Apparently, word of Ozzie’s untimely demise hadn’t quite reached all ears just yet. While the cops certainly knew about it, his ndlord, thankfully, did not. Not that it didn’t make knog on the man’s door in the middle of the night any less awkward. Wearing a hodgepodge of clothes and looking more than a little disheveled. Even so, after simply expining that he’d lost his keys during a motack he’d been able to get one of the spares the ma on hand. It robably the most mundane experience he’d had since he’d woken up and it was more than a little surreal in its own way.

  He trudged up the stairs, the hound and zombie thief following him in plete silehey had less trouble climbing the stairs than he did and he wasly sure why. The odd instinct that itched at the back of his head told him that it was because he was more scious of his as than they were, but he’d noticed that the zombie thief wasly all goher. The instincts and his reality weren’t quite matg up and that troubled him more than a little. The hound even more so, it seemed to be just as mobile and active as a living version if it’s kind. It even took the time to sniff around and examis surroundings as they finally entered his less thaiful home.

  It hurried past him after a moment of sideration and darted to the weathered couch across from the entrance, hopping onto it aling in without a sed thought. The thief oher hand just stood there, gng around in mute fusion. It really didn’t seem to uand much of what was going on. Ozzie had sidered leaving it where it had been uh… born… but after how easily the ‘dition’ had spread from the hound he didn’t think it was a very good idea. He didn’t want it, but this guy, thing, whatever he was, was now his responsibility.

  It didn’t help that he could literally feel the liween them.

  It was made even worse by the fact that he could uand the guy, to a degree. Not in any intimate sort of way. He didn’t have access to his memories or thoughts, not that there were ma anymore, but to be quite frank he objectively uood how the man worked. He wordlessly held out his hand and without prompting the man pulled his gun out and ha to Ozzie. He looked at the on, it was heavy and cold, he’d never held one in his entire life even though he probably should have. He tilted it over in his hand and in a fsh, disengaged and ehe safety, dropped the clip into his palm, reloaded, and reached for the hammer.

  “Shit!” Ozzie gasped, freezing and staring dumbstruck at the on.

  He looked over at the thief with a bit of fusion, “Were you military or something?” He asked, not expeg much of a response.

  He didn’t get much either, just a numb nod.

  Ozzie sat down on his arm chair and held his head in his hands, barrel of the gun pressing against the side of his head. He let out a whihis is too much, man, what the hell? What am I even supposed to do with that? With you?” He threw his hand dismissively at the thief before setting the gun down and rubbing his eyes. “I have a job-”

  He froze.

  “I don’t have a job do I?” He squi the table. They’d be the first people to know about his death, wouldn’t they? After his utter ck of -of-kin. He rest his head bad stared up at the ceiling, “The only thing I know how to do well is drive,” He g the gun oable, “And use a gun, now, I guess.” He added sourly.

  He covered his face with a hand and tried to think, he wasn’t a thinker, or a pnner, not really. He was a smart guy, he’d always thought so anyway, observant and good at gathering information. He’d had over a dozen nes that he’d set up on his phoo give him access to the test of what was going on in the world. It was something of a hobby and a way to break the ice with a t while he was driving. He hated driving in sile was beyond unfortable. When things got super awkward, he would pop in his earbuds and listen to an audio book or something.

  There was no way he was getting his job back, and his death certificate robably already signed by the er which meant that his identity was useless now. No possibility of a normal paycheck. He was so screwed.

  “Could register as a hero…” He trailed off and gnced up at his zombie-minion-dude-thing. He frowned, “Yeah, no, no way, no one would be happy to see me.”

  There were vilins out there, maybe they could use a badass zombie making hen? He s thought as well, “Yeah ahe cause of the zombie apocalypse because my boss ger happy? No thank you, I like not being a herald of doom, thanks.”

  He threw his head back again and groaned, “This sucks! Why is this so hard? When I see that guy who stabbed me I’m gonna give him a piey mind!” He groaned and then sighed again, “Unless he stabs me, again, not that it’ll st I guess. Still not cool.”

  He took a deep breath and tried to trate only to get distracted, again, at the y of not really having to breathe but the soothing feeling of doing it. It was kind of nice. He shook his head and tried to get his thoughts in order, “I don’t o eat anymore, I think,” He said thoughtfully, “Drink, piss,” He shook his head, “The chair feels good still so I experienfort which is nice. I guess I really don’t need money but…”

  He pressed his lips together and g the hound and the thief, “...but it would kind of be a shame not to figure out how to take advantage of this? Right? Yeah? That’s n, is it?”

  It was more for his own self affirmation than anything, he admitted, he already khat he was going to try to figure out some way to cash in on what had happeo him. It was human nature after all to use an advantage given. Even so, it still stressed him the hell out. How was he supposed to take advantage of having a zombie at his and when most forms of business required face to fatera? If he could drive his taxi again that would work, but-

  He paused.

  “Well… why not?” He said thoughtfully and looked at the thief. “ you drive?”

  It nodded numbly.

  “ you drive well?” He asked more specifically.

  It hesitated and he felt his e to the thing strengthen a little bit more. It was an odd feeling, like an invisible thread betweewo of them being just a bit thicker. It tingled. After the sensation passed it nodded again in affirmation.

  So it’s a two-way street. I get what it knows and it gets what I know.

  He g the hound and it just sat there on the couch, panting, looking as lively as well… a living dog. It acted like a dog, not a predator hound. Ozzie frowned and the realization finally hit him, it was emuting his image of what a good dog should behave like. It was nothing more than a puppet that he was subsciously providing behavioral instrus to. The realization made him a bit unfortable but at the same time he was gd he uood more of what was going on now.

  It hopped to its feet at a thought and hurried over to him, pnting itself o his knees. He reached down and scratched behind its ear as he mulled his thoughts over a bit more. He gnced up at the thief. My own taxi business, that might work, run with a… single… zombie.

  He groaned, “That’s not going to work! And I am not going out of my way to make more of you guys, that’s insane!” He groaned, “It seemed like a good idea at first!”

  That was when he heard the shouts outside.

  He frowned, it was normal to hear violent people doing violent things in this neighborhood. People doing stupid things, causing trouble for the others just trying to live in peace. He g the door, It’s not my problem, not like I do anything about-

  He paused and looked at the thief again, it stared back at him with a vat expression. He swallowed, “Well… I mean…” He knew he was taking insane leaps in logic. He knew he was letting his new pet to him. But… he couldn’t help himself. “...it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?”