Zombies 4 Quotes

You'd be surprised how many people in the modern age no longer fear zombies as much as teletubies.

You must have had such a great childhood with a man like that for your father. (Delphine) Yeah. All puppy dogs and rainbows and those weird furry people with padded coat hangers on their heads that look like space aliens on acid. (Jericho) You mean the Teletubbies? (Berith) The fact that you know what they're called, Berith, truly scares me. (Jericho) As a demon of torture, it behooves me to know all things that are deeply annoying. You'd be amazed how many people in the modern age no longer fear zombies as much as Teletubbies. (Berith) Not really. I'd rather battle a brain-eating zombie any day than hear them sing. (Jericho)

Hope flickered in my chest. 'Do you think they'll stop this... zombie-apocalypse-in-the-making if they realize I'm back on Team Not-Insane?

1. Organize before they rise! 2. They feel no fear, why should you? 3. Use your head: cut off theirs. 4. Blades don't need reloading. 5. Ideal protection = tight clothes, short hair. 6. Get up the staircase, then destroy it. 7. Get out of the car, get onto the bike. 8. Keep moving, keep low, keep quiet, keep alert! 9. No place is safe, only safer. 10. The zombie may be gone, but the threat lives on.

I loved Jack because of every little thing about him. The way he laughed, the way he made me smile, the way he'd stay up until nine in the morning watching zombie movies he'd seen a hundred times, and the way he could never hold a grudge. I loved him because I loved him, not because it was fate or destiny or in my blood, We had chosen each other, and that felt more powerful and more magical.

We don’t need a cure,” the other zombie said. “That’s right,” Scapegrace nodded. “We’re happy the way we are.” “Happy with the power,” Scapegrace clarified. “Very happy, just the two of us, and there’s nothing wrong with us either. It’s very natural in fact. Nothing to be ashamed of—” “Thrasher,” said Scapegrace, “shut up.

Scars speak for you. They say you're strong, and you've survived something that might have killed others.

Let your light shine, never look back and live as if today is your last day...because it just might be.

Real love never fails, never fades, and the greatest expression of it is giving.

Sweet pea, you are my favorite hello and my hardest goodbye, and I don't want to go a day without you. Consider that your official invitation

I feel like I'm forgetting something. Vyrus. Clans. Zombies. Stay out of the sun. Don't get shot. Abandon your life. Drink blood to survive. No, guess that pretty much covers it.

The only sure way to fail forever is to give up.

You mean Teletubbies? (Berith) The fact that you know what they’re called, Berith, truly scares me. (Jericho) As a demon of torture, it behooves me to know all things that are deeply annoying. You’d be amazed how many people in the modern age no longer fear zombies as much as Teletubbies. (Berith) Not really. I’d rather battle a brain-eating zombie any day than hear them sing. (Jericho)

But if you want to know who the scariest person in the group is, look for the one who’s been fighting zombies without smearing her eyeliner.

That was what separated us from the zombies.

Fifteen Ways to Stay Alive 1. Offer the wolves your arm only from the elbow down. Leave tourniquet space. Do not offer them your calves. Do not offer them your side. Do not let them near your femoral artery, your jugular. Give them only your arm. 2. Wear chapstick when kissing the bomb. 3. Pretend you don’t know English. 4. Pretend you never met her. 5. Offer the bomb to the wolves. Offer the wolves to the zombies. 6. Only insert a clean knife into your chest. Rusty ones will cause tetanus. Or infection. 7. Don’t inhale. 8. Realize that this love was not your trainwreck, was not the truck that flattened you, was not your Waterloo, did not cause massive haemorrhaging from a rusty knife. That love is still to come. 9. Use a rusty knife to cut through most of the noose in a strategic place so that it breaks when your weight is on it. 10. Practice desperate pleas for attention, louder calls for help. Learn them in English, French, Spanish: May Day, Aidez-Moi, Ayúdame. 11. Don’t kiss trainwrecks. Don’t kiss knives. Don’t kiss. 12. Pretend you made up the zombies, and only superheroes exist. 13. Pretend there is no kryptonite. 14. Pretend there was no love so sweet that you would have died for it, pretend that it does not belong to someone else now, pretend like your heart depends on it because it does. Pretend there is no wreck — you watched the train go by and felt the air brush your face and that was it. Another train passing. You do not need trains. You can fly. You are a superhero. And there is no kryptonite. 15. Forget her name.

