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

Oh yeah, at first. It was kinda scary, kinda weird, “you know I hear it’s not really rabies” and stuff
like that. But then that first winter things died down, remember, and anyway, it was a lot more fun
to rehash last night’s episode of Celebrity Fat Camp or totally bitch out whoever wasn’t in the
break room at that moment.
One time, around March or April, I came into work and found Mrs. Ruiz clearing out her desk. I
thought she was being downsized or maybe outsourced, you know, something I considered a real
threat. She explained that it was “them,” that’s how she always referred to it, “them” or
“everything that’s happening.” She said that her family’d already sold their house and were buying
a cabin up near Fort Yukon, Alaska. I thought that was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard, especially
from someone like Inez. She wasn’t one of the ignorant ones, she was a “clean” Mexican. I’m sorry
to use that term, but that was how I thought back then, that was who I was.
Did your husband ever show any concern?
No, but the kids did, not verbally, or consciously, I think. Jenna started getting into fights. Aiden
wouldn’t go to sleep unless we left the lights on. Little things like that. I don’t think they were
exposed to any more information than Tim, or I, but maybe they didn’t have the adult distractions
to shut it out.
How did you and your husband respond?
Zoloft and Ritalin SR for Aiden, and Adderall XR for Jenna. It did the trick for a while. The only
thing that pissed me off was that our insurance didn’t cover it because the kids were already on
Phalanx.
How long had they been on Phalanx?
Since it became available. We were all on Phalanx, “Piece of Phalanx, Peace of Mind.” That was
our way of being prepared…and Tim buying a gun. He kept promising to take me to the range to
learn how to shoot. “Sunday,” he’d always say, “we’re goin’ this Sunday.” I knew he was full of it.
Sundays were reserved for his mistress, that eighteen-footer, twin-engine bitch he seemed to sink
all his love into. I didn’t really care. We had our pills, and at least he knew how to use the Glock. It
was part of life, like smoke alarms or airbags. Maybe you think about it once in a while, it was
always just…“just in case.” And besides, really, there was already so much out there to worry
about, every month, it seemed, a new nail-biter. How can you keep track of all of it? How do you
know which one is really real?
How did you know?
It had just gotten dark. The game was on. Tim was in the BarcaLounger with a Corona. Aiden was
on the floor playing with his Ultimate Soldiers. Jenna was in her room doing homework. I was
unloading the Maytag so I didn’t hear Finley barking. Well, maybe I did, but I never gave it any
thought. Our house was in the community’s last row, right at the foot of the hills. We lived in a
quiet, just developed part of North County near San Diego. There was always a rabbit, sometimes
a deer, running across the lawn, so Finley was always throwing some kind of a shit fit. I think I
glanced at the Post-it to get him one of those citronella bark collars. I’m not sure when the other