Saturday, July 23, 2016

Our Choices - Episode 9

I know it is probably not my place but Benjamin has a right to know. I inhale slowly.

"Okay, so..." It is harder than I thought. I never had to tell Frank, my grandparents told each of us on their own, making sure we would understand, making sure we knew they were there for us. "Okay, um... Do you know where cows go when they grow old and die?" I guess I am doing this all wrong but I have no idea what else to do than try to find out what Benjamin already knows.

Benjamin looks at me with his brows drawn together, thinking. "Ma says that when I die, I go to heaven."

I nod. "Okay. Your Dad says that, too?"

Benjamin shrugs and rips handfuls of straw from the ball, letting it rain on our shoes. "Mmmm... I don't know." Then his eyes light up. "But Ezra says the probaba... probilili..." He scrunches up his nose adorably and frowns.

"The probability?" I suggest.

"Yes!" Benjamin nods, watching his hands with the straw. "He says it is low, that heaven exists. I heard him say that. So that means it maybe won't happen, right?" He grins at me, proud he has figured that out. "I don't know where I'll go then instead, though."

That questions throws me for a moment. "Oh, huh... Yeah... I don't know either."

Benjamin sits up straighter. "But where are my parents now?"

I exhale and take a heart. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier, Benjamin. They-"

"Benjamin!" Ezra's wheelchair rolls toward us over the paved path between the cow's boxes. Ezra stops it a few feet from us, looking thunderous. "Help your grandma in the kitchen, would you?"

Benjamin jumps down from the straw, beaming, and runs past us outside.

I avoid Ezra's glare and try to step around him but his hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

I whirl around to him, shaking my hand free and rub the sore spot on my wrist. "He needs to know, Ezra! It's not fair not to tell him."

Ezra pushes his fists into his thighs. "So you thought it was your part to tell him?"

I put my hands on my hips. "Since you obviously weren't going to. Yes!"

"Fuck, Caroline, this is none of your business!" Ezra's dark eyes are dangerous. He is really furious. "Benjamin is not your child. He is not even related to you. You have no right--" His fists are shaking and he opens them with a shuddering exhale, wrapping his fingers around the handrims instead.

I think he may have a point but I keep quiet.

"You don't get to judge me over this. You don't know how it is…“ Ezra clenches his teeth. “That was MY brother there in the car. Do you-- do you think this is easy for me, huh? I’m not—This is not – It's fucking hard, Caroline. I had to make sure Benjamin is all right, bring him to my parents to... before I could..." He sighs, frustrated, his shoulders falling forward and all fight draining out of him all of a sudden. He turns the wheelchair away a fraction, not looking at me. "I lost my brother. Just... keep out of things you don't understand."

There is ringing silence for a while, both of us not moving.

"I know it's hard," I say lowly. 

Ezra winces.

"Don’t you think I of all people understand?"

I can see the moment when comprehension dawns on Ezra. He draws his hands through his tousled hair, avoiding my gaze.

Lucy pushes her nose into my flat hand and I scratch her behind the ears, not looking at Ezra when I say: “I was only marginally older than Benjamin when I lost my parents. I know how hard it will be for him. That's why you have to tell him. He's got a right to grieve."

Ezra rubs his eyes and sighs. "I know." He gives the wheelchair a short push and rolls in front of me toward the exit of the stable. Before he has come far he stops it again, swiveling around. "But not today, Caroline. Please. I'll tell him soon."

"Soon." I repeat and fix him with a stern gaze.

"Yes." Ezra's eyes are intensely on mine and he seems to exhale deeply. "I promise."

I follow Ezra outside, the push of his arms strong as he wheels himself over the gravel. We want to turn to the main building when Ezra stops the chair again. “Gas would be in the other barn.”


The inside of the other barn is dark and dusty. I follow Ezra into the dim interior. There is a green truck parked directly behind the large doors, and a brown trailer on the other side. The rest of the space is crammed with tools, smaller machinery and random stuff. I spot a buzz saw collecting dust in a corner and a heap of old tires in the other.

Ezra wheels closer to the truck, inspecting the side and wheels, and I climb up to the driver’s cabin, but the door is closed. I try to get a look in the interior through the dirty side window. It is a fairly new vehicle I notice and I cannot help but think it would be the perfect car to get out of here and take as much supplies with me in the trailer as possible.

“Where’s the key for that?” I ask Ezra.