Her mouth has always lacked any type of filter, a problem exacerbated by her refusal to lie about anything. Two qualities guaranteed to turn every conversation into a battlefield.

I’m glad to know you have a sense of humor.” “I’m a vampire, not a zombie.” “Good to know.

It saddened me that sometimes shopping was far more perilous than dealing with zombies and vampires.

The boy I was craved Kat. The man I am craves Milla.

Lipstick?" He arched a brow. "I'm on the hunt for my perfect shade," I respond, deadpan. "Ditch the magenta. Your olive skin screams for rose." His deadpan is better than mine.

And Lord knows I’d pissed off enough people in my life that ‘friendly fire’ was always a personal concern of mine.

And the peace! The most magnificent peace. I lose myself in a place where time no longer exists and nothing is impossible. I can do anything I imagine. I can fight and win any war. Nothing frightens me, because I know I'm here for a reason; and I'm not alone. I have friends in high places. Friends here. Friends up there. Victory is mine.

I stride to the ring where Cole and River are still hammering at each other. I remove my shirt and drop it to the floor. "Woo-hoo," Ali calls. "Take it all off.

You aren't afraid of needles. I see one, and I start crying like a baby." "I've never seen you cry." "It's on the inside.

Remember, you don’t have to outrun the zombie. You just have to outrun your friends.

Then the Skopamish showed up. Their chests heaving, rotting eyes like dull raisins in their skulls. Their eyes found mine like a witching wand seeking water.

I suppose I knew on an intellectual level that graves weren't especially made for getting out of. I mean, you start with a hermetically sealed casket and then you dump six feet of dirt on top of it. Over time the earth gets compacted, which can't make it easy to dig through. So even if you're a very angry and determined zombie, you've kind of got your work cut out for you just escaping from the grave. Which was, I suppose, why we got hit with an initial wave of zombie bugs, birds and rodents. I bet some people would say if you've never picked undead mosquitoes out of your teeth, you've never lived. Under that definition, I'd be just as happy to have not lived, thanks.

We can hold them off," Shudder said. "What do you think, Skulduggery?" "Should be fun," Skulduggery responded. "Valkyrie here has never held off a horde of zombies before. It'll be a good experience for her." "Oh, joy," she muttered.

Roses are Red Violets are Blue Zombies are Dead And soon you be too - Frosty, Zombie Slayer

The zombie is the angle. You want people to get to the rest of what you just said? Embrace the zombie. We live in a society of self-absorbed, unaware drones desensitized to the suffering of others.

Do you think they’ll stop this… zombie-apocalypse-in-the-making if they realize I’m back on Team Not-Insane?” No one really looked hopeful, but Aiden smiled at me, and I knew he did it to make me feel better, because it was what I wanted to hear. It took everything in me not to cross the room and jump him.

She's beauty and she's the beast, rolled into one.

Five inches! That’s awesome!” I said with jubilation. “Maybe where you come from,” BT said. “Did he just make a dick joke?” Alex asked.

You're just another one of those disconnected, easily angered zombies who haven't really worked a day in their lives. Always eager to tell other people how to live and what to say. Posting pictures of their food every single day because that's a fucking achievement for them. Preparing a meal. You know, that thing you're supposed to do so you don't starve to death?

We all have a plan, those of us who love George Romero and Resident Evil. We all keep a sword under our bed, or a chainsaw in our garage. We know the quickest way to the mall, and we practise our stealthy moves when no-one else around is watching. We know where we'll get food, water and gasoline, and where we'll stay until society gets back on its feet.   We know the zombies are coming.

