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Day of the Dead

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“Oh, damn,” Peter said, looking at the gory cricket bat in his hand while Bunter secured the doorway. “Harriet, my dear, I’m afraid I’ve done something regrettable to the postman.”

“Before or after he tried to bite you, dear?” Harriet asked calmly from her perch by the kitchen window. “I should hate to have to chain you in the cellar next to the vicar.”

“After the lunge, before the bite,” Peter said. “Any news?”

“They’re testing the vaccine, but only in London.”

“We’ll just have to hold out then, I suppose,” Peter said. “Good job we’re cleverer than the zombies.”