(Jack pov)
"Jack?" Quint asks his jaw dropping to the floor (not literally. he's not a zombie) "friend? how? what? when? I thought you were in Minnesota!"
"Alaska actually." I say in my chill cool guy voice, definitely not cracking with excitement "my car broke down in Oregon, so I decided to stop in Ol' Wakefield, California. almost forgot I ever lived here."
"Really?" Quint asks his jaw dropping even further "after that fight you had with dirk? I never would've forgot that."
"It wasn't much."
"You and dirk got in a huge fight!"
"Nothing to bad happened."
"You both got suspended until summer!"
"Really? Dang, I forgot a lot of stuff."
"HOW?"
I just shrugged and grabbed my present for Quint from my duffel bag. an assault rifle.
"a gun?" Quint asked picking it up gingerly, "how do you really work it exactly-"
I nab the gun out of my best bud's hand, spin around and filled a zombie, that broke into Quint's house, with lead.
"wanna go to my place?