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After the End
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Through the binoculars, a zombie was even uglier than when seen up close and personal. Of course, when they were near, you didn’t generally have time to study them too carefully. There were other things to do—like screaming and running. From a distance, it was safe for Ari to let his gaze wander over the creature’s rotting skin, its flat, vacant eyes and slack-jawed-yokel mouth. Blood stained the lower half of its face, coating cheeks and chin and nearly obliterating the Alpha Kappa Beta logo on the upper half of the thing’s sweatshirt.
An “after,” then. By the clothing, he could usually tell a “before” corpse from one that had been turned after the first wave. Who would bury their beloved Brenda or Beth in a sorority sweatshirt? Most of the first-generation zombies wore suits or dresses, since they’d come to the banquet from mortuary viewings or funeral services. Or they were naked cadavers straight from the slab at a hospital or city morgue.