Surviving The Dead (Book 7): The Killing Line - Plot & Excerpts
Sabrina tended to agree, and expressed her opinion with her usual delicacy. “What a shithole,” she said. “And I’ve seen some shitholes.” I looked up from the cook fire where I was preparing our first hot meal since leaving Haviland. “In fairness, I would remind you that until about a year ago this place was overrun with infected, who are not known for their expertise at gentrification and urban renewal.” Elizabeth turned and looked past the fence at the broken windows, piles of rubble, and skeletal construction girders spearing toward the sky. “I’m afraid I have to agree with Sabrina’s assessment,” she said. “I’ve seen sewers that were more cosmopolitan.” I stirred the pot hanging over the fire. It was filled with water, potatoes, peas, carrots, and chicken meat, all of which had been dehydrated until a few minutes ago and were now swelling with reintroduced moisture.
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