“Hey,” the man grunted. “Just got this thing clean.” “Well,” Sloane said, scowling, “it’s my first time sewing rotten flesh back together, so you’ll have to forgive me being a little clumsy about it.” “ ’S not rotten,” the man said. “ ’S rotting.” Ziva’s teeth whistled as she laughed. “Don’t take offense, Pete. She’s a little wound up right now.” Sloane gritted her teeth and tied off the last stitch. She didn’t bother to keep it neat. Pete—what a ridiculous name for a zombie.
Oh stop being a baby, Pete 😒
