The call for brains escaped Bob’s mouth. He remembered the good old days before the blight had swept the realm. Brains were everywhere, plentiful if a bit pickled in the alcohol and first and second hand cigarette smoke. Over time the smoke for the most part cleared, but then the new blight began to spread. More and more zombies were created, leaving him starved for the brains he craved. Still Bob soldiered on, looking for that most precious commodity. Those damn screens have destroyed so many brains, leaving Bob to lecture at those zombies instead of teaching. Brains. Brains! BRAINS!
Another dismembered head rolled by as Conner sneezed. Being allergic to zombies was great for knowing when they were near, but fighting them, not so much. “Why not grass,” he thought using his chainsaw to mutilate another animated corpse. His itchy eyes watered so bad a dagger wielding zombie almost struck home. A bit more chainsaw work and it was no more. And the headache was almost too much. One of those almost migraines that felt like his brain was going to split in two. Which is why when the axe wielding zombie cleaved his skull, Collin almost felt relief.