I'm going to get 'I'M NOT FUCKING DEAD' tattooed on my chest.""That will become inaccurate at some point, " Omar pointed out.

Are you going to rape me at any point or anything?" I just figured it was good to get things out in the open, get myself in the right headspace. He whipped his head around and looked at me like I'd just insulted his grandmother. "The fuck? No, I'm not." He gave me the squint side-long. "Are you going to rape me?

Oh, you're a picky sort, huh?" He laughed. "That takes balls, being choosy at a time like this.

He wasn't my type -- my type was more the skinny hipster boys in girl jeans and thick glasses, a.k.a. the first ones to go during the outbreak -- but the sight still had me staring.