“If a responsible, mentally sound American wants to own and AR-15, that’s their right. Besides, when the zombies come…okay, you don’t like the zombie thing. When the Chinese invade our country, who do you want to depend on? The over-extended police force and the National Guard? Or the next door neighbor who’s a former Marine and has enough guns and ammunition for your entire block?”

“I want you to be concerned about your next door neighbor. Do you know your next door neighbor?”

“Indeed, one concern would be that the initial neoconservative response to a zombie outbreak would be to invade Iraq again out of force of habit.”

“We were afraid of so many things: Of our children, who lived in their own world of casually lurid pleasures, zombies and cartoon killers and thuggish music. Of our neighbors, who were buying gold and ammunition and great quantities of freeze-dried food, and who were organizing themselves into angry tribes recognizable to one another by bumper stickers.”

“That,' he said, with almost religious fever, 'was the coolest thing you have ever done. In fact, that may have been the coolest thing you ever will do. Your entire existence has been moving toward one shining moment, George, and that was the moment when you thought, 'Hey, why don't I just go over the zombies?”

“Sophie nodded. “She’s right. It’s almost like they were…zombies.” “Zombies?” I asked in disbelief. “I know how it sounds, but it’s the truth,” Brooke said. “We were attacked by zombified vamps and weres.” She paused. “Okay…now that I’ve said it out loud, it does sound really stupid.” “It’s not like they were actual dead zombies, though,” Seth explained. “More like, robots.” Brooke rubbed her temples. “Now you’re bringing robots into this? You think that will help our case?” “Yes,” Seth growled. “Better than zombie vamps.”