A young man quietly walked down a city street. He knew there was a Smoker around; he had seen its long tongue shoot out, he tried to kill it earlier, but it got away. The man could feel his pulse pounding, what if it grabbed him? What if his friends didn't hear him cry out? What if he slowly breathed his last breath, cold and alone while being slapped silly by a smelly zombie with a ridiculously long tongue? It was odd, because he had seen the tongue, he was sure of it, but he didn't hear any coughing. Smokers always coughed, it was a dead giveaway that one was around. Why wasn't this one coughing? Was it some sort of special Smoker? What if the zombies were further mutating? The thought of more special infected sent shivers down the man's spine.
The man felt something wrap around him. It was slimy and sticky, the Smoker had gotten him! He tried to turn around and face it, but the tongue was already firmly around him, he couldn't move. He tried to wiggle free as he was slowly being dragged towards the zombie. The man tried calling out to his comrades, but the tongue was firmly around his throat, he couldn't get the words out. His worst fears were coming true; he couldn't see any of his friends. He panicked and looked around, but there was no one there to help him. Just when he thought that all hope was lost, he saw a familiar face.
"Hey Chris, hurry up! We're not gonna wait… holy shit! Smoker's got Chris!" Kelly screamed as she fired her pistol at the source of the tongue.
"Kelly, hold your fire! Ted! Drop him!" Joe commanded.
Chris felt the tongue loosen; eventually he landed on the ground. He looked up to see his fellow survivor, Ted, standing on a rooftop with that stupid smile he always had.
"God damn it Ted, god damn it," Chris muttered to himself.