For a second, Chester thought she'd heard him wrong. She let out an indignant huff at his cavalier attitude, but then it processed and he was typing on his tablet when he'd tacked on a further clarification. Chester balked at him. "You what? You made me a walker?!" she snapped. "What the fuck, Kol?!"
She knew that "walker" wasn't accurate. It wasn't even close. ...maybe it was close. She was evidently no longer alive and that was about as close as somebody could get without actually being one. Kol was a vampire and if she was dead, but not dead, there was really only one conclusion to which she could come.
Chester leaned forward. "I didn't fight to survive in a zombie apocalypse for three years to die in a cushy hotel room in motherfucking Las Vegas, Kol, what the hell is wrong with you?!" she growled, punching him square in the chest and finding that, for once when she hit him — something she often did playfully — it didn't hurt.