The poor thing looked like a man who had just finished a double shift and still had to walk home. He sighed quietly.
"Man… they really coded misery into these guys, huh?"
A few others stumbled out of the ruins nearby. Their clothes caught his eye before their movements did— faded jeans, ripped denim jackets, old overalls, and even leather coats with matching gloves and boots. It was as if a crowd of old world workers and citizens had been frozen in time, now wandering the streets as silent zombies.
One tripped over a broken curb and fell flat on its face, lying there for a long moment before awkwardly pushing itself back up again. Sid stepped aside, watching it wobble past without even bothering to raise his knife.
"Guess I really am near the tailor district… even the zombies are dressed better than me. And that one? Walking like he just lost a modeling gig."
He kept walking, speaking softly to himself.
