Colonel Marissa Sanchez, Third Brigade, Peoples’ Undead Resistance Army (P.U.R.E.) was enjoying some much-needed down time when she heard the explosion. One of the perimeter mines had just gone off.
Snatching up her weapons and her comms link, she was nearly out the doorway when she ran into a solid wall of immovable meat. To be more precise, she’d collided with the massive form of her field adjutant, Horatio “Tiny” Masters.
“Dammit, Tiny! Watch where the hell you’re going, you lummox. Get out on the line and get me a sitrep of where the breach is. We could be up to our asses in deadheads any minute.”
Tiny looked down with chagrin. “Oh…uh…yeah Rissa…about that. Seems we got the proximity sensors set a little too twitchy again. That detonation was Sandoval goin’ up in smoke. For what it’s worth, bastard probably never knew what hit him. Guess maybe we should fix that, huh?”
“If you have to ask me that, Tiny…” Marissa growled, “Dammit! Sandoval was one of the few guys left around here I could trust to not sleep through most of his guard shift.” She slumped back down into her chair.
“Aww hell, Rissa. Whaddya expect? After three years of Zombie Apocalypse, we ain’t exactly pullin’ from the best and brightest anymore. But ya know what? We will get through this cause…well…we ain’t got no other choice right?” He squeezed her shoulder with his meaty paw.
Grinning up at him, she smiled wanly, “No, I guess we don’t.”