Bloor Line, slouched in the corner.

East African male, mid 20s, wearing black leather jacket, black cap, red glasses and slick lip gloss.

World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War, Max Brooks (Three Rivers Press)

Halfway through:

The name, Avalon, comes from some stock footage one of the students had shot during the siege. It was the night before their last, worst attack, when a fresh horde from the east was clearly visible on the horizon. The kids were hard at work - sharpening weapons, reinforcing defenses, standing guard on the walls and towers. A song came floating across the campus from the loudspeaker that played constant music to keep moral up. A Scripps student, with a voice like an angel, was singing the Roxy Music song. It was such a beautiful rendition, and such a contrast with the raging storm about to hit. I laid it over my "preparing for battle" montage. I still get choked up when I hear it.

He was 13, stretched out in the basement watching television. The window was propped open, the screen in place to deter curious cats from poking in their heads. The sound of feet passing by didn't startle him. It was dark and all the street noises had become one--ball hockey out front, a car radio two houses down. Besides, the gate was locked. If someone was in the backyard, it would mean they'd scaled the fence, pausing beneath the window where his mother slept.

That was the night he learned to believe in monsters.