I keeled over sideways. The world turned fluffy, bleached of all color. Nothing hurt anymore. I was dimly aware of Diana’s face hovering over me, Meg and Hazel peering over the goddess’s shoulders. “He’s almost gone,” Diana said. Then I was gone. My mind slipped into a pool of cold, slimy darkness. “Oh, no, you don’t.” My sister’s voice woke me rudely. I’d been so comfortable, so nonexistent. Life surged back into me—cold, sharp, and unfairly painful. Diana’s face came into focus. She looked annoyed, which seemed on-brand for her. As for me, I felt surprisingly good. The pain in my gut was gone. My muscles didn’t burn. I could breathe without difficulty. I must have slept for decades. “H-how long was I out?” I croaked. “Roughly three seconds,” she said. “Now, get up, drama queen.” She helped me to my feet. I felt a bit unsteady, but I was delighted to find that my legs had any strength at all. My skin was no longer gray. The lines of infection were gone. The Arrow of Dodona was still in my hand, though he had gone silent, perhaps in awe of the goddess’s presence. Or perhaps he was still trying to get the taste of “Sweet Caroline” out of his imaginary mouth. I beamed at my sister. It was so good to see her disapproving I-can’t-believe-you’re-my-brother frown again. “I love you,” I said, my voice hoarse with emotion. She blinked, clearly unsure what to do with this information. “You really have changed.” “I missed you!” “Y-yes, well. I’m here now. Even Dad couldn’t argue with a Sibylline invocation from Temple Hill.” “It worked, then!” I grinned at Hazel and Meg. “It worked!” “Yeah,” Meg said wearily. “Hi, Artemis.” “Diana,” my sister corrected. “But hello, Meg.” For her, my sister had a smile. “You’ve done well, young warrior.” Meg blushed. She kicked at the scattered zombie dust on the floor and shrugged. “Eh.” I checked my stomach, which was easy, since my shirt was in tatters. The bandages had vanished, along with the festering wound. Only a thin white scar remained. “So…I’m healed?” My flab told me she hadn’t restored me to my godly self. Nah, that would have been too much to expect. Diana raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not the goddess of healing, but I’m still a goddess. I think I can take care of my little brother’s boo-boos.” “Little brother?” She smirked.

Inside the church, the bondsmaids were walking slowly down the aisle, with the little petal girls. Trinity turned to give Mimi her last words of motherly advice: 'Walk straight. Don't slouch. And for heavens's sake, smile! It's your bonding!?' Then she too walked through the door and down the aisle. The door shut behind her, leaving Mimi alone. Finally, Mimi heard the orchestra play the first strains of the 'Wedding March.' Wagner. Then the ushers opened the doors and Mimi moved to the threshold. There was an appreciative gasp from the crowd as they took in the sight of Mimi in her fantastic dress. But instead of acknowledging her triumph as New York?s most beautiful bride, Mimi looked straight ahead, at Jack, who was standing so tall and straight at the altar. He met her eyes and did not smile. 'Let's just get this over with.' His words were like an ice pick to the heart. He doesn't love me. He has never loved me. Not the way he loves Schuyler. Not the way he loved Allegra. He has come to every bonding with this darkness. With this regret and hesitation, doubt and despair. She couldn't deny it. She knew her twin, and she knew what he was feeling, and it wasn't joy or even relief. What am I doing? "Ready" Forsyth Llewellyn suddenly appeared by her side. Oh, right, she remembered, she had said yes when Forsyth had offered to walk her down the aisle. Here goes nothing. As if in a daze, Mimi took his arm, Jack's words still echoing in her head. She walked, zombie-like, down the aisle, not even noticing the flashing cameras or the murmurs of approval from the hard-to-impress crowd.

But she knows, now, there’s no escape from the monsters. They’ll always be there; you just choose to live with them or not.

Apparently the Ministerium Tenebrae had decided to conquer the region using the unusual twin-pronged attack of zombies and avant-garde artwork.

He was still cute… in a gross kind of way, and now I had a chicken zombie on my hands. Well, I was stuck with him. Nobody else was going to want to adopt a zombie—even a fluffy zombie.

What's your name?" Scapegrace asked. "Gerald," said the man. Scapegrace pondered. Gerald the zombie just didn't have that fear-inducing ring to it. "I'm going to call you Thrasher," he said.

I heard a low growl and realized it was coming from my own throat. Fuck the fear and fuck the insecurities. I was worth fighting for. Every woman was worth fighting for. Didn't matter if they were trash or addicts or rich or popular. Didn't matter if they dressed like a homeless waif, or in tight skirts and heels, or in jeans and flannel. No one deserved to feel hopeless and worthless the way this goddamn asshole wanted me to feel and, I had no doubt, made other girls feel.