Ezra frowns. “My father locks it away, usually. It cannot be short-circuited, it's something in the electronics... Anyway, there were problems with seasonal workers taking the truck for a ride, as far as I remember. Since then, he is strict with that.”

I hop back down. “Do your parents have gas stored somewhere here?”

Ezra has wheeled to the back of the barn, and the tires of his chair got stuck on wires and cables lying on the ground. “Yeah, usually somewhere back there…” he says, occupied with trying to run the wheels back and forth to get them free.

I step past him and move an old piece of fence and a rusty metal plane out of the way. They are heavy but no challenge for me and I clean my hands on my pants once I am done.

Indeed, an impressive number of gas containers is stacked at the far wall in the back. “Bingo!” I whisper.


“Huh?” I turn around.

“A little help, maybe?”

Although I am not in the mood, I have to suppress a small grin as my gaze falls upon Ezra. His efforts to free his wheels have caused the wire to only wrap tighter around the axis, a thick knot around the metal blocking the right wheel now. He tries to reach down but does not manage to get his fingers past the frame of the wheelchair from a sitting position and his furious scowl almost makes me laugh.

“How did you manage that?”

Ezra frowns at my gleeful expression. “Does it matter? Just get if off, okay?”

I cross my arms and keep standing where I am.

Ezra sighs and rolls his eyes. “Please?”

“Well look at you, you have manners!” I say but I kneel down to try and untangle the mess before Ezra’s face can get any darker. It is probably not to be recommended to make him even angrier than he already is.

“Jesus…” I have to get really close to Ezra, my cheek only inches from his thigh, and try to feel for the wires around the axis.

“I would appreciate if the chair was still intact afterward, though,” Ezra says as the wheelchair rattles a bit when I try to rip the wires off and Ezra's hands shoot to the handrims to keep it steady. He pointedly looks somewhere else than my head almost in his lap. “Needless to say a flat tire would kind of suck right now.”

“Yeah, figures.” I manage to rip away most of the blockage and then pluck the rest off with my fingers, careful not to poke the sharp edges into anything vulnerable. As my hand brushed against his right shin, his leg jumps a bit and he corrects the position of it with his hand cupping the knee.
I try not to let on how weirdly interesting I find that. “Almost done. Wait, don’t move the chair yet…”

I push the remaining wires and cables over the floor and out of Ezra’s way.

“Okay, if you back out like this you should be fine.”

Ezra wraps his hands around the handrims and looks over his shoulder at me while slowly wheeling back. I think we both know it would be faster if I just grabbed the handles at the back of his chair and pulled him out, but something tells me I do not even need to ask.

“You think your parents would give me some gas?” I ask as we walk back to the main building side by side.

Ezra shrugs, his arms pumping the wheels over the gravel. “I guess. Depends.”

“On what?”

Ezra chuckles drily. “What you give them in return.”

I stop.

Ezra turns one wheel, tilting his head up at me. “Yeah… Money is probably not valuable anymore… but anything else? Definitely.”

“Huh…” I scratch my head and try to think of anything of value in my possession. I have the jeep but Ezra’s parents already have the truck. I have a tent but they have a house. We have a bit of food, although technically part of that belongs to Ezra, and smaller possessions like my knife, the pistol with only few ammunition left or the cooker but apart from that? They have an entire barn full of stuff and I am not sure what I can give in exchange for the gas.

“You need to decide what you are willing to sacrifice in order to find your brother,” Ezra says and wheels past me.

I frown at his back, wondering what he means with that.

Ezra has already made his way to the stairs. He swivels the chair around and rolls with his back to the stairs until the wheels bump into the first one. Then he twists and grabs the railing with his left hand. His right comes over to the same side and turns the wheel back, causing the chair to climb up one step. His legs are jiggling a bit as the chair is bumped up and his knees fall to the side. The seat is tilted back, balancing on the back wheels, and the chair remains in its position when Ezra moves his left hand further up and repeats the process.

Although I have seen him doing this a few times by now I still find myself in awe at how he manages to climb stairs without causing a major accident. To me it looks nothing but short of dangerous. Ezra makes it seem like it requires barely any effort, but I can see the muscles bulge in the arm that is grabbing the railing and I know it must require strength and practice.

“Enjoying the view?” Ezra snaps, looking at me from the side, and I avert my eyes.

I hurry past him, pushing the door open. “Sorry,” I say a bit meekly.

