Father Richard walked through the cemetery, waving the Bible over each grave and mumbling prayers.
He’d done this in five cemeteries already this week, and he’d yet to find anything.
Then, as he reached a freshly-dug grave, the ground erupted and an arm burst through the dirt.
Moaning… shambling horror…
Richard pulled the corpse out from the ground, tapped the Bible on its forehead, and said “Found you.”
“Took you long enough,” groaned the zombie. “Losing your touch?”
Richard coughed. “Just the weather, that’s all. See you in a week?”
“If you’re lucky.” The zombie shambled off into the mist.