More clues, for the tremendously thick, that John is undead. We start setting up some of our “zombie rules” on this page, though — other than the “they can talk and are smart” rules earlier, that is.

The “zombie rules” are the most fun part of coming up with any sort of living-dead fiction, I guess. Or at least one of the most absorbing. Everyone has their own spin on the rrraaaahhhhh set, so you have to get your ground rules out in your own head and laid out fairly quickly. One here is that cold is important: it slows decay, and has the side effect of dampening scent (not for the benefit of our Returners, as we’ll see later, but to help mask them so they can pass as human).

Look at the poet writing panel descriptions below, huh? “An endless sea of anonymity.” I’m such a dick.

In a broader sense, though, this was a step towards giving Roy another piece of shorthand for our Returners: they dress different. Direct sunlight is anathema, as it will warm them and cook their mostly-dead flesh, so they tend to cover up in thin layers. There’s also a posture issue that you’ll see once a few more of the Returners get into the book. But we’re a ways off that yet: at this moment, John Requin is (to our knowledge) the only dead man in this book.

Last trick: Roy did a masterful job at giving all the Returners subtle skin problems without having each one be a screaming gross-out. Just an extra couple of dots and dashes, especially around John’s hands. It sells it without pushing it down your throat. You’ll see it working well as John contrasts with his wife Jane tomorrow.