Book of the Dead: a Zombie Anthology
“Trefzger had reached for her insufflator. She pressed and inhaled, twice. “It’s ridiculous,” she said, between gulping for air. “You’re meant… to grow out of it… I’m getting… worse every day. A doctor… the other day… told me if I didn’t have this stuff…” indicating the drug, “and I had a severe attack… it could be serious.” “I was wondering,” Trefzger said, slowly, “why it should be getting worse. Then it came to me today. It’s the germs. Al the bacteriological stuff. Most of them are composed of tiny spores. Tularemia, anthrax, plague, al these things. They are acting as irritants. There’s not enough in the air to kil , but plenty to exacerbate an asthmatic reaction. That’s the case away from the most active war zones, anyway. That’s why I don’t think you should go down to Belgrade or Tirana.” “I have to,” she said, breathing a little more easily. “He needs me. He wants to live again, and I’m the only person he’s got to help him.”
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