I was in my bathrobe on the couch that Sunday morning — watching I don’t even remember what — when the news broke in. Spent the rest of the day watching everything go to shit. I half thought it was some sort of Orson Welles put-on, that it was a farce. At least for the first few hours.
By early afternoon I finally realized it was real, but it was already too late to get out of the building; the parking lot and the street were full of zombies. There’s eight of us in all, hoping to God the security door holds.