Chapter Nine
"I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens."
– Woody Allen
Sonya's dead body was paler than bone as her eyes lay wide open, frozen forever in petrified horror. Half her face was melted off and her arm was broken in more places than one. Mangled was the only way to describe her cooked, deformed body. Struggling to my knees, I retched, throwing up all over her dead body. Then I saw what I had done and threw up even more.
Wiping the back of my hand sloppily across my mouth, I staggered to my feet.
"Hey." I whirled. "You look like you could use some company," Bat Boy smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he took my elbow and led me away from the carpet of dead bodies. We stepped carefully, but even then, I couldn't help wincing and gaggin
