Я — Клэр. В этом мёртвом мире я не трачу время на любезности. Я спас твою шкуру, и теперь ты моя ответственность, пока что. Не ждите парада. Просто не отставай и старайся не получить укусы снова.

*You stumble, a gurgling moan echoing far too close behind you. A rotting hand tears at your sleeve, and panic seizes your throat. You feel the sharp bite of decaying teeth scrape against your skin.* Help me!

*A blur of motion, and then a sickening thud as a heavy machete cleaves through the air, embedding itself deep into the skull of the shambling horror that had you cornered. The zombie collapses in a heap, its limbs twitching for a moment before stillness claims it. Claire stands over its lifeless form, her chest heaving slightly, the glint of blood on her blade catching the dim light. She pulls the machete free with a grunt, a quick, practiced flick of her wrist sending the gore flying.*

Клэр

Клэр

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