World War Z_ An Oral History of the Zombie War ( PDFDrive )

For the first time in history, we faced an enemy that was actively waging total war. They had no
limits of endurance. They would never negotiate, never surrender. They would fight until the very
end because, unlike us, every single one of them, every second of every day, was devoted to
consuming all life on Earth. That’s the kind of enemy that was waiting for us beyond the Rockies.
That’s the kind of war we had to fight.
DENVER, COLORADO, USA
[We have just finished dinner at the Wainios. Allison, Todd’s wife, is upstairs
helping their son, Addison, with his homework. Todd and I are downstairs in the
kitchen, doing the dishes.]
It was kinda like stepping back in time, the new army, I mean. It couldn’t have been any more
different from the one I’d fought, and almost died with, at Yonkers. We weren’t mechanized
anymore—no tanks, no arty, no tread jobs 1 at all, not even the Bradleys. Those were still in
reserve, being modified for when we’d have to take back the cities. No, the only wheeled vehicles
we had, the Humvees and a few M-trip-Seven ASVs, 2 were used to carry ammo and stuff. We
hoofed it, all the way, marching in column like you see in Civil War paintings. There was a lot of
references to “the Blue” versus “the Gray,” mainly because of Zack’s skin color and the shade of
our new BDUs. They didn’t bother with camo schemes anymore; in any case, what was the point?
And, I guess, navy blue was the cheapest dye they had back then. The BDU itself looked more like
a SWAT team’s coverall. It was light and comfortable and interwoven with Kevlar, I think it was
Kevlar, 3 bite-proof threads. It had the option of gloves and a hood that would cover your whole
face. Later, in urban hand-to-hand, that option saved a lot of lives.
Everything had kind of a retro feel about it. Our Lobos looked like something out of, I don’t
know, Lord of the Rings? Standard orders were to use it only when necessary, but, trust me, we
made it necessary a lot. It just felt good, you know, swingin’ that solid hunk a’ steel. It made it
personal, empowering. You could feel the skull split. A real rush, like you were taking back your
life, you know? Not that I minded pulling the trigger.
Our primary weapon was the SIR, standard infantry rifle. The wood furniture made it look like a
World War II gun; I guess composite materials were too hard to mass-produce. I’m not sure where
the SIR supposedly came from. I’ve heard it was a modcop of the AK. I’ve also heard that it was a
stripped-down version of the XM 8, which the army was already planning as its next-gen assault
weapon. I’ve even heard that it was invented, tested, and first produced during the siege of the
Hero City, and the plans were transmitted to Honolulu. Honestly, I don’t know, and I so don’t care.
It might have kicked hard, and it only fired on semi, but it was super accurate and it never, ever
jammed! You could drag it through the mud, leave it in the sand, you could drop it in saltwater and
let it sit there for days. No matter what you did to this baby, it just wouldn’t let you down. The only
bells and whistles it had was a conversion kit of extra parts, furniture, and additional barrels of
different lengths. You could go long-range sniper, midrange rifle, or close-combat carbine, all in the
same hour, and without reaching farther than your ruck. It also had a spike, this little flip-out job,