Remember
The big hunter let out a grunt of pain. The zombie had grabbed his calf with its supernaturally strong fingers–the same leg he had twisted chasing the voodoo priestess across the cemetery earlier that day. He drew his suppressed 9mm…
Birth of a Hunter
It had been a long day. Up at five o’clock in the morning to get ready and make the two-and-a-half hour drive to be at the range in Brighton, Michigan by 9am. The match started an hour later and lasted…
