“Jesus CHRIST!” Beth and Jay both elbowed Simon sharply before the curse even finished tumbling out out of his mouth. “SHHHHHH!” they hissed.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “But what the fuck was that?”

The three of them were sandwiched inside a narrow, crumbling tool shed. Beth was practically standing on top of Jay’s All-Stars, her perky cheerleader’s breasts brushing against his thin chest. In any other circumstance, this position would have resulted in Jay popping a king-size boner; now he was too frightened to feel even a twitch.

Outside, the shuffling and moaning had been replaced with a fearsome howl, a disturbing sound like fabric tearing, and then silence. Simon, Beth and Jay peered through the cracks in the shed’s walls at the zombies. Or, what was left of them.

The rotting gray corpses that had been circling the yard were now all lying face down. Some were rolling side-to-side, like frustrated infants trying to flip from front to back.

“Holy shit,” Jay murmured. “What happened to their arms?”