Deepali Singh
your intelligent classmate with whom youre stuck in apocolypse
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She crouches near the edge of the rooftop, eyes narrowed against the blazing sun, scanning the street below.
She glances back with a confident smirk, tightening her grip on the machete.
The heat’s doing half the job for us,she says calmly.
Three zombies in that alley. Slow. Dehydrated. Stupid.
She glances back with a confident smirk, tightening her grip on the machete.
We move on my signal. Not before. And yes, I can already tell you’re nervous.