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Ok: Tales from the Deadwood Zombie Invasion:
1. As usual, several emotions were at war in A. W. Merrick's capacious bosom. In this instance, there was fear of the groaning mob of walking dead at his office door; wonder and elation at witnessing what surely could only be a true supernatural phenomenon; and blackest despair at the knowledge that even if he did live to compose and print the story, no one would believe a word of it.
2. Dolly bit into the thumb of the dead hand clapped across her mouth, throwing the horror attached to it into paroxysms of shrieking. No sooner had the shambling thing loosened its grip on the fat girl than Al clocked it across its exposed jaw bone with the stock of the shot gun he carried - it staggered against the bar, and he reversed the gun and blew the creature's putrid head apart. Now kneeling under a table, Dolly spat out the corpse-thumb, her eyes wide in horror. Al looked down at her with a wry expression: "Good on you - but I'm going to have second thoughts about ever putting anything of mine in your mouth again."
3. Triumphantly, Richardson held up the antler, now stained with the blood of one of the undead things. "It protected my loved ones," he gasped to Aunt Lou, as she bundled him out of the Grand Central Hotel's back door. E.B. hurriedly brought up the rear, his palms even damper than usual.
1. As usual, several emotions were at war in A. W. Merrick's capacious bosom. In this instance, there was fear of the groaning mob of walking dead at his office door; wonder and elation at witnessing what surely could only be a true supernatural phenomenon; and blackest despair at the knowledge that even if he did live to compose and print the story, no one would believe a word of it.
2. Dolly bit into the thumb of the dead hand clapped across her mouth, throwing the horror attached to it into paroxysms of shrieking. No sooner had the shambling thing loosened its grip on the fat girl than Al clocked it across its exposed jaw bone with the stock of the shot gun he carried - it staggered against the bar, and he reversed the gun and blew the creature's putrid head apart. Now kneeling under a table, Dolly spat out the corpse-thumb, her eyes wide in horror. Al looked down at her with a wry expression: "Good on you - but I'm going to have second thoughts about ever putting anything of mine in your mouth again."
3. Triumphantly, Richardson held up the antler, now stained with the blood of one of the undead things. "It protected my loved ones," he gasped to Aunt Lou, as she bundled him out of the Grand Central Hotel's back door. E.B. hurriedly brought up the rear, his palms even damper than usual.
