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As Fred drew closer to the town, she found the track blocked by a fearful mob wielding pitchforks and clubs, shouting things like "Be gone, zombie!" It seemed that the couple had drawn the natural conclusion from her deathly pallor, her shambling gait, her deadpan expression and dishevelled appearance, and had spread the word.
Fred might be out of practice at understanding human speech or interpreting facial expressions, but even she could not fail to sense the crowd's hostility. She turned and started walking back the way she had come.
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9/29/2020 5:42:41 PM
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