Five stories. Four friends. One fucked up night.
Can I ask you something? Do you think zombies are real?
I don’t mean metaphorical ones. Like, zombie-zombies. Dead guys, coming back to gnaw at you in the middle of the night.
OK, maybe I do mean metaphorical ones.
I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, is all. Been thinking about them again.
Gosh, why am I telling you this. You just met me.
But I think strangers are better at understanding these things than friends, sometimes. What having no context and all.
Thing is, there’s a lot of stuff they don’t know. My friends, I mean. And I can’t tell them.
So I guess what I’m really asking is…
… can you keep a secret?
* Fringe Veteran