Ezra has reached the top of the stairs, readjusts his boots on the footrest and turns the chair around. He scratches his neck. “And I am. Sorry, that is. For… you know… being a bit of a dick I guess. You are right with Benjamin, I should have told him. Should have told you where we were going, too. And… I never thanked you, I think. For what you did for Benjamin and for… for Helen.” He shudders a bit as he says her name. “So… um… thanks.”

He blinks up at me, brows indicating a small frown as if anticipating a rebuke. 

I release some of the tension in my back. “You were right with Benjamin, too. It is not my place to tell him.” I take in the delicious smell of food wafting outside through the open door in my back. “As for the rest… there’s nothing to thank me for. And I forgive you as long as your detours always end with warm food.” I grin.

Ezra visibly relaxes, his shoulders lowering and a rare smile flickers over his face as he wheels past me into a large corridor.

I follow him. “Your father never thought of building a ramp, huh?”

Ezra snickers, throwing a gaze back at me. “Jesus, no. I bet I would actually start walking again before that happens,” he says.

We enter a large kitchen, Ezra grabbing the doorframe to pull himself around the corner. Pots are steaming on the stove and there is something delicious in the oven as well. Ann and Benjamin are nowhere to be seen right now. Ezra wheels up to a place at the table’s head where there is no chair. He leans forward and across the table to grab two beers and pops the cap of them, offering one to me.

‘A drink to celebrate the ceasefire,’ I think and take the bottle

I sit on the chair next to Ezra. “Could you?” I ask. The beer is cold and delicious as it runs down my throat and for a moment I wish for nothing more than this second to last forever.

“Come again?”

“Uh… could you walk?”

Ezra places the bottle on the table. “I can, actually. With braces and crutches. It’s a hell of a lot of work and more or less completely useless in my opinion. But possible, yes.”

“And besides that?”

Ezra pats a still knee. “If there’s a chance I can actually walk again, one time?”

I nod.

Ezra shakes his head. “I’m basically dead from here downward,” he gestures at a line somewhere shortly above the height of his navel. “So no.” He grimaces. “Maybe when the rest dies as well… I will join the walking dead. That would be my only chance on ever walking again and not such a small one indeed.”

I nearly choke on my beer at the tasteless joke, a shiver running down my back, and Ezra laughs dirtily. I wonder if he is right, though, and if it is possible for zombies to walk when their bodies could not do it before. Maybe Ezra indeed has a point. If the damage is concerning the nerves and everything else still works, it might be possible. The thought is so disgusting it makes my stomach clench.

In that moment Ann and Benjamin enter, both with jars in their hands, and Lucy on their heels, panting happily. Ann’s eyes look red and puffed.

“Look, Ezra, we brought apple sauce from the cellar!” Benjamin beams at Ezra, balancing a jar on his uncle’s knee.

“Hm... delicious!” Ezra says and ruffles the boy’s hair.

“Don’t you two men want to lay the table?” Ann says, taking the jar from Ezra. “Benny, I will show you where the plates are.”

While the two set the plates and cutlery I join Ann at the stove. From what I see she made a thick stew and as she takes the lid off completely I smile. “It smells fantastic.”

Ann reciprocates the smile. She watches Benjamin fooling around with Ezra at the table and places a hand on my arm, stepping closer to me and lowering her voice. “Ezra told me what you did for Benjamin. We are forever grateful that you saved our grandson.”

I shake my head. “I only did what everyone would have done, Ann.” I pause. “I’m sorry for… for your younger son... and your daughter-in-law.” I nearly whisper, watching Benjamin.

Ann blinks, her kind eyes filling with tears again. “Thanks,” she says, squeezing my arm before letting go and checking the oven. “It’s terrible… truly terrible…”

“I'm sorry,” I repeat quietly and I feel terrible for bothering the family in times of grief but there is no choice for me. I stir the stew for a while without speaking. “Ann?”

The woman turns to me, eyes shimmering still.

“I am on my way south. I need to get to my brother.”

“Sure, my dear,” Ann says and smiles softly. “In times like these, family is the most important thing.”

I nod, my throat tight. “It’s… I do not have enough gas and… I saw that you have containers in the barn and thought… maybe I could borrow gas from you? Not all, of course, but enough to get me to a big city? I swear, I would pay you back if I could-”

Ann’s eyes grow larger and she pats my arm again. “Oh…” She smiles at me but it has lost its brightness. “Oh… my dear, I would love to help you out and send you on your way to meet your brother but you will have to ask my husband, Nathan. The containers are his.”

