Michael Ford: Z

The zombie was somewhere ahead of him. Its stench—a combination of blood, dirt, and rotting meat—filled the air. It was close. Josh flipped the safety on his flamethrower and held it out in front of him, his finger on the trigger. Almost all the overhead lights were out, and the halogen light mounted on the barrel of his flamethrower had broken during a runin with a z on a lower floor. He could see only about six feet ahead of him through the gloom.

The hospital’s hallway was littered with trash; broken glass, charred pieces of paper, and twisted medical instruments were strewn around the floor. Dark smears streaked the white tile walls. Ahead of Josh a teddy bear sat propped against the wall just outside a partially open door, its fur stained with something black and sticky. Its head was torn off and lay in its lap. Stuffing puffed from the ragged neck.

Something about the bear caused a shiver to run down Josh’s spine. Clearly it had belonged to a little kid. But where was the kid now? He hoped wherever it was, it hadn’t already been turned by the zombies. Child zombies were the worst. Josh hated torching them.

But I will if I have to, he thought as he approached the door.

Using the end of his weapon, he nudged the door open. The only light in the room came from one ceiling fixture, and the bulb flickered as it tried to draw electricity from the hospital’s ancient wiring. The room was visible for only a few seconds at a time as the light flashed on and off. Josh felt like he was watching an old movie being played on a broken projector.

Even with the limited light he could see enough to know that the woman on the bed was dead. She was dressed in a nurse’s uniform, her white dress stained with what could only be blood. Her head lolled to one side so that her face was turned toward Josh. Her eyes were gone, and there was a ragged hole in her throat where the zombie had bitten her. One arm was stretched out, and the fingers of that hand were curled, clutching a clump of long blond hair that was attached to a piece of bloody scalp. On the floor below the hand, a hypodermic needle lay in a pool of liquid.

She tried to kill it with the needle, Josh thought. But it got her.

Part of him was glad she was dead. If she’d been alive, he would have had to torch her, since she’d obviously been bitten and therefore could infect other people. That was the First Rule of Torching: Cleanse with fire.

Suddenly something scrambled out from under the bed, heading for the far side of the room. Whatever it was whimpered like a frightened animal. Instinctively Josh raised his flamethrower. But the thing was running away from him. If it had been a zombie, it would have come at him. They never ran away. He took his finger off the flamethrower’s trigger.

“Are you okay?” he called out. He was thinking about the teddy bear. Had the child who owned it been in the room when the zombie attacked? Maybe the kid had hidden under the bed and escaped the zombie’s notice. If so, it was Josh’s responsibility to help. That was the Second Rule of Torching: Save all humans.

When the light flickered back on for a moment, he searched the shadows. Huddled in the corner of the room was a little girl. Maybe six or seven years old, she was wearing a torn, dirty dress and no shoes. Her long hair hung down in her face. She was breathing quickly, and as Josh approached, she pressed herself against the wall and began shaking her head from side to side.

“No,” she said softly. “Don’t kill me. Please.”

Josh stopped and crouched down. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?”

The little girl stared at him. He searched her eyes for any sign of the infection, but in the dim light he couldn’t see well enough to tell for sure. She seemed okay.

That kind of thinking can get you killed, he told himself. But he had to help. He couldn’t just leave the girl there.

“Vi—” the girl said. Her voice cracked when she spoke, and she tried again. “Vi… Violet.”

“Hi, Violet. I’m Josh. You and I are going to get out of here, okay?”

“But the monsters…” Violet said. She looked at the body on the bed, and her mouth began to tremble.

“Look at me,” Josh told her. “Violet, look at me.”

When the girl was looking at him, he held out his hand to her. “It’s going to be okay.”

Violet hesitated a moment, then took his hand. He helped her to her feet. He could feel her shaking. I don’t blame her, he thought. He wanted to ask how she’d survived so long in the hospital without a zombie finding her, but now was not the time.

“We’re going to go into the hall now,” he told Violet.

She pulled away, shaking her head. “They’re out there,” she said. “They’re waiting for us.”

“Most of them are dead,” said Josh. “My friend and I took care of them.”

“Where is your friend now?” Violet asked.

You shouldn’t have said anything, you idiot. Josh scolded himself for his mistake. The fact was, he didn’t know whether Firecracker was alive or dead. His comlink had broken during the scuffle with the zombie in the operating room on the fourth floor, and he hadn’t been able to reach him since. All he got was static. He hoped his buddy wasn’t dead—or, even worse, turned. Then he would have to torch him too. The Third Rule of Torching, he thought. You can’t bring them back.

He pushed the thought from his mind and focused on Violet. He needed her to listen to him, otherwise both of them could end up as zombie food. “We’ll meet up with my friend soon,” he said, hoping that was true. “Right now you just have to trust me, okay?”

Violet looked into his eyes. Her own were barely visible in the still-blinking light. “Okay,” she said softly.

Josh led Violet from the room, making sure to keep himself between her and the bed so that she wouldn’t have to look at the dead nurse. He noticed that the little girl kept her head down until they were in the hallway. Smart kid. “We’re going to go to the end of this hallway,” he said. “There’s an elevator there, and we’re going to take it down to the first floor and get out of here.”

“Is everybody dead?” Violet asked. “The nurses? The doctors? All the people?”

“Just stay behind me,” said Josh, ignoring her question.

As they reached each new doorway, Josh peered inside, always keeping his finger on the trigger of his flamethrower. But the rooms were all empty. Whoever had been in them was either eaten or turned.

Finally they came to the end of the hall. In front of them were the elevator doors. Hallways continued both to the left and to the right. Josh made a quick scan, saw nothing, and hit the down button on the elevator’s control panel. He hoped the hospital’s unreliable wiring would hold up long enough for them to get out. Somewhere below them came the sound of machinery grinding to life, then the thuck-thuck-thuck as the elevator car rose up on its heavy cable.

As the hand on the dial above the elevator doors slowly crept from B to 1 to 2, Josh surveyed the hallways in each direction. If there were any zombies on the floor, they would have heard the elevator and started to move toward the sound. Good thing they’re slow, he thought. Still, they could move when they needed to. He knew that from experience. And all it took was one bite to ruin your day.

The 3 on the dial lit up. “Come on,” Josh urged the clanking machinery. “Hurry up.”