Michael Ford - Z

Scrawl pointed up once more. Then he led as they climbed the stairs. Josh kept his eyes trained up, trying to see through the steps. But there was nothing. And no sound came either.

They climbed one level, then another. There was no sign of the zombie, and Josh’s neck hurt from craning his head upward. He was starting to think that the game wasn’t going well for him, and that Clatter would tell him he wasn’t good enough to be on the team.

When they reached the third level, Josh looked down to stretch his neck muscles and noticed that the platform was splattered with blood. Following the trail, he saw that it disappeared though a doorway. Tapping Scrawl on the arm, he nodded toward the opening. Then he held up one finger, letting Scrawl know that he would go first.

He stepped through the doorway and went into a crouch. Scrawl stepped in behind him. They were in a hallway. The blood trail continued before them. Josh stood up, and he and Scrawl began to move forward in the dimly lit corridor.

It’s got to be here somewhere, Josh thought, trying not to think about how realistic the blood and hair on the pipe had looked.

The hallway ended about twenty yards from where they had entered. In front of them was a door covering a pass-through hatch. It was held closed by five thick bars of steel that radiated out like the arms of a starfish from a central wheel. Turning the wheel would retract the bars and open the door. There was blood on the wheel.

Josh turned to Scrawl. “It’s through there,” he said. “It must have gone through and closed the door from the other side.” It was a pretty smart move for a zombie, and Josh wondered if the person playing the part wasn’t being a little too clever.

Scrawl nodded in agreement. “Let’s go,” he said. “But be careful.”

Josh set his flamethrower down. He reached out and, avoiding the blood, tried to turn the big wheel. But it was rusted shut. He put all his weight into it. Soon sweat was running down his face and his muscles ached, but no matter how hard he pushed or pulled, he couldn’t budge it.

Suddenly a horrible roar came from behind him. Josh whirled around and saw a zombie standing in the doorway he and Scrawl had just come through. It was a woman. Her long hair was matted, and her face was covered with sores. Above her right eye was a huge gash. Her scalp was torn open. Blood oozed from the wound and ran down her cheek, which was streaked with dried gore. She really looks like a meatbag, Josh thought, impressed by all the trouble Clatter had taken to make the game more realistic. Still, Josh was kind of creeped out seeing something so gross in real life.

Scrawl dropped down and aimed his flamethrower at the zombie, who was shuffling toward them. Her mouth was open, and long strings of drool hung from her battered lips. She moaned loudly as she moved. It almost sounds like she’s trying to talk, Josh thought as he raised his flamethrower.

He waited for Scrawl to shoot. As the Torcher closest to the z, he had first shot. But Scrawl seemed to be struggling with his flamethrower.

“It’s jammed!” he cried out. “I can’t fire!”

The zombie was getting closer, and the gurgling in her throat was getting louder as she neared her prey. She reached out her hands.

“Torch her!” Scrawl shouted. “Now!”

Scrawl flattened himself on the floor of the hallway and covered his head with his arms. Josh aimed his flamethrower at the zombie, who was only a dozen feet away now, and pulled the trigger.

Flames erupted from the end of the torch. Josh watched, shocked, as the ball of flame hurtled toward the z, hit her in the chest, and bloomed. The zombie let out an unearthly scream and began beating uselessly at the flames as they consumed her dress. She staggered back toward the door, her hair blazing and her face engulfed in flames.

Josh could only stare at her burning figure. His eyes saw that the zombie was on fire, but his mind couldn’t understand what was happening. It’s not real, he told himself. It’s just a game. The torch isn’t supposed to really work. Was it some kind of holographic trick? No, it was too real. Had he accidentally been given a real flamethrower instead of an electronic one?

The zombie managed to get out of the hallway, which was now brutally hot and filled with black smoke and the foul stench of burning meat. A moment later Josh heard a muffled thud.

“Come on,” Scrawl said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

He and Josh ran for the doorway. When they exited onto the platform, Josh looked over the railing. Far below them the burning body of the z lay on the floor. Then, to his horror, the zombie moved. She pulled herself along with her hands, managing to get about ten feet before collapsing.

Scrawl scrambled quickly down the stairs. Josh followed. When they reached the bottom, they ran to the burning body. It was now nothing more than a charred mess, unrecognizable as anything approaching human. The flamethrower had done its job.

Josh heard a crackling sound. Then the robotic voice he’d heard earlier said, “The quarry has been eradicated. Please report back to the rendezvous site.”

The lights went up and Josh blinked as his eyes adjusted. Scrawl turned and started to walk away, but Josh grabbed his arm. “Hold up,” he said. “What just happened? That thing was real. The flamethrower is real. It’s not supposed to work.”

“It’s a game,” said Scrawl. “That’s all.”

He pulled his arm away from Josh’s grip and kept walking. Josh took one more look at the smoking body of the zombie and trotted after Scrawl.

“That is real,” he said. “You can’t tell me it isn’t.”

“You did a good job,” Scrawl said. “Well, except for taking us into a dead end. But you didn’t know the door wouldn’t open.”

“And you did?” asked Josh.

Scrawl grinned. “Got you,” he said. “The whole thing was set up to see how you’d do.”

Josh’s mouth fell open. “Then the z wasn’t—”

“Cybernetic,” Scrawl told him. “Clatter’s a robotics genius. He builds them for fun. Pretty real, huh?”

Josh sighed. “Too real,” he said. “I just about lost it when the torch shot flame.”

Scrawl laughed. “I did too the first time,” he said. “That’s another of Clatter’s tricks. He switches it on from the monitoring room.”

“But I could have torched you!” Josh objected.

“No chance,” said Scrawl. “Well, maybe a small chance, but Clatter doesn’t make it live until he’s sure you’re in position and anyone with you is out of the way.”

Josh found himself laughing with relief.

“The guy’s a little bit nuts,” said Scrawl. “But you’ve got to admit, that was intense.”

“Yeah,” Josh agreed. “It was.”

“You liked it,” said Scrawl. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Josh hesitated a moment. “Yeah,” he said again. “I did.”

They walked in silence until they got back to the starting point. Clatter and the other team members were there. When Josh drew near they all started clapping loudly. Charlie came up and high-fived him. “I knew you’d do it,” she said. Then she grinned. “Of course when I did my first run, I nailed the meatbag in about half that time.”

“That was very good work,” Clatter told Josh.

“That was a very realistic zombie,” Josh replied.

Clatter laughed. “It’s nothing,” he said, although he sounded pleased. “Just a little hobby.”

Josh looked at the others. “So you were all in on this?”

Black-Eyed Susan laughed. “Consider it your initiation,” she said.

“We were all watching from the monitor room,” Finnegan explained. “You really kept your cool.”