For a second, Pretty Boy and I just stare at each other.
His chest is heaving. His fingers tighten around the broken chair leg. His body is tense, like he's ready to swing at me next.
My stomach churns. Seriously? He better be kidding me.
"Oh, come on, really?" I snap. "I save you, and this is the thanks I get?"
His brows knit together. "Who the hell are you?"
I nearly drop the nail gun.
"Are you serious?" I take a step closer. "You don't…? I literally—Oh my God."
Of course, I know there's a chance I wouldn't be recognized which is actually a good thing. How else would I infiltrate if all the cold motherfuckers who betrayed me can recognize me at a glance?
A zombie suddenly groans to my left. I whirl and fire again even though I know it isn't coming for me. However, I need to act like they were or else, I'd seem suspicious.