_ Crafty Mae

Even he didn't have the answer to the question he just asked himself. He had no idea why they all didn't bathe the day before.

Their hope for the help that never came caused them all to forget about showering or keeping clean.

After all, the choppers would come and they would all be taken to a clean safe haven somewhere. Somewhere without the zombies.

That seemed like wishful thinking now. His faith had begun to falter as the unsurety of if they’d be rescued or not had overwhelmed him so much that he didn't want to think about it any longer.

Somehow, the disgust of the slimy fluid from Beck’s decomposing body didn't irritate him as much as he thought it would.

Not as much as it’d irritate him if this wasn't an apocalypse.

Luckily, he found a soap sitting on the soap holder in the toilet. He made sure to wash every nook and cranny of his body and after minutes of wasting the water he knew was limited, he stepped out of the bathroom dressed only in his falling jean now.

He wondered why
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