Ducky and Ashling ranted on, talking at length through Wonderland's shiny night about their beliefs, which was right and which was wrong, and ultimately agreeing that cosmically, none of this donkey j**z mattered,so why even bother. After that it was silence for a while.
Ducky Nudged Ashling out of an hour's worth of sleep when they came up to the Hospital again. he wanted her to operate the gun. she fumbled with it twice and aimed clumsily, shot, and reloaded. Two of the resident zombies faltered and fell and of course Ducky laughed. Ashling shot more, getting the feel of the kickback, and Ducky told her where to shoot. Zombies were dying again everywhere; whatever wasn't felled by Ashling's bad aim, was felled by Rant's trusty Nailbat.
"Eliza!" He'd cry out, cig still clenched between his teeth, "cover me! I'm going in close range." She'd fumble and load the gun with all sorts of goodies, anything from sewing needles to pancakes were shot through that poor piece of metal, and eac one had a different effect on a different person. The best example was that a blueberry cupcake would turn a rotted-through zombie into a ripened tomato, the salmonella-giving kind.