Meg slashed through the last of Tarquin’s minions. That was a good thing, I thought distantly. I didn’t want her to die, too. Hazel stabbed Tarquin in the chest. The Roman king fell, howling in pain, ripping the sword hilt from Hazel’s grip. He collapsed against the information desk, clutching the blade with his skeletal hands. Hazel stepped back, waiting for the zombie king to dissolve. Instead, Tarquin struggled to his feet, purple gas flickering weakly in his eye sockets. “I have lived for millennia,” he snarled. “You could not kill me with a thousand tons of stone, Hazel Levesque. You will not kill me with a sword.” I thought Hazel might fly at him and rip his skull off with her bare hands. Her rage was so palpable I could smell it like an approaching storm. Wait…I did smell an approaching storm, along with other forest scents: pine needles, morning dew on wildflowers, the breath of hunting dogs. A large silver wolf licked my face. Lupa? A hallucination? No…a whole pack of the beasts had trotted into the store and were now sniffing the bookshelves and the piles of zombie dust. Behind them, in the doorway, stood a girl who looked about twelve, her eyes silver-yellow, her auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was dressed for the hunt in a shimmering gray frock and leggings, a white bow in her hand. Her face was beautiful, serene, and as cold as the winter moon. She nocked a silver arrow and met Hazel’s eyes, asking permission to finish her kill. Hazel nodded and stepped aside. The young girl aimed at Tarquin. “Foul undead thing,” she said, her voice hard and bright with power. “When a good woman puts you down, you had best stay down.” Her arrow lodged in the center of Tarquin’s forehead, splitting his frontal bone. The king stiffened. The tendrils of purple gas sputtered and dissipated. From the arrow’s point of entry, a ripple of fire the color of Christmas tinsel spread across Tarquin’s skull and down his body, disintegrating him utterly. His gold crown, the silver arrow, and Hazel’s sword all dropped to the floor. I grinned at the newcomer. “Hey, Sis.

I forced my weary body up from the ground, my eyes burning with rage. I'd had enough of nearly dying. I'd had enough of secrets and mysteries. I was filled to the brim with pain and misery. It had taken its toll on me. It was hard to hold on to the very things that made you human, when there was nothing good left inside of you. In fact, I no longer felt human. I didn't feel anything except anger. It was time to find Kellan.

Noise in Zombie town was like throwing a bunch of chum into the water off your surfboard.  You were summoning man eaters to the location you were hanging out in.  Not smart unless you were sitting up in a nice big boat with a spear gun.

Who knows what adventure we might find here?" Drizzt said excitedly. "Who knows what secrets might be unveiled to us?" "Adventure?" Dunkin asked incredulously, looking to the carnage along the beach, and to the zombies still frozen in the water. "Reward?" he added with a chuckle. "Punishment, more likely, though I have done nothing to harm you, any of you!" "We are here to unveil a mystery," Drizzt said, as though that fact should have piqued the man's curiosity, "To learn and to grow. To live as we discover the secrets of the world about us.

I read this in a book about hauntings.” “I thought you said this wouldn’t be scary?” “It’s not really,” Gary said. “But by its definition ‘haunting’ is a scary thing.” “It’s not.” “You know, because I’m pretty maxed out already with this whole zombie thing. I don’t need another genre to keep me awake at night.

I grabbed a robe and a fireplace poker and headed down the stairs at a snail's pace. I was sure I loved him, but I wasn’t prepared to be brutally murdered to save a man of his size. He was on his own. Unless of course, it was a mob of uncompromising zombies. Then I might have attempted to fight beside him. I shook my head, nearly laughing at this point.

open, hinges broken, wood shards raining all around

They may be the water, but you are the boulder that guides their path, and in return they too, shape you.

Pinned under the air that grates like a claw Every time I look up to the sky I learn that I am trapped in this world If only that sky would crumble and fall I could fly to anywhere

Pretty lady. Why are you crying? My mom says crying makes your asscarrots run,” Angel said.

A pissed-off woman was always a good ally.

I know my imagination can be like a three-year-old on Red Bull and still I feed it.

If the shit hits the fan, unplug it before it gets all over the place.

