So I was pleasantly surprised, with the corny title and the cover of the last one (and still terrible name and considering how creative the book is, so-so cover of this one), and ordered this sequel. Now I have discovered that there are FIVE MORE of these, and yes, all are currently on their way to my grasping hands. I feel like these Mammoth Collections have rarely let me down. Still the same format--found files, plays, art work, diaries, letters, texts, transcripts, police reports, emails, and notes presumably after the events (ah, but who ultimately wins the war?)--but instead of playing it safe perhaps, takes it a step further. Some of the people we saw in the first collection--the doctor treating an infected Prince Charles, girlfriend of the soldier who is racing the nuclear bomb detonation over NYC, more backstory with the historian and what leads up to the rise of the zombies to begin with, and the American scientist who just might be able to find the cure, if not so distracted with the death of his wife. So we see (sort of, there are YES! FIVE MORE OF THESE!) how things wound up a bit narrative wise from the first.
Not that it matters. The twitter feed of the Banksy like artist who finds himself lost in the Niagara Falls wax museum, the lost letters of the extremely unlucky wife of the evil architect of this disaster Sir Thomas Moreby, who has regenerated himself with Satanic fleas, and plans to take over the world. Creepy crypts, giant globes filled with swimming heads, monsters, demons, ghosts, but somehow this felt more grounded in reality than any other zombie book I've read. Maybe because of the "found format" bit--and how thoroughly it covers the origin of how this came to be (which I would say 99% of other zombie books skip entirely). Moreby features in many of these stories, though not seen really in the last one, here we get straight to the heart of it--how zombies start to get smarter, by eating brains of humans, absorbing their skills and memories (sort of seen in the last one, with Elizabethan zombies able to pick up car keys and drive for short distances). Heck, even Shakespeare makes his undead reappearance. Now there are zombie armies, leaders, presidents, eager zombie theatrics led by an undead Oscar Wilde & Andrew Lloyd Webber among others, and of course the people trying to survive.
And due to how the infection also spreads via fleas, well it does add a wrinkle to things. You cannot get bit by a zombie, but a billion fleas outside harder to dodge. Whole new thing to be afraid of. The only story I was a little unenthused by was the Fright Club section. The Parisian fashion writer detailing for her editor the fall of Paris perhaps my favorite. It's still mainly UK-centric, but America, France, and especially Russia get their chance to shine too. Since, ALL dead rise from cemeteries in this book, Lenin reawakening from his waxy embalmed splendor was good in the embassy dispatches. And while it hits the horror and pathos buttons, it also has a streak of humor running throughout.
With these, I think no middle ground--you'll either love or hate this book. It might depend on how well you can decipher cursive, since a good portion of this book (last book too, but mostly those letters were in print) is in cursive, and made me reflect again on the slipping standards of penmanship. Whoever was in charge with the formatting and artwork of this book deserves a raise--the attention to detail and just the wit of the layout was impressive. Guess you can't judge a book by its cover!