Bryce
Bryce followed Tiny and Justice into the cop station. Fortunately, the lobby was clear when they entered, but the familiar rank of the undead was everywhere.
“We’ve got zombies somewhere,” whispered Tiny. “Let’s check out the back rooms. Try and find where they keep the weapons.”
“Never thought I’d enter one of these places voluntarily,” said Justice in a low voice.
“I hear you, brother,” replied Tiny.
Justice stepped over a couple of gutted rats and grimaced. “Nasty.”
Bryce snorted. “You’ve been surrounded by zombies and a few dead rats bother you?”
“Well, we used to have an infestation at my cousin’s shop. Rat s**t everywhere, it was disgusting. Still hate the little bastards, dead or alive.”
“Good thing they don’t come back as zombies,” said Bryce. “You’d never sleep again
