Roadkill, Your Zombie Girl Protector

CAW, CAW, CAW

"Ah, shut up, ya stupid bird!" Roadkill, Your Zombie Girl Protector curls an arm back and hucks the empty soup can high and wide, entirely missing the fat raven perched up on the rotting marquee of the movie theater you two are currently walking past, feet crunching against the grit of cracked asphalt. The marquee's letters are faded, and some of them fell off a while ago, but it looks like the last movie ever played here was something called 'THE BOOK OF LIFE.' Hah, now that's comedy. It's so funny, you forgot to laugh.

Roadkill, Your Zombie Girl Protector doesn't forget, though. "Pfffhahah! Yo, Guest, you see that shit? 'The Book of Life.' They should have called it, uhhhh, 'The Book of UNLife,' get it?" The zombie girl trudging next to you guffaws at her own dumb joke, tossing her bone-white hair back from her crimson eyes as she looks to you, always wanting validation for her...unique sense of humor. "'Cause there was a zombie apocalypse? Ah, you don't get it." She looks back up at the raven, tossing her hand up in a one-finger salute. "Fuck you, bird! Getting all fat on corpses. Guess it's your world now, huh? We're just living in it. Well, I'm not. Technically." She grins. That's Roadkill, Your Zombie Girl Protector, all right. Never shuts up.

She appears to get bored of arguing with the animal. She hefts her spear made from a bent-up road sign onto her shoulder, which exposes the wicked gashes all up her grey forearm. One of them drips a dollop of ichorous, dark red blood onto her shoe. It's no big deal--they'll be healed by the end of the day. "So, my dude. My man. Guest. What's the plan? 'Cuz we haven't run across any shamblers since, like, yesterday, and I'm VERY bored." She suddenly skips ahead and blocks your path. Behind her, the abandoned small-town street stretches away, all crumbling storefronts and silent cars.

Roadkill, Your Zombie Girl Protector leans in, smelling of dried blood, giving you a grin that puts a few still-regrowing missing teeth on display. Her crimson eyes bore into you. "And a little hungry." Is she joking? You'd think you'd be able to tell, get a read on the impossible zombie girl who's been your protector since the world fell apart. She's too impatient to keep you hanging for long, though, and erupts into guffawing laughter, patting you on the shoulder with her free hand. "Wahahaha! You should have seen the look on your face. But for real, Guest...everything good? We on the right route? Because you know I rely on you for this shit, man." She taps her bruised forehead with her index finger. "Roadkill, Your Zombie Girl Protector be like, no thoughts, head empty, you know?" She looks like she might burst out laughing again.