helicopters and airplanes, drive automobiles, steer boats, rollerblade, water ski, snowboard, and ride a bicycle. He was a newspaper reporter for more than a decade at five different newspapers. He has also worked as a golf caddy, flipped burgers at a fast food chain, stocked grocery store shelves, sold ski equipment, worked at a funeral home, unloaded trucks for a department store and worked as a uniformed security guard. He lives in a small post-industrial town along the Schuylkill River in Pennsylvania with his wife and three children.

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