How am I surviving the apocalypse, you ask? Easy. I’m not. Apoca-WHAT?! A marine, a doctor, and a zombie, make an entrance and act like I’m supposed to know what to do with them. Usually, if it rained men, I’d being singing some sweet hallelujahs. I’m singing alright, but it was more from the kick to my metaphorical manhood. Still, I’d need all the help I could get. WARNING: A past with abuse that’s lightly mentioned for the FMC. PTSD reactions from one of the men. M/M sex scene in chapter 32.