A First Kill
March 27, 2015
For one man in Poughkeepsie, the screams and the frequent gunshots meant a dream come true. For Benjamin Olski, the zombies that were running amok outside his apartment window represented a chance of a lifetime, but only if he could rein in his fear.
Terror had been growing in his mind ever since he peered through his quarter-inch thick spectacles and watched the first man die on the street. It had been just some dude, looking stupidly preppie with his collar upturned and his khakis neatly creased. As though he were part of a morbid opera, he’d been surrounded by three of them in a wheel of golden light thrown down from a high streetlamp. With the dark all about, the scene was vague in its details and grainy like an old home movie.
The beasts were black-eyed and had…
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