"I do," she said, matter-of-fact. "Everyone does. Did. Hell, the dogs have it." She jerked her chin over her shoulder in the direction of the skateboard being tugged along gently behind them, the motion making her long braid sway like a pendulum. "They're under the amplification threshold weight, though. That's the reason they were bred down so small. Any mammal over about forty pounds, though?" She held out her hands in front of her like makeshift claws and adopted a vacant, open-mouthed expression that was universal for zombie. "Do you know, we can't go swimming in the ocean any more? Zombie dolphins might get you."
She shrugged. "On the upside, I'm pretty much never sick and I can't get cancer. And since coming here, the virus seems to have changed so I'm not a walking Typhoid Mary by virtue of just walking around in public. Which is awesome, by the way; I hate how I look in biohazard gear." She tossed Lestat a lopsided smile, throwing the arm not currently holding leashes around his shoulder.