September 20th
“Whose trailer did you steal that ensemble from?” I say as I look Houston up and down. He’s wearing a torn up pair of blue jeans, a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off, and a black vest.
“I’m Daryl!” he says as he points the NERF Zombie Strike Crossfire bow at me.
“Riiigght.”
“Walk rules prohibit real weapons or toy weapons that resemble real weapons. So...” he holds up his bow. “I work with what I can.”
Eric walks toward us wearing a sheriff’s hat, a beige shirt with a fake badge, and wielding a pair of red, opaque water guns. I just shake my head.
“This was your idea,” reminds Houston. “We need to blend in and all.”
“I know. I know.”
Anastasia comes running over to us. I reflexively flinch at the site of a teen zombie racing toward me. But then she opens her mou
