[b]Marcus - Garden District, Baton Rouge - Aubrey[/b]

“A philosopher, I see. I'm afraid I don't know how to answer.”

Marcus detached his hands from his partner's stumps and took a few swift steps back. When the gurgling mass of necrosis shambled towards him, somehow clumsier than usual, he pulled the fireplace poker attached to his hip and swung it upwards in a sharp arc.

The tip tore through the roof of the walker's mouth and it immediately fell silent, its outstretched arms freezing in the air. Marcus kicked his partner to the floor and ripped the fire iron out of her skull, watching in an amused manner as her face seemed to cave inwards.

“There we go. Now I can,” he said cheerfully. “Yes, I'm alone.”