And on the third day he rose again, despite
the sandaled stumble over apocalypse snow,
despite the shotgun jamming, despite promises
made by older friends who got too close for their
own good. There are some men who can’t be
kept down, some zombies who come twice.
They had seen him walking when the streets were
covered with water. They had seen him wander
through the desert to gather supplies. Watched
the lance pierce his side when there was no
ammo left for the fallen. It was prophesized
that he would come again when the sun rose
in the West. Don’t expect him to save you.
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