Dinner’s kick this time is weaker, way more uncoordinated, and R’s only shaken loose for a few seconds before he’s drawn back to the beginning of a feeding frenzy – he’s been in more than enough to recognize that electricity sizzling through the air, linking him with the other Dead like an invisible chain. He can feel it scorching the roof of his mouth. The back of his dry throat seizes up.

This is it. The guy’s screwed and they all know it. Who’s he kidding? Grabbing back onto his leg, R looks up, sees Karis sinking her pointy teeth into the side of the man’s neck, Air attached to his elbow like it’s going out of style. Blood starts splattering. Some of it nails R, the zombie not even blinking as the warmth splatters across his face. His tongue flicks out to lick some of it away and if there was anything holding him back, like the little thing called a conscience that didn’t die with the rest of him? Yeah, that’s gone now. He’s swept up in the feeding frenzy with the others.

R sinks his teeth into Dinner’s thigh, rips out a big chunk, swallows it whole, and dives in for more, gnawing his way deeper and deeper with a gurgle bubbling up from his chest. The femoral artery, femur bone; it doesn’t matter, R goes for broke now. More blood fills the air with its coppery tang. R has no idea if he hit the artery as he worries at the man’s leg like an animal. Probably, because suddenly he’s getting a lot more blood going in his face and maybe it’s for the best if he gets an artery.

Dying by zombie dogpile isn’t something to drag out.