Lea gasped as the thing��grabbed at her the fingernails dirty and torn. ��The yawning mouth was opening, blood spaced like Kool-aid around his mouth. ��It was a nightmare, a movie marathon she had Caleb had seen, a sick, sick joke. ��It couldn’t be real. ��But it was.

The mouth snapped at her, the fetish breath making her stomach roll. ��She ducked back and brought her arm up, purse in hand. ��The mouth snapped shut on her purse strap as Lea kicked at the zombie’s knee. ��It worked. ��Somehow it worked and the gruesome thing lost his balance. ��He didn’t fall, but he did let her go enough that swinging her arm and shoving hard she moved him away from her. ��This was real!