EXCERPT from Dying Days 5 by Armand Rosamilia:
Sally was bleeding out and all Mitchell could think about was if the zombies could smell it. He’d been covering her mouth for an hour, pushing down hard every time she tried to scream.
“You’re hurting her,” the little Puerto Rican bitch said for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. Her New Yaw-Rican accent was getting on Mitchell’s nerves. If she wasn’t so damn hot, he would cover her mouth, too, but also her nose, until she died.
He hated having such vile thoughts. He was one of the good guys. “If she cries out, we’re dead. I heard noises outside.”
“There’s always noises outside,” the wimpy dude with the cracked glasses said. “The world moves around us.”
“Man, whatever drugs you’re taking, please share with me,” said the Puerto Rican chick. “Or else shut the fuck up…
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