Chapter 55: The Hologram

“It’s some kind of holographic tattoo…” Nyzdzzl said thoughtfully as she peered at the hologram above Marm’s forearm. Orlyx had scuttled up her armor and was now sitting on her pauldron. “Had you had it before you turned into a zombie?”

{I don’t remember,} Marm said, telling a white lie that he hoped the telepathic elf wouldn’t be able to detect.

He was embarrassed. He had always had the hologram, from as far back as his damaged brain could remember. And he was the only zombie in the entire city who had it. In fact, it was the real reason he lost his arm in the first place.

As it turned out, the post-Apocalyptic world was full of ironies. First, there was no shortage of fresh meat for the determined and most hard-core zombie. Fresh meat was delivered right at their door step in literal truckloads (military-issue). But only the hungriest of the undead dared go toe-to-toe with the Open Seasoners.

“Open Seasoners” was what they called the human survivors of the Apocalypse, the last re