Donnie focused on keeping the approaching zombies away, which wasn't fun considering that more had already been headed towards them with Stu's earlier whistle. The scent of blood was an even bigger draw.

Why was he trying so hard for these clowns? The thought was fleeting, startling him. He swung harder than probably necessary, crumpling a zombie's rib cage in as he leaped back, spinning his staff on a defensive arc.

Sure, he might enjoy violence and at times had the urge to wring his siblings' necks. Sure, maybe these guys might even deserve getting eaten! But deep in the back of his mind, Donnie knew it would bother him knowing he'd left these idiots to their doom. He just hoped they actually made good use of the time he was buying them.

As Stu and Billy made their retreat, they'd hear Donnie's taunting as he tried to keep as many of the zombies' attention away from them as possible.

"Sorry deadbeats, the only thing you'll be eating is military-grade titanium!!!!"