the smuggler’s bible


“It’s a metaphor or something,” Miquel says. “Like, people look at their phones too much.”

“No,” Reko says, hammering another board over the window. “It’s just zombies.”

“Could be political. Dingy masses stumbling around aimlessly. Does that work?”

“It doesn’t, because—grab that chair. Good, break it up, we’ll need the wood. It doesn’t work because they’re zombies.” Reko snatches up her crowbar and smashes a hand groping under the door. “And they came from that weird asteroid dust.”

“See that on the news, huh? As if.”

“I mean, it makes sense.”

“Whatever. I still think it’s the phones thing.”