Unexpected event: reading two books in a row by Robert Kirkman. And both with zombies, at that, despite the fact that he apparently writes lots of non-zombie scripts as well? (I have some small evidence of this, at least.) So the main difference is that I started off kind of angry about this book; the first few moments contained a bait-and-switch that made me pretty confident the series will in fact never end and not-at-all confident about my willingness to be dragged along for the next 72 issues. But then, over the course of the rest of the book, Kirkman reminded me why I’m still on this ride in the first place, which is that he really is good at the psychology of the zombie apocalypse, not to mention good at tension.

Life Among Them raises a new question that has not been asked before in the series: is it possible to go back to the old life? And although watching various familiar characters trying to adapt to the hope and possible fact of new safety, among people who claim to have held it for some time, is interesting enough on its own merits, I was most taken with my own reactions so similar to the characters. Constantly looking for something out of place, latching onto to anything strange, and unwilling to let my own guard down. If that’s how I feel about it, it must be only the very tip of how tense they feel. And by the end of the book, other new questions are being raised, questions that leave me squirming uncomfortably and yet still completely sold on at least one more volume, just to see where he goes next. Considering I started off angry, that’s a pretty neat trick.

The downside of the many brief glimpses of plot lines that are not yet quite relevant to Cassandra Hack’s current circumstances is that, not reading the entire storyline in one huge gulp[1], it’s easy to get lost and not quite remember people when they do finally take center stage. The upsides more than make up for that, though; not only is there a sense of a world that matters out there, a world that is moving and changing and preparing to hand nubile slasher-killer Cassie her next big emotional or physical face-plant, but a quick glance at my previous review is usually more than enough to remind me of what was going on. I mean, these are really good T&A horror-films-presented-as-comics, but they’re still T&A horror stories, and only so much depth of plot or theme can be accommodated between panels of girls naked in bathtubs or disrobing prior to exactly the kind of sexual shenanigans that rile up slashers so much in the first place.

In this particular case, the depth of plot that is permissible revolves mostly around revelations about the cult that has made the world the way it is, which is to say: full of dead and yet unkillable slashers that mindlessly stamp out “sin”, by which we tend to mean underage drinking, drug use, or pre-marital sex. Mix that with a handful of those hints about what else is going on that I previously mentioned, a few scenes of light angst for  Cassie and her comrade-in-arms Vlad, and probably an only four-to-one ratio of regular panels to titillating ones, and there’s not really room for anything else in the latest such volume, New Blood, Old Wounds. I know I’m making these sound like a guilty pleasure kind of read, but even if I were guilty about reading them, the truth is, they’re a little bit higher rent than the connotation behind that phrase. Not a lot higher, but a little bit.

[1] I mean, I wouldn’t anyway, but the incomplete nature of the series would make it impossible even were I so inclined.