Michael Ford - Z

His father looked at him with a surprised expression. “You sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” said Josh.

“You’re the boss,” his father said as he laid two other steaks on the grill.

He poked the steaks with a fork. Juice ran from the holes and fell onto the grill, popping and hissing. Each crackle released another burst of the meaty smell, making Josh swallow hard as he imagined putting the meat in his mouth and chewing it. He had to force himself not to snatch the remaining raw steak from the plate and start gnawing on it.

It must be the Z, he realized. It’s working.

Charlie had told him that the drug made you feel wild. Now Josh understood what she meant. He did feel wild, almost animal-like. He could still think, but another part of him was growing more powerful by the minute, a part he had never experienced so clearly before. He felt his heart racing.

“Here, you take over.”

Someone was speaking to him. Josh looked at the speaker, and for a moment he couldn’t tell who it was. He saw a faceless body, a body that coursed with blood and smelled the same as the meat on the grill. Then his vision cleared, and he realized that he was looking at his father. He was holding the meat fork out to Josh.

“Oh,” Josh said, trying to remember where he was. “Yeah. I’ll do it.” He took the fork from his father and went to stand in front of the grill.

“I’m going to go help your mother set the table,” his father said. “Let those cook another couple of minutes, then turn them over. Put your steak on when you flip those, and turn it after two minutes.”

Josh nodded. His father left him alone, and he stood staring at the cooking meat. Once again the amazing smell overwhelmed him. He reached out with the fork and pierced one of the steaks. Juice dripped onto the grill, where it bubbled and blackened. The rest pooled on top of the meat. Josh touched it with his fingertip and ran it over his lips, smearing them with blood. His tongue flicked out and licked it off. The iron taste filled his mouth, and he wanted more.

His steak was still waiting to go on the grill. Instead of putting it on, he took a knife and cut off a large chunk. Shoving it into his mouth, he chewed it with big bites, his teeth shredding the meat into pieces that he gulped down greedily. It was amazing, and he picked up the knife to cut some more.

“Are you eating raw meat?”

Emily was standing in the doorway, looking at Josh with an expression of disgust. “Do you know what lives in meat?” she said. “You could totally get worms.”

Josh heard her talking, but he was more interested in the way she smelled. Like the steak, she reeked with the aroma of blood. He could hear her heart beating. No, he could feel her heart beating, pushing blood through her veins.

“Hello?”

Josh shook his head to clear it. Emily was pointing to the grill, where the steaks were starting to smoke. Josh looked at them for a moment, not realizing what was happening. Then something in his mind turned back on, and he understood that he needed to do something. He quickly flipped the steaks over. The sides that had been against the grill were blackened.

“Mom’s going to kill you,” Emily decreed before turning around and marching out of the room.

Josh turned his attention back to the steaks. He added his own to the grill and tried to ignore the smell. Something weird was definitely going on in his head, and he knew it had to be the Z. It’s your reptile brain taking over, he told himself. He didn’t know whether that was true or not, but whatever it was, it felt really weird. Weird and kind of exciting. It was as if he’d become somebody else—no, something else.

That thing was still inside of him, and it was growing stronger. Slowly Josh felt the part of his brain that could think clearly shutting down as the other, wild part took over. Everything grew a little hazy as his eyesight changed but his sense of smell intensified.

“Josh, are those steaks done?”

He heard his mother’s voice, but when he answered her all that came out was a growling sound.

“They smell done,” said his mother. “I think they’re ready.”

Josh managed to get the steaks off the grill and onto a plate, but the smell was almost too much for him. He had to push himself away from the counter before he tore into all four steaks. As it was, he grabbed his own steak and ran with it into the bathroom. Slamming the door, he sat down on the floor and began devouring the meat.

He held the steak in both hands, ripping at it with his teeth. It was still mostly raw, and blood dripped from the shredded pieces. He barely tasted the chunks of meat as he swallowed them, almost choking. He’d never been so ravenous in his life.

A banging on the door stopped him. “You all right in there?” his father called out.

Josh looked at the steak in his hands. Blood covered his fingers, and there were chunks of meat on the floor around him. He stopped himself from picking them up and eating them.

“I’m okay,” he answered his father. He had to concentrate hard on speaking the words.

“Well, don’t stay in there all night,” his father said. “Dinner’s ready.”

Josh said nothing, but he heard his father walk away. He looked once more at the steak in his hands. There was very little of it left—mostly fat and some stringy pieces covered in blood. Looking at it made him both sick and hungry. Before he couldn’t resist any longer, he dropped the remaining meat into the toilet. He scooped up the pieces on the floor and added them as well, then flushed the whole mess down. He watched the meat swirl around the bowl and disappear.

He went to the sink and turned on the cold water. Bending down, he put his mouth under the tap and let the water fill it. It washed away some of the meat taste, but not all of it. He drank some more, swallowing and trying to rinse the blood from his throat. He suddenly felt like he might throw up.

He turned the water off and looked at himself in the mirror. His pupils were huge black circles.

The wild feeling was still there, waiting. As sick as he felt, there was something really exciting about letting that other part of him take over for a little while. Everything felt more real, more raw, more alive.

If that’s what being a zombie felt like, he was surprised. He’d always thought of them as being stupid, mindless things that didn’t know what they were doing and didn’t feel anything. But he felt so much. All he did was feel. Every sensation was intense beyond words. And he didn’t need words because there was no reason to think about anything.

Next time it will be easier, he told himself. I’ll be ready.

He washed his hands, checked his eyes to see if his pupils were any smaller (they were, a little), and got ready to join everyone for dinner. He didn’t know what he was going to say about the steak, but he would come up with something. He would be funny, and they would all have a good time.

Charlie was right—there was nothing to worry about. The Z had been a little intense, but nothing too heavy. Best of all, he had enjoyed it, and it really had opened his mind up to what it might feel like to be a zombie. He could see why Charlie took it while she was playing the game. It really made you think like a z did.

He thought about the game tomorrow. It was going to be great. He laughed. His life had changed radically over the past few days. “And this is just the beginning,” he told his reflection.

It was raining hard the next morning. The wind blew the water across the beach in heavy sheets, carrying with it discarded candy wrappers, empty cans, and other trash that littered the sand. The ocean lapped at the shore with dirty brown tongues flecked with yellowish foam. A dead gull, its feathers matted and torn, was dragged into the water by a wave.