World War Z_ An Oral History of the Zombie War ( PDFDrive )
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manufacturing facilities all over the country. The shares from these dumbos sold almost as much as
the real stuff. It wasn’t even the idea of safety anymore, it was the idea of the idea of safety!
Remember when we started to get our first cases here in the States, that guy in Florida who said
he’d been bitten but survived because he was taking Phalanx? OH! [He stands, mimes the act of
frantic fornication.] God freakin’ bless that dumbass, whoever he was.
But that wasn’t because of Phalanx. Your drug didn’t protect people at
all.
It protected them from their fears. That’s all I was selling. Hell, because of Phalanx, the biomed
sector started to recover, which, in turn, jump-started the stock market, which then gave the
impression of a recovery, which then restored consumer confidence to stimulate an actual
recovery! Phalanx hands down ended the recession! I…I ended the recession!
And then? When the outbreaks became more serious, and the press
finally reported that there was no wonder drug?
Pre-fucking-cisely! That’s the alpha cunt who should be shot, what’s her name, who first broke that
story! Look what she did! Pulled the fuckin’ rug right out from under us all! She caused the spiral!
She caused the Great Panic!
And you take no personal responsibility?
For what? For making a little fuckin’ cash…well, not a little [giggles]. All I did was what any of us
are ever supposed to do. I chased my dream, and I got my slice. You wanna blame someone, blame
whoever first called it rabies, or who knew it wasn’t rabies and gave us the green light anyway.
Shit, you wanna blame someone, why not start with all the sheep who forked over their
greenbacks without bothering to do a little responsible research. I never held a gun to their heads.
They made the choice themselves. They’re the bad guys, not me. I never directly hurt anybody,
and if anybody was too stupid to get themselves hurt, boo-fuckin-hoo. Of course…
If there’s a hell…[giggles as he talks]…I don’t want to think about how many of those dumb
shits might be waiting for me. I just hope they don’t want a refund.
AMARILLO, TEXAS, USA
[Grover Carlson works as a fuel collector for the town’s experimental
bioconversion plant. The fuel he collects is dung. I follow the former White House
chief of staff as he pushes his wheelbarrow across the pie-laden pastures.]