This soul has no inherent stain except for the one you have bestowed upon it, as the Book of Revelations states, you have no claim on this soul and will relinquish all rights to it.

I replaced the elbow with my knee and grabbed his throat as I knelt on top of him. Then reached my other hand to grab hold of his balls. A part of me wish I could bring myself bite his damn cock off. But eew.

Are those chocolate chip?'' Cole reaches her first and claims one. ''Oh, my godness.'' Nana sets the tray aside and coos the guy. ''Cole, dear, you have a boulder-size knot on your jaw.'' ''River did it.'' Cole smirks at the guy. ''And he insulted my mom. And my dad.'' ''River Marks.'' Nana shakes her head, as if her heart is acually breaking. ''How could you be so rough? And so insensitive!'' River glares at Cole before bowing his head. ''I'm sorry, Nana.'' ''The human body is like a flower. Treat it well, and it will bloom.'' She approaches the ring and extends two cookies. River and I accept with eager thanks. ''Let's be kind to each other and keep our punches away from the face and groin.'' ''Yes, ma'am,'' we say in unison. Then of course, we devour the offering as if we've never tasted sugar. ''Good, good.'' She brushes the crumbs from her fingers. ''I'll leave you kids to your practice.'' She kisses Ali, then Cole, and leaves. ''Are you a rose?'' River sneers at Cole. ''Or a lilly?'' ''Orchid. And your jealousy is showing.'' Cole responds.

Christ was sent not to mend wounded people or wake sleepy people or advise confused people or inspire bored people or spur on lazy people or educate ignorant people, but to raise dead people. ... we can vent our fleshly passions by breaking all the rules, or we can vent our fleshly passions by keeping all the rules, but both ways of venting the flesh still need resurrection. We can be immoral dead people, or we can be moral dead people. Either way, we're dead. The mercy of God reaches down and rinses clean not only obviously bad people but fraudulently good people, both of whom equally stand in need of resurrection. God is rich in mercy. He doesn't withhold mercy from some kinds of sinners while extending it to others. because mercy is who he is - "being rich in mercy" - his heart gushes forth mercy to sinners one and all. His mercy overcomes even the deadness of our souls and the hollowed-out, zombie-like existence that we are all naturally born into. The mercy of Ephesians 2:4 does not seem far off and abstract when we feel the weight of our sin.

I’m going to make this slow, Talbot,” Durgan said while grinding his fist into his palm. “The slower the better,” I told him. “You’re fucking nuts!” he yelled to me, clearly confused at my answer. “Nucking futs,” I said.  “What is wrong with him?” Durgan asked BT as if he was going to get a valid response. “Hopped up on bath salts,” BT said. “What are you talking about?” Durgan asked. These were not the responses he was expecting to receive and it was throwing him off his game. “Bath salts,” Gary said. “They’re all the rage in Paris, haven’t you ever tried them?” “Paris is gone you idiots!” Durgan screamed. “Oh, my poor pet,” Eliza said coming up behind Durgan. “So strong in body, yet not in mind.

Bob came back just in time to see us getting ready to leave. “O-oh, h-hey, I’m back from the restroom. D-did you find a volunteer already? Oh, okay, darn, I-I’m too late...Good luck out there…” said Bob nervously. “Oh, Bob…” I replied. Cindy and I exited the mayor’s house and headed towards the nearby trench. From there we dug tunnels towards the giant cube. “Hey, Cindy!” I yelled through the dirt wall tunnel. “Yeah?” she answered. “If you need anything just yell, ‘kay? I’m only a few feet away.” She laughed. “Oh, you’re worried about me, Steve?” “Of course! I care about you.” “Y-you do…?” I blushed. “A-ahem…I meant I care about your well-being.” “A-ah…right,” she said shyly. We proceeded to dig and placed the items until nearly sunrise with no incident. Then suddenly I heard a sharp scream coming through the dirt. AHHHHH!!!! I smashed through the dirt wall to find Cindy cornered by a brain-hungry zombie. “No worries, Cindy! I got you.” I pulled out my stone sword and drove it into the zombie. Raggggghhhhhh! I whacked it a few more times until it dropped some rotten flesh. “Whew! Thanks for saving me, Steve. I’ve never seen a zombie so up close before. They are actually quite stinky.” I laughed. “No problem. I’m here for you, Cindy.” She smiled. “The sun will be up soon, we should probably head back,” I said. She nodded. I stayed in her tunnel and led the way back. On the way back, we encountered a baby zombie. That thing was lightning quick. The tunnel was narrow, so I couldn’t really maneuver anywhere. No circle strafing technique for me. Suddenly, I heard Cindy scream from behind me. I turned around to see another zombie behind her. It must have fallen through the holes we made topside. Oh, no! We’re trapped with nowhere to go! This isn’t good, I thought to myself.

