Tell him about it! R's horrified. If he could claw aside the warm dirt and dig his own grave, he'd jump right in feet first. This must be what dying of embarrassment feels like. He'd forgotten. There wasn't a lot of room to feel humiliated surrounded by other zombies: a lot of the others had it way worse when they were dropping body parts mid-groan.

The maggot went flying into the underbrush, R's eyes following its trajectory. When shifted back to Ellie, he saw she was staring him right in the face. Or, uh, half his face.

R shook his head, the chunks of flesh jiggling (at least he didn't splatter her with blood). He was sure after the maggot that rank, cold blood hitting Ellie smack in the face would've turned her right around. As far as he knew, that was the only maggot in his face. The others were worming their way around his corpse - they hadn't been as adventurous.

He pointed at his stomach, then at Ellie's face. He raised an eyebrow. Was she hungry? Was there anything he could do to help?