There’ll be a cure, eventually. It’ll be on the radio one day, oh, government scientists have cracked the mystery of the zombie plague and we’ll be airdropping it to a field near you. And I’ll go get it no matter how hard it is or how far, and I’ll give it to her, and she’ll get better. She’ll be my Carlotta again.
Until then, the handcuffs on the chain will have to do. She’d forgive me, if her head was right. One day she’ll understand. This will all be just a nightmare we got through together, locked in the cellar.
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