You grab your date’s arm, trying to free the surprised and apparently helpless waiter. He drops your appetizers—and, more tragically, your drink—and suddenly blood spurts everywhere as teeth sink into his skinny neck. Startled, you redouble your efforts, and slowly your date turns toward you. With the addition of a mouthful of gore, the hollow, staring eyes, intermittent moaning and shambling demeanor suddenly make a lot more sense.

You’re pretty sure that you’ve been on a blind date with the living dead.

At this point, the other restaurant patrons start stampeding for the door. You trip over something squishy—sweetbread, most likely—and your date falls on top of you. This is it, you think. This is the worst internet date ever. You try to free yourself, but your perfect forever love match is surprisingly strong for a corpse. Its teeth are inches away from your face.

Suddenly the room explodes with the sound of gunfire, and your undead lover falls away. A woman with an oversized handgun and a steely-eyed expression to match then fires seven more rounds into your date’s torso. The zombie seems unfazed, pulling itself to its feet and slouching toward this new threat.

“Behind you!” you yell. The waiter, covered in his own gore, now has the same vacant eyes and questionable posture as your date, and is reaching for the woman from behind. She casually finishes reloading and pumps most of her new clip directly into the first zombie’s face, blowing its brains out the back of its head. Then she turns and sticks her gun’s muzzle in the waiter’s gaping mouth. She squeezes the trigger, and with a disgusting splat both mostly-headless zombies fall to the floor.

That was totally badass.

“You’re welcome,” the woman says as she turns toward the door. Your first thought is that you could really use that gin and tonic about now. On the other hand, maybe you should tag along with your new friend for a while. After all, she has a gun and knows how to use it. And who knows if there are any more of these things wandering around?

Screw it. If you head to the bar to try and process whatever it was that just happened, turn to page 53.

If you follow the woman with the gun on the off chance that those weren’t the only two zombies in this whole book, turn to page 112.

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