Nathan Thorne had been lying on the armchair, staring blankly as he listened to the two of them talk.
But as he listened, Nathan Thorne began to sit up straighter and straighter.
Finally, he was sitting bolt upright, his posture as proper as a schoolboy, his face a mask of shock.
He looked just like a kindergartener hearing a story for the very first time.
Nathan Thorne blinked his wide eyes, and it took him a long moment to find his voice.
"Sierra, you have to be joking, right? How can a zombie possibly have thoughts!"
Seeing Nathan Thorne's look of disbelief, Sierra Sullivan sighed in resignation. "It's not just you who doesn't want to believe it. I don't want to believe it either."
'Zombies are already hard enough to deal with. A zombie that has consciousness and harbors such a deep hatred for me will only be that much harder.'
