Zombie Apocalypse Narrative

Most of us piled out of the room, bombarding Amber with questions, Ben being the only one to stay behind.
"Who is he? Where is he? Is he a zombie?" All blended into a single sound as she stepped back under the assault.
Ben, who had stayed in the break room half asleep, stated loudly, "Tell him we’re doing the dishes, to come back later."
Amber just ignored his comment. "I just saw him for a second," she explained. "I don't even know if he is really a he at all," she said, clarifying her first statement.
We decided to take a peak. The person was at the front door, so we used all possible stealth as we approached the glass entryway. Each of us took a quick peek around the receptionist's desk to assuage our curiosity. The person was, in fact, a woman. Her tan of course. Why wouldn't I?" he stammered.
I couldn't believe it. Was he trying to tell me he was studying the life cycle of these undead? "What do you think you are doing?"
"I am trying to figure out why the undead are really undead. What is causing this outbreak. Why they act the way they do. Survive."
I couldn't believe it. He was actually working during a, as Dean had called it, zombie apocalypse. I knew my husband was obsessive about his work, but I couldn't believe he was this far gone.
"I think I have some valid hypothesis about the cause of the outbreak and why the dead are acting the way they do," he added.
"And?" I asked, prompting him.
"I have nothing concrete, mind you, but it looks very much like some type of parasite is at the cause of this whole epidemic," he answered. "I won't know until I have conclusive evidence."
Everyone in the hallway stood shocked, totally silent. We stood staring at him in disbelief, unable to process the mere fact that he had spent this whole time he was fighting for survival studying the creatures. observing the undead while fighting for his life.
"Are you saying that you think there could be a cure for them?" I asked, thinking of poor