Michael Ford - Z

The zombie kept coming. Then, when it saw Josh and Firecracker standing with flamethrowers pointed at it, it stopped. It started to turn, but Charlie and Scrawl were closing in from the other side. The zombie raised its arms as if to cover its face with its hands, and that’s when Josh saw that its right arm ended in a stump.

“On three!” he heard Scrawl shout. “One! Two! Three!”

All four of them fired their weapons at the zombie. It was consumed in a fireball that immediately blackened the walls and ceiling. Flames whipped around the zombie like a tornado. The creature stood perfectly still for a few seconds, then collapsed into a pile like burning leaves. Josh and Firecracker stood on one side of it, looking through the fire at Charlie and Scrawl.

When the flames died down, Charlie ran to Josh. “She knew,” she said. “She knew we were going to kill her. I’ve never seen one run away before.” She choked back tears. “Josh, it was horrible.”

Josh reached into his pocket and removed the ring. “Have you seen this before?” he asked Charlie.

She took the ring and looked at it. Then her hand began to shake.

“Freya,” she whispered. “It’s Freya’s.”

“There are eight left,” Josh said as they pounded down the stairs to the second floor. He clenched his fist, feeling Freya’s ring press against his palm. Rage burned in his chest. He looked at his watch. “Forty-five minutes left,” he called out. They had wasted time, and it was his fault. After they torched Freya, he had fallen apart, cursing Clatter and screaming in pain and anger over what his friend had been turned into. The others, not knowing what to do, had let him yell it out.

Now he was filled with new strength. Eight z’s stood between him and Clatter, and he was determined to find them. He strode down the hallway, abandoning the two-to-a-side plan and kicking in every door he saw. The second floor held more examination rooms, as well as what seemed to be offices for the doctors. They found the next zombie in one of those, standing by the wall and staring dumbly up at a framed diploma, like he was trying to read it. Josh noted the name on the z’s tag—PAUL—before giving Scrawl the okay to torch him.

They found two more zombies on the floor, a woman named Gwen sitting in a kind of living room staring at an old broken television set, and a man named Virgil hiding in a closet. They each went down with barely a fight.

“I’ve got to say, these meatbags have been pretty tame,” Firecracker remarked as they regrouped at the head of the last flight of stairs. “I’ve played holo-z’s meaner than these ones.”

“He’s saving the worst for last,” said Scrawl. “I guarantee it. Probably the ones who’ve been turned the longest. They’re totally gone. Nothing inside but pure instinct to kill.”

“Whatever they are, they’re still people,” Charlie said, shooting Firecracker a dirty look. “Remember that.”

“Okay,” Josh said. He checked the fuel level on his flamethrower. “We’re low on firepower and we’ve got five more zombies standing between us and walking out of here. I don’t know what we’re going to find down there, but whatever it is, I’m not going down without a fight.”

“I’m with you,” Scrawl said.

“Me too,” Charlie agreed.

Firecracker nodded. “Let’s do it,” he said.

“What’s our time?” Scrawl asked Josh.

“Twenty-five minutes,” Josh answered. “None to waste.”

They went down the stairs. The first floor was different from the others. There were no examination rooms, no offices. In fact, it looked like a hotel lobby—one that had been bombed over and over again. The walls were covered with water-stained wallpaper that hung in ribbons where it had fallen away. The dusty old furniture had nearly disintegrated into piles of sawdust and scraps of velvet. A huge chandelier that had once hung in the asylum’s grand foyer lay on the marble floor, its shattered crystals sparkling like diamonds in the moonlight that managed to find its way through the boarded-up windows.

“This is the only floor the families ever saw,” Scrawl said as he surveyed the ruins. “The administrators wanted them to think this was more like a country club than a mental hospital.”

“So where do we go?” Charlie asked.

“That way is blocked,” said Josh, looking down the hallway running south. The ceiling there had caved in, and the corridor was impassable. “It looks like we don’t have a choice.”

“He’s herding us,” Scrawl said. “Whatever is down this way, Clatter set it up.”

Josh nodded in agreement. “Then let’s get the show over with,” he said.

The hallway seemed to go on forever. They moved quickly, taking turns stepping into any rooms they came to and doing a quick sweep. Josh didn’t expect to find any z’s there, and they didn’t. He’s trying to get us to run our time out, he thought.

Finally they came to the intersection of the north and west corridors. Like the south corridor, the west was also blocked by debris. The only option remaining was to go through a small door set in the inside wall.

“The garden,” Scrawl said. “He wants us in the garden.”

Josh tried the handle of the door. It turned easily, and the door swung out. Moonlight flooded the hallway, and Josh blinked a couple of times. After the darkness of the upper floors, even the weak light of the quarter moon took some getting used to.

The walls of Feverfew rose up all around the garden. The dark panes of the windows stared blankly out at the overgrown plants and the crumbling fountain at the garden’s center, where headless figures stood reaching their cold hands up to the sky. The air was rich with the smells of dirt and rot.

“They could be anywhere in there,” Charlie said, looking at the jungle of trees and flowers. “There’s no way we can find them in time.”

“Then they need to find us,” said Josh.

The others looked at him, confused. “How?” Firecracker asked.

“We torch the whole place,” Josh said. “The one thing they’re afraid of is fire. We’ll smoke them out. There’s only one way in and out of here, right?”

“As far as I know,” said Scrawl. “But Clatter could have made another one.”

“We’ll have to risk it,” Josh said. “We’re almost out of time.”

“But how will we get out?” asked Charlie.

“One of us will guard the door,” Josh said. “Make sure nobody locks it. The other three will set fires.” He looked at Charlie. “You stay here.”

“Why me?” Charlie argued. “Why not him?” She nodded at Firecracker. “He’s the one with no experience.”

Firecracker snorted. “What kind of experience do you need to set something on fire?” he countered.

“You’re guarding the door because you have more experience,” Josh said to Charlie. “If anyone—or anything—tries to come through that door or close it, you stop them.”

“All right then,” Charlie said. “Go start your fires.”

The three boys headed for the trees. “We’ll start in the back and move this way,” Josh said. “Firecracker, you take the left. Scrawl, you take the right. I’ll go up the middle. We run through, start blasting, and run back here. Got it?”

“Got it,” Scrawl and Firecracker said.

“And don’t forget, there are z’s in there somewhere. Don’t engage them, even if you see them. You’ll just get stuck in the crossfire. Avoid them and get back here.”

Scrawl looked at him. “You think this will work?”

“I don’t know,” Josh answered truthfully.

He counted down from three. At one, the three of them took off into the garden. Josh saw Firecracker and Scrawl disappear into the darkness; then he was plunging headlong through the overgrown grass. It was still wet from the rain, and he hoped it would light.