He was not long dead, I think; bloated, though, and pale. The clothes were fairly well kept, so I don’t think he had been out wandering long. A shambler, I found him in a field of wild flowers past the river wandering in that confused way they do. I can just imagine how it would work; someone who did not know, someone with nothing but charity in their heart, sees a fellow creature in trouble, distress, looking lost and tired, and our someone goes to help. Then there’s two shambling, or worse; there are worse things than the shambling type.
The Last Zombie I
Tale Told 