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This one was likely infected only a few hours before this photo was taken. He won’t leave his house. Somewhere in this boy’s contaminated mind, a fragment of his humanity remains. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this happen with the new ones. Maybe this is the window of time when they can be saved. 


I thought I saw him fall from a three-story high scaffolding rig, but he may have jumped. It wasn’t enough to put him out of his misery. Wounds only seem to inconvenience them, or stun them. You’ve got to do something far more drastic to stop them cold. Lately I’m out more at night than I thought I would be. I’m learning.


“What do you think they are? You think they’re vampires, right? I know they’re vampires, and I don’t think the cops or the CDC or Patton’s third army can do anything about them! I gotta take care of myself.“
“You got bullets in that thing?“
“Well you talk a big game, brother! All you got is a digital camera!“


This photograph saved my life. I raised the camera to take the shot and he attacked the moment I pressed the shutter. The recently infected seem a little uncoordinated, as if they’re not in complete control of their new physiology. That and my camera are the only reasons I’m not infected. The stinger actually scratched the camera body.


“If he moves I’m going to slit his throat. I’m really sorry. I mean, we got this far together, but I’m really sorry. I don’t have a choice.“
“I’m sorry too. I don’t think that will be good enough.“


He was my neighbor. He lived above us for about three years and was raising two children on his own. The boy caught the virus from the plane and wound up in the hospital. The next day the rest of the family disappeared. No one knows what happened, but the rumor is the boy came back for them. We’re not waiting to find out if it’s true. My husband and I are leaving the city tonight.


It’s literal bloodlust. Unmoderated by fear or morality or regret or—as far as I can tell—even the mundane limitations of human physiology. Is this the payload Regis Air flight 753 delivered to New York? I feel safer when they’re feeding, at least for a little while. It’s when they’re hungry—that’s when they’re most dangerous.


“After a long, hot day the river stinks. It’s wild. Like, it’s intense. We were talking about this the other day. Imagine the city ripening in the sun, and when night falls all the stench and muck that accumulates during the day spews out of the sewers and into the Hudson. Like the city is disgorging the dead. Night is when Manhattan tries to wash away the evidence. At this point though, maybe the stain is too deep.“