by Gayle Katz
“You can do it,” said Charlie, getting back into the fight again.
In the distance was the sound of gunshots. They came closer. The zombies in the room turned and looked back.
“Are they finally here?” asked Charlie.
The zombies lost interest in the teens and started shuffling back the way they came. The team took down a few more, and then followed the zombies out of the room and through the cage.
Ahead of them, they saw two men.
“Well, it’s about time you got here,” said Charlie.
“Hey, Charlie, nice to see you.” It was Mark.
“Hey, Mark. What’s up?” said Charlie, at a loss for what to say.
“Well, looks like you got trapped in here with these guys. Sergeant Chris and I got the message from a Sergeant Bourne in Portland. We came out right after the earthquake. We had to fight our way through masses of zombies.”
Owen and Zan took out the last of the zombies. After a few minutes, the hall was completely clear, with no zombie in sight.
“Thank you so much,” said Charlie. “We are exhausted. I don’t know how much longer we could have gone on.”
“That’s why we’re on call,” said Mark.
“So many questions,” said Charlie, as the two men led the group down the hallway and back to the stairs.
“So, you’re a zlayer too?” asked Charlie.
“Yep,” said Mark. “Chris is just a cop though. I wish I’d known you were a zlayer earlier,” he said, smiling at her.
“Yeah, me too,” she said, smiling back.
“Go back to the hotel. Get some sleep,” said Chris.
Chapter 15
________________________________________
“I’ve never met any male zlayers before,” said Charlie to Stewart over the telephone.
“Well, there are some who exist,” he said, “but often they have other powers, such as Owen and his truthsayer abilities, and they have to learn how to fight, rather than being backed up by magic, like you and Zan are.”
“Cool,” said Charlie. “So, he has some other magical ability then?”
“Well, not necessarily. He might have just been forced into it. Like that cop you told me about, Sergeant Chris. Technically, he’s a zlayer too, but he was just thrust into it.”
“Oh, I see what you’re saying,” said Charlie. “So, technically, there really are no male zlayers then?”
“Not born into it, no.”
She sighed.
“Anyway, Chris told Bourne that the underground is now under wraps. Their zlaying team will go in and tackle any remaining zombies. So, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“Great,” said Charlie. “Say, one more question. If I get bitten by zombies here, would I turn into one?”
“That’s a good question,” said Stewart. “The very nature of these zombies makes them even more powerful than our zombies here. The Victorian zombies have been around for some time, affected by some strong magic that’s kept them alive for so long. While we know our donut-infected zombies here don’t live very long, the zombies from the outbreak last September wouldn’t have lasted for over a century.”
“Wow,” said Charlie. “Just when I think I know all there is about zombies, there is a whole new strain. Err, I mean, old new strain.”
“You didn’t get bitten, did you?”
Charlie looked at the small bite mark on her arm. “No, but it would be good to know. Oh, what happened with Gran and the spell book?” asked Charlie.
“Oh, right. She refused to discuss it with me. She said once you’re back, she’d like to have a meeting with everyone.”
“OK,” said Charlie. “But that is weird. Usually she lets me do my own thing.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Stewart. “We’ll get it sorted. I still have the original copy of the spell book in my safety deposit box.”
“That’s great,” said Charlie. “I’m not worried about it. It’s not like Gran is a zleader or anything.”
Stewart laughed. “Nope. But she does want something. OK, so, try and get some schoolwork or tours done or something. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Right,” said Charlie, yawning. “It’s off to the art museum today.” She hung up. She really hoped she’d make it through the school tour today. She was so tired. She scratched her arm. It was itchy where the zombie’s teeth had brushed up against her skin. It was normal that she’d have a tiny scratch there, but just in case, she applied some antibiotic ointment from her first-aid kit.
zzz
The team lazily wandered through the art museum. Fortunately, they only had to endure a short talk before being set loose.
“Hey, guys,” said Mark. “Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up late last night partying?”
“What?” said Zan, rubbing her forehead.
“Funny,” said Charlie. “Say, how do you know Chris?”
“Oh, I’m from Seattle,” said Mark. “I just moved to Portland in August. I know the city well, almost too well. My parents moved us, as they were aware of my abilities.”
“Oh,” said Charlie, understanding. “It’s too bad when you have a calling and they won’t let you perform your duties.”
“Yeah,” he replied. “They were hesitant in even letting me go on this trip.”
