by Racquel Marie
Feiwel & Friends, 2025. 336 pages. Horror.
A colorful creative who spends as much time fearing death as she does trying to hide that fear from her loved ones, Flora Braddock Paz has always considered herself weak. But half a year into the global outbreak of a rabies mutation that transforms people into violent, zombielike "rabids," she and her older brother Cain are still alive. With their mom dead, their dad missing, and their LA suburb left desolate, they form a new plan to venture out to the secluded Northern California cabin they vacationed in growing up―their best chance at a safe haven and maybe even seeing their dad again. The dangers of the world have changed, but so has Flora. Still, their journey up the state is complicated by encounters with familiar faces, new allies, hidden truths, and painful memories of the family’s final time making this trip last year. And for Flora, one thing inevitably remains: no matter how far you run, death is never far behind.
I haven't read very many apocalyptic stories that feature queer or neurodiverse characters, and this one refreshingly has both. The sibling dynamics between Flora and Cain seemed very true to life. This spooky little read has its fair share of violence and gore, but it mainly centers on community, family, and belonging. This wasn't nearly as nightmare-inducing as the bone-chilling oeuvre of Stephen King and the like (but I did have to pause when a certain inevitable scene involving the dog Biscuit came around... don't worry, the dog doesn't die).