I swallow. “I understand. I just thought… maybe you could put in a good word for me?”

Ann nods. “Of course. Don't worry.” Then she turns and calls to Benjamin. “Benny, would you tell your grandpa that dinner is ready? He’s upstairs.”

I step to the window and look outside past the white curtains. The light is vanishing and night is approaching. The two barns are closed now, all openings shut tight.

“Have you had any attacks?” Ezra asks as soon as the boy is out of the kitchen.

Ezra’s mother wipes her hands on her apron and sighs, sinking down on a chair at the table. “Yes. We lost a few cows when we still let them outside. Now we make sure that everything is locked properly at nightfall.”

“Do they manage to get across the fence?” I ask.

Ezra’s mother nods. “It seems to keep them off for a while but they figure out a way to get across every time. We bolt ourselves in at night.”

“Don’t you think it would be a good idea for you to leave?” I ask.

“Where would we go?” A gruff voice asks from the door and everyone turns around.

Benjamin and Nathan have arrived. Nathan frowns as he enters the kitchen, his brown eyes piercing me. His eyebrows are nearly as bushy as his mustache and peppered with gray.

I startle a bit. “I… I don’t know… maybe south is-“

“South are only more people. More people means for them: more food,” Nathan says, sitting down at the table and helping himself to a beer. “Which means more of those godless creatures. Besides, the colder the better, I tell you that, girl. They are not made for the north.” He takes a huge swig from the bottle, places it back on the table with a clonk and wipes his mouth with the back of his head. “We have enough food to survive a few months on our own, don’t worry. In the end this will be our triumph, I am sure.”

I do not dare to disagree although to me it seems as if the zombies are not affected by the cold at all. If I were to take a guess, I would even say it slows down the rotting of the flesh and increases the time they can be mobile. But as I catch the grim face of Ezra’s father I decide to keep my mouth shut and nod instead. There are more important things than arguing over zombies.

Nathan grunts and addresses his wife. “Did you think of leaving meat for the dog?”

Ann nods and walks over to us with a bowl full of pieces of raw meat. Lucy is following her, eyes fixed on the bowl.

Nathan makes a satisfied sound, the sides of his lips lifting into a smile. “So, what do we have here?” he asks, taking the bowl from Ann.

“Uh… she’s a-” I start.

“Rhodesian Ridgeback, I can see that,” Nathan growls, patting Lucy’s head and scratching her behind the ears before letting his large hand glide over her gold brown back, along the line where the hair grows in a different direction than the rest. “Good girl. Are you hungry, beautiful?”

“Her name is Lucy,” I say, blinking a bit at the sudden display of affection from the old man. “And I guess she is awfully hungry, yes.”

Nathan's chuckle rumbles in his throat as he places the bowl on the floor to his feet. Lucy whines lowly, her tail wagging like crazy and turns her head to look at me.

“Go ahead, Lucy,” I say, grinning a bit despite myself and gesture to the bowl. “Thanks,” I say to Nathan and Ann. I hope they have enough food to spare something for the dog and I feel immediately terrible again.

Only one additional reason to leave as soon as possible. As soon as I have enough gas.

Lucy dives in and devours the food as if she has been starved for days. Which she is, I guess. 
I notice Ezra’s father watch her eat, satisfaction bright in his eyes. “Do you have a dog?” I ask him, timidly.

Nathan looks up. “I had…” His voice grows heavy. “She was a truly great one. Similar built. A mutt but who knows, maybe some of yours was in there as well.” He grimaces at me sadly.

I hesitate before continuing speaking. “Did she die?”

Nathan nods gravely.

“Was she old?”

“Not really…” Nathan grabs the beer bottle, knuckles white. “Killed by zombies two days ago,” he says, “Cowardly fuckers.”

I hold my breath. “I am very sorry, Nathan.”

Nathan takes another swig from the bottle and looks at me for the first time without a scowl. “Thanks. Caroline, right?”

“Yes,” I say and smile shyly. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Nathan grunts and nods his head to his wife. “What’s for dinner?”

“Oh, right!” Ann jumps up to check the pots on the stove.

