Driving Norris and riding Pietmond arrive in town, running over Germans right and left with their ramming, bamming van, bam bam bam! (ram ram ram!) But they were all zombies, they justified the killings, kill or be killed being their current team motto. Something was afoul here, they quickly and correctly deduced by sniffing in the air once inside the city gate. Denmark? Close!
“I figured it out,” said Pietmond to Norris, not worrying so much about the driving and ramming and thus with more time on his hands to think and ponder and study. “The ones with the old fashion helmets are zombies, and the ones with the newer headwear are actual people. I can tell it by their eyes. Better avoid those ones from here on out.”
“Right!” But a newer headgeared one was right in front of him when he said this and was run over anyway, oops. “Starting… NOW,” Norris said just afterwards, perhaps even with a smile as he keeps driving forward at a still pretty high rate of speed into the heart of the situation. The rest of the teams should be arriving soon.
(to be continued)
Sunklands 