* * * Back in my room at the Four Seasons, I gave them the grisly details. Not too grisly. Pixie didn’t need to hear that, and everyone else had a damn good idea of what Coop was going through. “That kind of zombie,” Margaux mused, “is easy to raise up, if you know what you’re doing. Even easier to put down. Remember those soul traps Lauren passed out to her followers? The little leather pouches? Same thing, it’s just that Coop’s own body is the pouch. Force his mouth open, his soul flies free.” Pixie sat beside her at the end table by the window, powering up her laptop. She glanced at Margaux over the screen. “That kind? How many kinds of zombies are there?” “There’s the kind that eat people, the kind that don’t eat people…” Margaux’s voice trailed off as she thought it over. “Two. Two kinds. Plenty of variations, but when you’re looking at a dead man walkin’ your way, that’s the one question you need answered fast.

Like my best buddy, Zeke (the zombie) says, we learn many things from our mistakes.

To get them out of the way, he had already pinned up his posters on the narrow strips of wall between each of the cupola’s windows. One of them was a movie poster for a Friday the 13th movie, with a full-body shot of the hockey-masked Jason Voorhees coming at you with a machete. Another depicted the cast of the TV show The Walking Dead, with the character Rick standing on top of a school bus aiming his giant revolver. Romero’s original black-and-white Night of the Living Dead. The popular zombie game Left 4 Dead 2.

He has waiting for the leader to get poofed somehow.

I learnt it in school. You should have too.

Mom had planted both wheat seeds and sugar cane, taking care to put them in nice, even rows, and stood back to admire her work, dusting off her hands. “It looks pretty good to me!” With that task finished, Mom went into one of the empty houses, to see if she could find anything else to plant. She was disappointed, though. The house was barren- hardly anything in it at all.  She went through each house and discovered that every single one was pretty much stripped bare. No belongings, no decorations, no furniture. Ethan had been wrong about how much stuff there was in the town. Elijah was going to have to stop burning things for warmth!  Mom had been searching through houses for a while with no luck, so she decided to check on the garden. A smile spread across her face when saw the wheat had already grown in! She could get used to ultra-fast-growing plants. With a skip in her step, she went to find the villagers. The double-E’s were outside their house examining their broken front door. It hung off its hinges, and an entire piece the size of a dog was just missing. Elijah threw his arms in the air. “I don't know how to fix a door!” “Me either,” Ethan said while he scratched his head, “but we have to figure it out. If we don't have doors, the zombies will just come right in and eat us.”  “I can help,” Mom said. The mayors jumped, startled.  “Don’t sneak up on us like that!” Elijah said.

Deeply rooted in Celtic tradition, folklore, and mythology, fairies occupy a unique space within the realm of mythical creatures. Unlike iconic horror figures like vampires, werewolves, and zombies, fairies aren’t typically categorized as outright malevolent beings. In fact, their nature is multifaceted, as they are just as likely to grant wishes and bestow blessings as they are to mete out malicious retribution.

He is good at it,” Mortimer said. “Just more good will to all and less death head stares on the details, I think.” He paused. “Was there a sea serpent fighting a unicorn skeleton on that?” Amelia snorted. “So you didn’t spot the zombie centaurs trampling the pixies? Ugh. He’ll grow out of it. I hope.

Zombies are of limited use, whereas puppets are invaluable.

Greg was proud of his new ninja skills, but he never would have wanted to display them by beating up a fake zombie.

Next thing I know, everybody at the table starts puking.

It landed on the ground with a loud thud, sliding to a stop by Dirtymud’s feet. The donkey shook his head and snorted, then sat on the flailing zombie which poofed away instantly.