Dinner is absolutely delicious, the stew is hot and strengthening and as desert Ann serves a sweet bread pudding with apple sauce that no one can seem to get enough of. I make conversation with Ezra’s father in the hopes I can get him inclined toward me. I need him in a good mood to ask him for the gas. Luckily he really loves dogs and seems to have taken a liking to Lucy, so we immediately find a topic to engage in.

“Her nose is amazing and her hearing is excellent. No mice could get past her in a twenty feet radius.”

Nathan nods approvingly. “Does she hunt?”

“The race is bread as hunting companions, yes. They find wildlife and keep it in check until the hunters shoot it down. Still… she is not trained as a hunting dog. That would kind of defy the purpose since I want to shoot animals with my camera, not kill. For that I need them to be as undisturbed as possible, so Lucy is trained to stay put. But she can show me if there is anything interesting going on around me, on which my human ears and nose would not pick up. That’s a major advantage as a wildlife photographer.”

“I can see that…” Nathan says and puts another load of bread pudding on his plate, plowing through it with his spoon.

“She’s quite protective,” Ezra says. He has been silent most of the time, eating twice the portion I have eaten so far and not falling back behind his father. “I saw her attack that zombie.”

“Yes…” I muse, eying Lucy who has finished her meal and is resting to my feet, tail whipping a bit as she hears my voice. “I didn’t know that trait of her yet.”

“You never came into dangerous situations out in the wild?” Nathan asks.

I shake my head and smile. Many people have that misconception. “Not dangerous like that. My job as a photographer is to know where the animals are… and to avoid confrontation. We are not the ones leaving food in a tent while camping in a bear area.”

The others on the table nod knowingly. Bears are not very common around here but it is still a concern.

“There are other dangers when you are out, alone. Getting hurt by accident, getting lost, not having enough water or food for example.”

“Did you ever get lost?” Benjamin asks, looking at me with awe. Ann has made sure the boy eats a huge portion and his cheeks are starting to grow rosy again.

I smile at him. “No. But I once got in a thunderstorm so severe, I had to abandon my tent and find shelter under some rocks. When the storm had abated, my tent was ripped apart and most of my equipment was gone, carried away with the wind, broken or soggy wet. It took me hours to take stock and get ready to leave and another two days without a tent and with only few provisions until I made it back to civilization.”

Ann shakes her head. “Oh my, that sounds frightening…”

“No!” Benjamin cheers, beaming and swinging his fork through the air. “That sounds super cool! I want to become a photographer when I am older, like Caroline. Can I?” He looks at Ezra who shrugs.

“I guess… sure. You would need a camera though,” Ezra says.

“Do you have one?”


“Ohhh…” Benjamin flings the fork on the table and leans his head in his hands, sighing deeply.

I get an idea. “You know what, Benjamin?” Originally I had wanted to leave as early as possible tomorrow, but I realize I still have a promise to fulfill. “I have a camera. Remember the surprise? What if we would go out and I would show you how to take photos, huh?”

Benjamin’s eyes grow big. “Oh yes!”

“Absolutely impossible,” Ann interjects at once. “Sorry, but it is too dangerous.” She folds her arms over her chest, staring at me resolutely.

“We wouldn’t stray far from the house,” I say, trying my best to change her mind. “We can take Lucy with us and we will go at noon. If you want we can even stay inside the barn with the cows.”

Benjamin has launched itself onto Ann’s arms. “Pleeease!? Please, Granny, please? I want to, so much!” Benjamin’s puppy-dog eyes would definitely break my heart.

Ann sighs and looks from Ezra to Nathan who shrugs. Finally she nods. Benjamin lets out a cry of victory that makes Lucy’s ears prick up.

I shake my head, laughing, and catch Ezra’s eye. He grins at me before returning his gaze to the plate.

“Good,” Ann says, claps her hands and starts to put the empty dishes together. “Ezra, you are going to sleep downstairs like always, I guess.”

Ezra nods. “’course.”

“Caroline, if you don’t mind you can sleep in Benjamin’s room. Usually...”

“Usually my parents sleep there, too!” Benjamin says, oblivious of Ann’s momentary struggle with composure. “I will show you to it!” He beams at me.

“Okay, thanks Benjamin,” I say. I give a nod to Ann. “I’ll help you-“

I want to reach for the empty pots on the table when there is a loud knock at the door.

Everyone in the room startles, even Lucy who jumps up and looks at me.

My mind is racing as to who would be outside in the darkness, knocking on the door. Zombies do not knock, I suppose.

