The two corpses in the supply closet twitched.
First, it was the baby zombie—its tiny limbs jerking with a grotesque innocence. Its head lolled unnaturally before snapping upright. Clouded eyes rolled in its sockets as it slowly crawled down from the pile of cleaning rags. Drool and blood mixed at the corners of its mouth. It landed with a soft thud, then crawled to the metal door, scratching at it with its small, claw-like fingers. The dull scrape echoed in the silent hallway.
Behind it, the woman zombie stirred.
Her fingers curled, stiff at first, then moving faster, clawing the floor beneath her. Her eyes shot open, foggy and unseeing but burning with hunger. Her jaw worked open and shut, teeth clacking against each other. The skin on her neck twitched where the bite had first pierced her—now sealed, now undead.
Outside, heavy footsteps passed.
"Who the hell stuck a damn cat in the closet?" a man grumbled, annoyed. "It's makin' such a racket!"
