Morning, in the luxury home…
Ray Harlan rolled out of bed and, as usual, the first thing he did was call for his ever-present shadow, Evan. Together, they headed straight for the backyard.
Checking for a newly evolved Tier 4 zombie had become Ray's favorite part of the day.
But as they stepped outside, something was off.
The four men stationed in the yard—normally hidden in the shadows—were all out in the open, gathered around the iron cage with puzzled looks on their faces.
"What's going on?" Ray asked, frowning.
"Mr. Whitmore," one of them said, pointing into the cage, "we've got a situation. One of the zombies is dead. Looks like it got eaten."
"Eaten?" Ray strode over, eyes narrowing. Sure enough, one of the corpses inside the cage had been torn apart—chunks missing, limbs gnawed down to the bone.
"By what?" he demanded. "What the hell killed it?"
"Zombies," the man said. "When we came out this morning, a bunch of them were still chewing on the body."
