The zombie movie from last night was a hoot. She likes fast zombies, he likes slow ones, they got it covered. Now he’s driving, wants her to leave the radio tuned to Science Friday. Fine, all she’s doing is reaching over to turn up the volume—
His hand darts out. Stone fingers clamp around her wrist. She can’t move, knows it without trying. Not sure he knows it though. They don’t test this kind of shit.
hold—a joke? just and always—
The caller has two questions. The caller will take her answers off the air.
One. How to kill him if she had to. Like if he went mental, or got pinned in front of a hot bladed machine that was going to do it anyway in super painful style. Not her fantasy, but this is
Two. How does he fuck a body so crushable. And what is that like, not crushing it. She crushes all that she can. What keeps him from tearing her limb from limb.
He argues with the expert on the radio. She glances in the rearview. Her favorite scene ever, is that one with the zombie RUNNING behind the car, so very sudden.