“Well, cool,” said Charlie. “You’re welcome to hang out with us, especially when we get back home. We could use another person on the team.”
“That’s great,” said Mark. “I’d appreciate that. Oh, and I’m sorry if I was creepy on the bus.”
“Nah, forget it.”
“Well, I can understand. You don’t want to let outsiders in.”
“No,” said Charlie. “People get killed.”
“Anyway, we’ll go back home on Sunday night. Then it’ll be quiet in Portland.”
Charlie laughed. She didn’t want to break it to him that Portland was quite active for zombies.
“So, anything else we need to know? We didn’t really have a chance to chat with Chris,” she asked him.
“I don’t think so. His department will take care of the zombies. Then, they’ll do some rebuilding in the underground and ensure that the structure down there still supports what is above. The tour will eventually reopen.”
“Yeah, it’s handy that there was an earthquake.”
“Yes, that explains lots of things,” said Mark.
Charlie’s arm started aching. “Sorry, I need to use the bathroom,” she said.
“Great,” he replied. “See you on the bus later.”
Charlie wandered off to find the ladies’ room. In there, she cleaned the bite with soap and water, but it seemed to be getting a lot worse. The water in the taps wouldn’t adjust beyond warm, so she couldn’t aim hot or cold water from the annoying auto faucet tap that kept turning off on her.
She rubbed more ointment into it. The region surrounding the bite mark seemed to be turning purple.
“That’s odd,” she said. Sometimes when you get bitten by dogs or cats it can leave a bruise, but all she recalled was that the zombie had scraped his teeth against her arm. The small bite didn’t even break the skin.
She decided that if it didn’t get any better by dinner, she’d give Stewart a call.
zzz
They had one more day in the city, but Charlie didn’t care what they did on Sunday. She felt sick and hot.
“Hey, you OK?” asked Owen when they met up at the bus.
“I have some aspirin if you need it,” said Zan.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. Just wiped out this weekend. That was a long night.”
“After dinner, let’s meet in our room,” said Zan. “How’s it going with your roomie?”
“Dale is fine,” said Owen. “But we have nothing in common.” He laughed.
“See you later,” Charlie said to him.
zzz
Charlie made it through dinner, and then went back to her room. Once inside, she bolted for the b
athroom. She barfed up her entire dinner into the toilet. She flushed, then washed her face and brushed her teeth.
She headed back and rested on her bed.
When she heard knocking sounds, she got up to answer the door.
“Hey, what’s up?” asked Owen, walking in. “We knocked for five minutes.”
“Yeah, I forgot my room key. Hey, you sick?” asked Zan.
“Yes,” admitted Charlie. “I have a problem.” She went and sat down on the bed.
She rolled up her sleeve. “I think that’s a zombie bite.”
“Oh no,” said Zan.
“But wouldn’t she be immune?” asked Owen.
“I would think so. Our abilities should travel with us no matter where we go. Maybe Stewart knows more?”
Charlie shook her head. “He’s not certain.”
“Did you put ointment on it?” asked Zan.
Charlie nodded her head.
“We have to call Stewart,” said Zan, pulling out her phone.
“Oh my god, Charlie!” cried Owen, as Charlie fell back on the bed. “What do we do? Call 911? Would the hospital here even know what to do?”
“Let’s call Stewart first. Crap!” She struggled to turn on her phone, and then find the icon for the phone app.
“Hey, Charlie,” said Owen, leaning over her, gently tapping her cheeks. “Do you want some water?” He went to grab the glass from the nightstand.
“Darn it! Why doesn’t he answer?” Zan reached his voicemail, but she hung up.
“Hey, Charlie,” said Owen, gently pouring some water in her mouth. Some of it went in. He rubbed a bit over her forehead.
Just then Zan’s phone rang. She picked it up, looking concernedly at Charlie. “Yeah?” she answered. “Hi, Stewart. We need some help here. Oh wait, maybe we don’t.”
She watched as Owen closed his eyes and placed the palms of both his hands on her arm, covering the spot where she had been bitten. His hands glowed green. Then, his left hand glowed yellow, while his right hand glowed blue. The lights then dissipated.
When Owen pulled his hands away from her arm, the small bite mark was gone. Charlie woke up.
“Um, never mind, Stewart. We’ve worked out the situation.” Zan ended the call.
“Where am I?” asked Charlie.
