I just finished Letter #7 of Ora et Labora et Zombies. The story is told in letters written by a man to his wife. The communications infrastructure in Louisiana suddenly collapsed one day (the Friday after Ash Wednesday) while she was on a trip. The whole social order seemed to collapse and rumors of people lumbering around and attacking people drove him to enact their emergency plan: go to the local Benedictine monastery for shelter until things calm down.A random group of other people have also fled there or wound up stuck there. The abbot of the monastery held a meeting after one of the novices came back from working on one of the crewes for a Mardi Gras float (the story takes place outside New Orleans). The novice describes the grey skin and slow, unnatural movement of people who seem as if they were dead but still walking around. And then...
At this point, from an otherwise stunned audience, the Johnson's middle son, Robert, interrupted to ask incredulously, "You mean like Zombies?" Both Chris and Marjorie shushed him embarrassedly, but the bell could not be unrung, and the question floated there in awkward silence, too obvious to ignore and yet too ridiculous to confront.What a great description! The writing is uniformly great and the premise is unfolding in interesting ways. I can't wait for more as the letters come to my mailbox.
Order your own letters at the web site.
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