Thursday, January 14, 2010

Bad Dog

by Ari Collins

“Shit!" Martin said. “Guard dog. We gotta get over the fence, man!” The moans of the shambling undead rounded the corner behind us.

I rummaged for a Slim Jim. “That’s just big stupid Zeebo.” The dog wore his usual dumb expression as the snack sailed by. “Goddamnit.”

Then Zeebo, tongue lolling out, began to moan.

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