Not ghosts. Broadcasts.

The Walker stops. Turns its head too fast — snap — and looks directly at them. Its mouth moves, but no sound comes out. Then, in a distorted, compressed-audio whisper:

(glitching) “We… are… the walking… dead.”

Kabir almost smiles. Almost.

THE WALKING DEAD OFILMYWAP Coming soon to a bunker near you. Want me to continue this into a full short story or add more characters?

We need to find the source. The server. Shut it down.

He stares at her.

She fires again. Silence.