It's terrifying. Not the book, or the plotline / story, which is fairly standard, classic zombie scenario. What makes it reach into the guts of your childhood and rip you apart is the setting and the people it takes - these are characters you grew up with, who represented everything you associated with the innocence of childhood.
There were no deaths, no drugs, no getting drunk. Nobody was poor, and everyone had a car, a loving family, and no problems. No sex. Music. Dances. The beach. Food and drink. School. Everyone was... happy. And we were happy with them.
It was a time-warp world that never changed, frozen for nearly a century in a perfect childhood we outgrew in barely a few years.
Seeing that memory, something you held sacred as a cornerstone of your own innocence, crumbled, mangled, chewed up and spat out as a bloody pulp, it made me understand that nothing is inviolate. And that realization... it bruised something. There are things in life that are precious to you, innocent, good, but simple goodness is no protection.
Read it in the clear light of day, and you'll be bored or amused.
Read it in the dark of night, your family asleep in the next room and the world waiting outside, and... prepare to lose a little piece of your childhood.
And you won't find it again, because now death and destruction, pain and loss, have touched that memory. The bruise will fade, but it'll never be forgotten.
À la recherche du temps perdu.