There were eight of them, buried from the neck down. From the disturbed earth it appeared as if someone had placed the zombies in a slit trench and then backfilled around them.
“It’s a warning.”
She shuddered. “To who? Other zombies?”
“No, to people.” He knelt down to examine one of the rotting faces. “They’re saying, ‘look how little problem we have dealing with the thing that ended the world; how much problem do you think we’ll have with you?’”
She looked around nervously. “Oh.”
He got up. “I mean, that or someone’s got a wicked creepy sense of humor.”
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