Dark Days

I don't know if cats understand what their owners say, but they do have a strong survival instinct.

If we were the best hope the human race had for its salvation, things were more fucked up than I’d thought.

My balls shrank in terror. I was convinced we were going to die.

Despite the horror, we survivors were endowed with a will to survive. Or instinct. Or maybe it was faith.

The living are almost more dangerous than the Undead.

Their spirit was dead; they were completely destroyed, lost and broken, looking for a reason to live.

He accepted hard times with resignation, like his ancestors had done for centuries. He just gritted his teeth and kept moving because there was no way to turn back.

Y además los No Muertos no entienden de fronteras, ni de países. Son cazadores letales sin ningún tipo de limitación.

My big furry cat sprang off the ground and made an elegant landing—right on my crotch. Wincing, I grabbed Lucullus around his fat belly and set him on the bunk next to me.

Those drugs in our backpacks are important, but this”— I helplessly pointed to the paintings around us—“ this is just as important. It’s our heritage, our legacy, the sum of who we are. When this is gone, in a few months or years, a part of us will be lost forever. Civilization won’t shine quite as bright.

For want of a nail... the kingdom was lost.

Despite all the shit we’ve been through, we still fall in love and have dreams. Even living the way we are, we survivors are fairly happy. Incredible, but true. Our will to live is so strong.

Humanity may have to live with them forever, unless we exterminate them... or they exterminate us.

Pride is a ridiculous thing, but when you're in desperate straits and it's all you have left, it becomes your most valuable asset.

I was exhausted and emotionally drained. That little episode was a summary of what my life had become— a nightmare that never let up.

Every day, we grasped the true scope of the Apocalypse. And what we saw convinced us that human civilization had gone to hell.

They had just one goal. To survive.

Their slain also shall be cast out, and their stink shall come up out of their carcasses, and the mountains shall be melted with their blood.

Hell! We don’t need an infection to exterminate the human race— we’ll do it ourselves!