of guy,” Scavy says.
Junko’s eyes light up when she spots the weapon in her bag.
“Well, they got mine right,” Junko says, pulling a chainsaw out of her bag. “I’m totally a chainsaw kind of girl.”
It is a custom-designed chainsaw built specifically for the game. It is long, thin, and lightweight, created to strap onto her right arm.
“Chainsaw arm!” Scavy says. “You lucky bitch!”
Rainbow Cat is the most disappointed in her weapon. With her thumb and index finger she lifts it out of her purse-sized bag by the handle, holding it like a dead rat by its tail.
“A dagger?” she whines.
They look at her.
“That’s it?” Scavy says. “Just a knife?”
Junko chuckles. “They did that on purpose.”
“Why?”
“You got a dagger because you stabbed your husband in the back,” Junko says. “The people back home are probably laughing their asses off right now.”
“That’s bullshit,” Rainbow says. “How am I going to get anywhere with this?”
“All you really need is something to cut them off when they grab you,” Junko says. “A lightweight weapon has its advantage. You’ll be able to run faster and it won’t give you a false sense of security.”
Rainbow pulls up her skirt and straps the dagger around her thigh.
Junko continues, “Too many people get killed off early on in the game by thinking their weapon is powerful enough to take on a whole horde head-on. The people who get the furthest are those who don’t stay and fight, but run away. Avoiding confrontations is best way to survive.”
When Popcorn pulls a 9mm handgun out of her bag, Junko snags it away from her.
“Hey!” Popcorn cries, reaching out to take back her gun.
Junko dodges her hand and digs ammo clips out of her bag, then places them into her own. “You don’t get a weapon. You’re infected.”
“I’m fine!” Popcorn says.
Then her tendon slides out of her wrist and lands in her lap.
Junko snorts and spits. “I doubt it.” Then she points at Popcorn’s shirt.
The zombie puke had burnt through her clothing and eaten away a few layers of her skin above her cleavage. Popcorn pouts as she looks down at her chest. To her, it just looks like a really bad sunburn.
“Who gets the extra bag?” Scavy says, looking down at Charlie’s duffel bag next to Junko.
“Take it,” Junko says.
Rainbow jumps in. “Hey, he was my husband! I should be the one to take it.”
Scavy unzips the long duffel bag and pulls out a black rectangular case. When he opens it, he finds an M24 sniper rifle.
“Fuck yeah!” Scavy says.
Junko shakes her head. “That’ll be useless.”
“No, it won’t,” Scavy says. “It kicks ass and shit.”
“It’ll only slow you down. The only use you’d have for it is shooting zombies from a distance, but if you see zombies in the distance you’re better off sneaking around them.”
“If it’s useless, then why’d they give it to Charlie?”
“Because the producers saw him as a strategist,” Junko says. “Somebody who would fight from a distance, from an advantage point.”
“I’m a good strategist,” Scavy says.
Junko laughs and tries to take the rifle away from him. Scavy pushes her back.
“No, I’m taking it! I don’t care what you say.”
“Fine, but you’ll regret it,” Junko says.
“No, I won’t,” Scavy says. “Besides…” He holds it up to his shoulder and peers through the scope. “How else are we going to take out the competition?”
“We need to move on,” Junko says. “This is the most crucial part of the game. We need to cover as much ground as possible.”
“What’s with this pussy crap?” Scavy is holding up his middle finger to her while he speaks. “I don’t want to just run away. I want to kill some fucking zombies and shit.”
“Then you will die,” she says.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Scavy says. “As long as I have fun with it. Besides, they’re not even that tough.”
“Not tough?”
“Back at the
Junko’s eyes light up when she spots the weapon in her bag.
“Well, they got mine right,” Junko says, pulling a chainsaw out of her bag. “I’m totally a chainsaw kind of girl.”
It is a custom-designed chainsaw built specifically for the game. It is long, thin, and lightweight, created to strap onto her right arm.
“Chainsaw arm!” Scavy says. “You lucky bitch!”
Rainbow Cat is the most disappointed in her weapon. With her thumb and index finger she lifts it out of her purse-sized bag by the handle, holding it like a dead rat by its tail.
“A dagger?” she whines.
They look at her.
“That’s it?” Scavy says. “Just a knife?”
Junko chuckles. “They did that on purpose.”
“Why?”
“You got a dagger because you stabbed your husband in the back,” Junko says. “The people back home are probably laughing their asses off right now.”
“That’s bullshit,” Rainbow says. “How am I going to get anywhere with this?”
“All you really need is something to cut them off when they grab you,” Junko says. “A lightweight weapon has its advantage. You’ll be able to run faster and it won’t give you a false sense of security.”
Rainbow pulls up her skirt and straps the dagger around her thigh.
Junko continues, “Too many people get killed off early on in the game by thinking their weapon is powerful enough to take on a whole horde head-on. The people who get the furthest are those who don’t stay and fight, but run away. Avoiding confrontations is best way to survive.”
When Popcorn pulls a 9mm handgun out of her bag, Junko snags it away from her.
“Hey!” Popcorn cries, reaching out to take back her gun.
Junko dodges her hand and digs ammo clips out of her bag, then places them into her own. “You don’t get a weapon. You’re infected.”
“I’m fine!” Popcorn says.
Then her tendon slides out of her wrist and lands in her lap.
Junko snorts and spits. “I doubt it.” Then she points at Popcorn’s shirt.
The zombie puke had burnt through her clothing and eaten away a few layers of her skin above her cleavage. Popcorn pouts as she looks down at her chest. To her, it just looks like a really bad sunburn.
“Who gets the extra bag?” Scavy says, looking down at Charlie’s duffel bag next to Junko.
“Take it,” Junko says.
Rainbow jumps in. “Hey, he was my husband! I should be the one to take it.”
Scavy unzips the long duffel bag and pulls out a black rectangular case. When he opens it, he finds an M24 sniper rifle.
“Fuck yeah!” Scavy says.
Junko shakes her head. “That’ll be useless.”
“No, it won’t,” Scavy says. “It kicks ass and shit.”
“It’ll only slow you down. The only use you’d have for it is shooting zombies from a distance, but if you see zombies in the distance you’re better off sneaking around them.”
“If it’s useless, then why’d they give it to Charlie?”
“Because the producers saw him as a strategist,” Junko says. “Somebody who would fight from a distance, from an advantage point.”
“I’m a good strategist,” Scavy says.
Junko laughs and tries to take the rifle away from him. Scavy pushes her back.
“No, I’m taking it! I don’t care what you say.”
“Fine, but you’ll regret it,” Junko says.
“No, I won’t,” Scavy says. “Besides…” He holds it up to his shoulder and peers through the scope. “How else are we going to take out the competition?”
“We need to move on,” Junko says. “This is the most crucial part of the game. We need to cover as much ground as possible.”
“What’s with this pussy crap?” Scavy is holding up his middle finger to her while he speaks. “I don’t want to just run away. I want to kill some fucking zombies and shit.”
“Then you will die,” she says.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Scavy says. “As long as I have fun with it. Besides, they’re not even that tough.”
“Not tough?”
“Back at the
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