Just as the intelligent zombie was about to leave with its minion, a voice, origin unknown, halted its steps, a puzzled expression crossing its ghastly, hideous face.
What person had made that sound?
In its mind, this type of repetitive vocalization, known as language, was something only humans could produce, and to a zombie, humans were food.
Its eyes brightened as it scanned the surroundings, aware, in its intelligence, of something called danger.
Fresh flesh indeed brought great joy to zombies, but such flesh was only found on the living, not every living being could be hunted by zombies, blindly charging at a powerful one could only lead to death!
