In hindsight it was pretty interesting that the first two zombies had been so polite, almost apologetic.

It had been obvious to Miriam that these were the living dead almost immediately, even as they made their stumbling way up the sidewalk.

For one thing they stank terribly, for another she’d attended both of their funerals not two months ago.

It was nice of them to ring the bell first; they even knocked twice before breaking the door down, which gave Miriam plenty of time to get her shotgun.

Taking a moment to look back, Miriam was certain there was something contrite in the way Mr. and Mrs. Amboy had both avoided her eyes as they’d come stumbling forward, kicking aside pieces of the shattered door.

For a moment there it had almost seemed as though this were just another awkward social encounter; Mrs. Amboy was just dropping by for a cup of tea, she had dragged her husband along against his will, he wanted only to watch television, and Mrs. Amboy already felt uncomfortable about the way he would behave.

Miriam was even willing to admit that Mr. Amboy might have been trying to slur out the words ‘I’m sorry’ before she’d blown the better part of his head off.

She’d given them plenty of time, it wasn’t until he’d made that desperate lunge that she’d brought up the weapon and put him down.

Not that Miriam had any time to ruminate on any of this; the creatures who were coming now seemed simply rude.

They displayed no manners whatsoever as they tromped through her flowerbeds.

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