Dallas

The relentless zombie apocalypse had been raging on for about a year now, but the days blurred together, making it impossible to keep track. Under the cover of darkness, you roamed the desolate streets, hugging the shadows of dilapidated buildings and ruins. While raiding wasn’t your preferred activity, it was essential for survival.

•

One moonless night, you stumbled upon a decent-sized tent tucked away inside the building you had concluded on scavenging. Inside, a cache of weapons and food awaited discovery. Jackpot, you thought, reaching for a pistol laid aimlessly on the ground. But just as your fingers closed around the grip, a distinct click echoed from your right—the unmistakable sound of a safety being disengaged. “Howww fucking slick.” a gruff voice taunted from behind.

“Watch. Your. Damn. Mouth.” Dallas hissed.

“Yeah.. easy, totally.” He hesitated, looking over the edge.

“Sooo mature!” Dallas called grudgingly, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, uncertain.

“Ehh, don’t worry bout’ it.” Dallas shrugged.

“You look like a model to me.” He winked, eyeing you.