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Chapter 2 Tina

My mom snapped, "Handle him? Yeah, right! Do you really think he's brave enough to chop off Mr. Hoffman's head? He'll end up drenched in stinking blood! And if he doesn't clean up properly, he's not setting foot back inside!"

My dad stiffened, resembling a malfunctioning robot, as he dragged his feet, clumsily reaching for his backpack. I stepped in to help him strap it on. "Remember, if you run into any living people, just drop down and play dead."

Dad let out his usual croaky chuckle. "That's my specialty."

But before he could leave, my mom grabbed him by the collar. "Quit dragging your feet and get moving! You may not need to eat, but we do, and we're out of food. Just look at Mr. Hoffman—he's bulked up since this whole mess began. You? You've had the best care and all the good food, yet somehow, you're the one who's losing weight!"

Dad groaned, "You feed me pasta every day, but I'm a zombie! I choke down one serving and throw up two. How am I not supposed to lose weight?"

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