eimarra | two strains?

I keep reading these horror stories, and I'm so worried about my friends.

underpope is gone now. At least he left food for the cats. And didn't try to eat them.

elizabethboyce's mom may be in trouble, and she has some freaky goats wandering around. And evidently

bonniers wrecked a perfectly good electric guitar smashing in a zombie's head to keep it out of the house. Scary.

But . . . there's another side to this, too. Scalzi presents the Undead-American viewpoint very clearly and cogently. And some zombies are even showing up peacefully for casting calls. So they're not all mindless freaks.

I'm beginning to wonder if any of them are, really. Maybe they're just pretending. Or there's some kind of maturation process. I saw something out my front window that really made me think. Police car pulled a big semi--a Special Vehicles Team truck--over in front of my house. Okay, I don't blame the cop; a rig like that doesn't belong in this neighborhood. My guess is he took a wrong turn heading for the Nazareth Pike. But then the cop wanted to see in the back of the truck.

I'm sure there's a car in the truck; that's what it's for. But the grey arm that grabbed the policeman didn't belong to a car. A quick bite, and then the cop was released. He went back to his car, the truck driver closed up the back of the rig, and they both drove off. I don't think either of them saw me watching. The calm was creepy.

But how many were in that truck? And are they supposed to infect the pit crews--the other ones, I mean--or the viewers? I'm not sure, but if you're planning on going to the upcoming race, maybe you should give it a miss. At least if you want to stay, as Scalzi put it, pre-dead.

Intelligent zombies. They're out there, and it's probably not really your brains they're after.

Worry.