I tell you the only real mystery in life is why every woman on this planet isn't a lesbian.

I’ve never seen a zombie so up close before. They are actually quite stinky.

He had created perhaps the only distraction powerful enough to save us: a herd of zombie cats

Sure,” he says. “And how about we wait in here for a while, see if we piss off Brett enough that he’ll ditch us for Ryke or Rose?” “I like that idea.” “Yeah?” I nod. “And maybe a virus will infect everyone, turning them into zombies, and when we leave the bathroom, the bookstore will be completely deserted.” “Nice,” he says, “but I’d rather not be inserted into the plot of 28 Days Later.” Damn. He’s good. “I love you,” I suddenly say. I mean it. Because who else would stay in a bookstore bathroom with me, just to hide out for a little while. Definitely not Rose. Maybe Daisy. Ryke would rather die, I’m sure. And Connor can never be added into any equation without hurting my head. So that leaves Lo. Just Lo.

Zombies," Lillian said, and then I heard the screams coming from downstairs.

Holy fuck, Remy King, how have you been?

The dead have existed for as long as the living, give or take a few years. But what good has that done them?

Why is it we always have the best one-liners for times when they are not needed, but never for when they are?

Stand not before me and weep. Let not your wails of mourning fill the air around me. For from this life’s suffering I am free. Soon, all will join me and we will rejoice in our victory.

Courage is not a goal set in the dark throes of desperation. It’s the need to survive. It’s the need to push through the fears and find the strength to face the perils ahead. It’s not a brass ring to be claimed or a trophy to boast over. It’s the personal level of discomfort we all must face when no outstretched arm is there to help you.” Helena Hawthorn

Truth does not like to be ignored. She will wait until you think you are safe before creeping up on you with a jagged blade.

Table of Contents 1. Meet the Heroes 2. How Hot Was It? 3. I Scream, You Scream 4. U.F.O. Sure-Burt 5. Out-of-This-World Flavors 6. Villainous Vegetables 7. Eat Your Ice Cream 8. The Deep Brain-Freeze 9. Zombies, Zombie Everywhere 10. Spreading the Freeze 11. Robo-Cone Robots 12. Lost in Space 13. No Earthlings Allowed 14. Scoop de Loop 15. Plan Zero Degrees 16. Snow Cone Cannons 17. Zoë’s Antidote 18. Heroes Again Heroes A2Z #2 Special Preview Bowling Over Halloween 1. Meet the Heroes (Again!) 2. Cider Mill Thrills 3.

I am not a perfect man; I do not claim to be. I am rife with shortcomings and my own sets of insecurities, but somehow Tracy has always been able to bring my better qualities to the fore. For twenty-three years she has been the vital piece that allows me to function correctly in a dysfunctional society.

Day One – T-Minus four hours before departure – Talbot Journal Entry 2

Michael?” Eliza asked again. “What?” I said testily. “Oh. No, there are no surprises, our original agreement is in effect.” “You won’t mind then if I send some of my army in to verify that?” she asked. “You sound awfully frightened for being the Lord of All You Survey,” I rang out.

I’d rather go out like the Bon Jovi song.” I looked at him questioningly then asked, “What? Livin’ on a Prayer?” “No, dumbass…Blaze of Glory.

I was in the midst of a very uneventful guard watch when I first heard the shuffling noise. It was so faint I thought I might be imagining it. It could have been a rat or even one of our party with a particularly nasty itch. That was, of course, until I saw a shadow play under the door to the apartment. Something was out there. Now the true question, was it alive or dead? There was no peephole through which to look, and if somehow Sir Licks-A-Lot had made the journey I might have finally slipped over the edge I was holding onto so precariously.

Lucy just took her hand and smacked herself in the forehead with it. I think that meant she was constipated. So, I just left her alone in my room to do her duty.

the five stages of zombie grief: denial, acceptance, hunger, more hunger, and knock-knock jokes.

