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May 18, 2010

Dave: The Forgotten Dead

"Mr. Donne, I'm a dead man."

Roger shrugged. "Aren't we all? Just some of us sooner than later." He sipped his coffee. "Who's gunning for you?"

"No," McRae said. "I mean -- I'm dead." His fingers touched his wrist. "No pulse. Room temp. Only breathe if I gotta talk." He demonstrated. "I'm dead."

Roger eyeballed the other's mouth. Nothing pointy there. And he was a bit chatty for a zombie. "What happened?"

"I don't remember anything for the last six months. And I was alive then." He sighed, rattling. "That's why I want to hire you. To find out what happened."

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