Waving in gratitude to Neala for the ride, I walked into school with a skip in my step on Monday. From Bellangame High to Spooner High to an underground compound . . . my life was on a declining plane of accommodations. My phone call to check up with Grandpa Jack had been convincing on Saturday n...
The atmosphere in the stables was much calmer since no one was readying for pictures, and quieter since some people had packed up and left when their zombies died or were injured in the melees and matches. An email had come in as Ink slept with the list of second matches for men in the 20-35 cate...