Ezra is the first to move, wheeling silently over to the window. The shutters are closed but there are small slits between the wooden planks.

“All is dark…” Ezra whispers, leaning forward to squint outside. “I cannot see anything. Turn the lights off!”

I reach to the oil lamp above the table and turn it off. Immediately we are plunged in complete darkness, only the quickened breathing of the others indicating that we are not alone.

“What do we do?” Ann’s voice is low and fearful.

“Fuck… still cannot see anything,” Ezra murmurs.

“I will have a look who it is,” Nathan says gruffly and pushes up from the table.

There is a buzzing sound and the oil lamp is turned on again.

Nathan reaches into the corner behind the bench and retrieves an old Winchester, the lamp in the other hand. “They will get a nice greeting, those fuckers.”

I have my knife ready but the gun and the pistol are still in the jeep. Damn it!

A second knock rattles through the house and Ann yelps. Benjamin crawls into her lap, looking frightened.

Ezra wheels around the table, gesturing to them. “Ma, Benjamin, you two get upstairs, barricade yourself in when you must.”

Ann takes Benjamin’s hand and the two leave the room, feet scuttling up the wooden stairs.


“I’m staying,” I say firmly.

Nathan and Ezra both look at me darkly.

I stare right back. “You cannot make me go upstairs.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Ezra says.

“He’s right,” Nathan says before I can defend myself. “It’s too dangerous for the both of you. You stay here in the kitchen. Close the door.”

“No!” Ezra and I say together.

The third knock is a series of harsh bumps against the front door.

“Oh fuck it,” Ezra wheels past his father before the man can react and Nathan and I follow him only a second later.

The light of the oil lamp illuminates the heavy entrance door.

“Who’s there?” Ezra says, his voice low with a dangerous edge. “We are armed.”

“It’s me!” A muffled male voice comes from the other side of the door, sounding panicked. “Jim! Nathan, are you there? Is this Ezra, I-”

“Jim?” Nathan asks, frowning, and points the gun at the door.

The name jostles something in my memory.

“Yes, Jim! Come on, you know me, Nathan! Please…”

Ezra and Nathan look at each other.

“Please, let me in, I think they are on my heels!”

Nathan nods, lowers the gun and moves to the door. Ezra blocks the way with his chair and raises a hand.

“Wait!” he hisses. “You don’t know what-”

“I recognize the voice,” Nathan says impatiently, trying to lean past his son. Ezra barely comes up to his chest height. “It is him.”

Ezra’s hands are wrapped tightly around the handrims. “So do I. Don’t let him in! Dad, listen to me, I-”

Nathan huffs. “Son, stop that nonsense.”

“Fuck, they are close, I can hear them. Hurry up!” The voice squeaks from the other side of the thick wood.

Lucy’s nails click on the floor as she walks up to me, leaning against my knee and huffing lowly. Nathan and Ezra both turn around to look at me.


"It’s okay. Let him in."
"Don’t let him in.”


  1. Jim is the photography dude, right? Hmmm...

    1. Yes, right. I don't think he knows a thing about photography, though. He just knows the surroundings and the wildlife. I picture him as the dude who regularly comes upon "roadkill".

  2. Wow wow wow!!! I don't know how I'm going to wait another week to see what happens! Incredible! Also, loved when Ezra got his wheels tangled ;)

    1. Haha, sorry to make you wait :) Thanks for your support!

  3. Superb! What a suspense! I hope Caroline doesn't have to trade Lucy for gas. She already saved their grandson, isn't that enaugh in exchange.

  4. Thank you so much for the long chapter! If this is possible at all, but the story gets even better with each update, and some points become slowly clear... Can't wait for more!

  5. proselytized.... I needed to use my translator first. But it fits. You definitely proselytized me and I started the watch the walking dead (not joking here) and have now more background knowledge for your zombie story :-)
    Anyways, the walking dead story doesn't grip me like your story does. I can't wait for more from EZRA.

    1. Oh that's so great :D Thanks for making me laugh.
      Oh yes, I never fully got into the TV show either, but I may be picky (I'm trying with Vikings, out of obvious reasons, but... huh...). I really dig the walking dead video game though. There are walkthroughs on YouTube, if you want to check it out.

  6. Nope, Jim has been turned. Don't let him in. I really loved the tangled tires too. Tongue twister. Can't wait for next week.

  7. I really like this story. If she goes off on Ezra one time though, I'd support it. He's never honest! Update soon!