Gasoline | Ben Parish

I purse my lips. "Maybe I don't want you to look out for me. Like I said, I don't need anyone." He lets out a laugh. It's a little jarring, how much Zombie resembles his namesake. Sunken eyes, rattling jaw, bared teeth. It's dark and twisted and genuine. Zombie, what happened to you? "You can lie to everyone, Croa...