Here’s a sampling I made from the usual suspects (print, TV, radio, magazines). Zombies on the left, purgatives on the right, word counts in parentheses. Accommodation The theater has seating accommodation for 600. (7) The theater seats 600. (4) Activity They enjoyed recreational activity. (4) They liked games. (3) The king agreed to limited exploration activity. (7) The king agreed to limited exploration. (6) Basis He agreed to play on an amateur basis. (8) He agreed to play as an amateur. (7) They accepted employment on a part-time basis. (7) They accepted part-time work. (4)

I have come to learn that there is no great manifest destiny, there is no universal order. Chaos will always reign supreme. There is no more order to the world than the falling of a leaf in a stiff fall breeze. That it will fall eventually is a truth, but which route it will take and where it will land are the great mysteries that evade us all. 

I heard some kids talking about how everybody is picking teams to be a part of. They

investment

The computer monitor was really big. It looked a lot like my cousin.

The sound of breaking glass caught Sybil’s attention. She glanced over her shoulder. Three, or maybe four zombies had managed to enter Nightbird. Heat flushed through her body. She narrowed her eyes. In the background, an explosion shook the ground. Dirt rained down, followed by heat—Jack had just used C-4 to blow up a car. Six zombies were on fire. She decided not to stick around.

I wanted to be a spy,” Olga said, shrugging. “I applied to the CIA. I was turned down. I did not meet the psychological profile. Oppositional Defiance Disorder. Basically, I have a hard time taking orders from idiots.” “Don’t think of me as an idiot and I won’t give you an idiotic order,” Sophia said. “But if I give you one, you’d better do it. Because it’s probably going to mean surviving or dying.” “You I don’t mind,” Olga said. “Or I wouldn’t have joined your crew. Don’t ask me about Nazar. So I was in Spain with the troupe. When the Plague hit, they shut down travel. And all my guns were in America. In a zombie apocalypse. I was quite upset.” “You should have seen Faith when they told her she had to be disarmed in New York,” Sophia said. “Then they gave her a taser and that was mistake. What kind of guns?” “I like that your family prefers the AK series,” Olga said. “I really do think it’s superior to the M16 series in many ways. Much more reliable. They say it is less accurate but that is at longer ranges. The round is not designed for long range.” “I can hit at a thousand meters with my accurized AK,” Sophia said. “It’s a matter of knowing the ballistics. It’s not real powerful at that range, but try doing the same thing with an M4. I’ll wait.” “Oh, jeeze, you two,” Paula said. “Get a room.” “So continue with how you got on the yacht,” Sophia said. “We don’t want our cook getting all woozy with gun geeking.” “We were called by the agency and asked if anyone wanted to ‘catch a ride’ on a yacht,” Olga said. “When they said who owned the boat… I nearly said no. We all knew Nazar. Or at least of him. Not a nice man, as you might have noticed. We knew what we were getting into. But then we were told he had vaccine… ” she shrugged again. “Accepting Nazar’s offer was perhaps not the worst decision I have made in my life. I survived. Not how I would have preferred to survive, but I was vaccinated and I survived. But I did not even hint that I knew more about his men’s weapons than they did. They were pigs. Tough guys. But none of them were military and none of them really knew what they were doing with them. When they brought out the RPG, I nearly peed myself. Irinei had no idea what he was doing with it. I don’t think he even knew the safety was off.” “You know how to use an RPG?” Sophia said. “My family liked the United States very much,” Olga said, sadly. “We all like guns and anything that goes boom. And in the US, you could find people who had licenses for anything. I’ve fired an RPG, yes.” “Well, if we find an RPG you can have it,” Sophia said. “Oh, thank you, captain!” Olga said, clapping her hands girlishly. “But we’ll be keeping the rounds and the launcher separate,” Sophia said. “Oh, my, yes,” Olga said. “And both will have to be in a well sealed container. This salt air would cause corrosion quickly.” “I guess you miss your guns?” Paula said. “That’s not a request for an inventory and loving description of each, by the way. Got that enough from Faith.” “I do,” Olga said. “But I miss my books more.” “Books,” Paula said. “Now you’re talking my language.” “I have more books than shelves,” Olga said. “And I had many shelves. I collect old manuscripts when I can afford them.” “If we do any land clearance, look in the libraries and big houses,” Sophia said. “I bet around here you can probably pick up some great stuff.” “This is okay?” Olga said. “We can, salvage?” “If there’s time and if we clear the town,” Sophia said. “Sure.” “Oh, thank you, captain!” Olga said, kissing her on the cheek. “Okay, now you definitely need to get a room.