“In Seattle,” said Owen. “You’ll be just fine.”
zzz
On the bus ride home to Portland on Sunday night, Charlie sat in the front of the bus, while the zlayers sat in the back.
“Are you serious?” whispered Mark. “She doesn’t know who you are or who she is?”
“Well, she knows her name and what school she goes to but nothing about zombies,” explained Zan, quietly.
“Gosh, I wish I could forget about the friggin’ zombies,” said Owen.
“We’ll have a meeting with Stewart and Gran and maybe they’ll have some insight,” said Zan.
“OK,” said Owen, keeping a watchful eye on his friend in the front seat.
“I was getting this close to asking her out on a date,” complained Mark, “now she doesn’t even know who I am!”
zzz
The three members of the team were seated in Gran’s living room, with Gran, and Stewart, mentor and teacher.
“Why are these people here?” asked Charlie.
“Because I invited them,” said Gran.
“What happened?” asked Zan. “Owen has a new superpower?”
“Yes,” said Stewart. “It appears that another of Owen’s powers has been brought forward by trauma, the power to heal.”
“I had no idea,” said Owen. “Maybe I should be a doctor?”
Zan smiled. “But anyone you treat will lose their memories? Is that normal?”
“Yes,” said Stewart. “I think that’s what happened. Something is given and something is taken in return. Much like using salt to perform a protection spell but a bit more ominous. Owen, if I were you, I’d exercise care in using this spell again.”
Owen looked crestfallen. “Yes, sir.”
“And if I had the spell book, I could look this up.”
“Right, which is why you’re really here,” said Gran.
“Do you need me? I don’t understand any of this nonsense.” Charlie got up and left the room.
“Is this reversible?” asked Zan. “And why did it happen?”
Stewart shrugged his shoulders. “My best guess is that these Seattle zombies are way more powerful than ones in the rest of the country. But, one thing I’m wondering is, why did you take the spell book?” he asked Gran.
She smiled. “For the exact reason you see before you. Eventually, Charlie will lose her life.”
“How can you know that?” asked Zan.
“Because, it happened to her mother.”
Stewart moved closer. “So, it’s true then. Being chosen runs in her bloodline.”
Gran nodded. “I’ve done my best to look the other way with her zombie slaying. After all, teens will just do the opposite when you nag them. Unfortunately, my ambivalence has had no effect on her. She just does what she wants. But now that she’s been bitten and recovered, albeit with lost memories, I do believe I can accept this brand new granddaughter that I have.” She paused.
“Here is your book back.” She tossed it to Stewart, who caught it. “I thought I might find answers in there, but it seems like I don’t need the book after all.”
“Thank you,” Stewart said to her. “I’d like to do some translations again and see if there are any mentions of truthsayer abilities that I’ve missed before.”
Owen grabbed the book from him. “Hey, cool. It’s in Latin!”
“Really?” said Zan. “I know some Latin, as part of me learning medical terminology. I can help you if you want.”
Stewart smiled.
“Say, one thing though,” said Owen. “How were you able to steal the book? I thought only an ayer could do it, zlayer or truthsayer.”
Gran laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Now get out of here before I lose my patience. I don’t want to see any of you ever again.”
It sounded like she wasn’t entirely serious, but they got up and left.
They each headed to their own respective vehicles, parked in the street.
“Hey, is Gran a zlayer?” asked Owen.
“Used to be, I believe,” said Stewart. “It’s rare to meet one her age who’s survived.”
zzz
Charlie had unsettling dreams. In them were zombies, like from a film. She was fighting them in her dream, but they kept on coming.
She suddenly woke up and opened her eyes. “What about the zleader?” She sat up. “What on earth is a zleader and why would I even care?” She got up and dressed.
Chapter 16
________________________________________
There were only two months of school left. Zombie-wise it was fairly quiet in the city of Portland. Unless there were other scientists interfering with nature, there should be no further trouble.
Instead of having a meeting after school with Stewart every day, they were having them once a week on Mondays, but Charlie wasn’t in attendance at any of them.
“So, any luck with having her remember either of you or who she is?” asked Stewart.
“Nope,” said Owen. “I’ve said ‘hi’ a few times and she says ‘hi’ back, but that’s about it.”
“That’s better than me.” Zan put her smartphone down. “She glares at me every time she sees me, like she doesn’t like me.”
Owen laughed. “So, same as when everything was normal?”
“Hey, not true! We like each other.”
“Relax, I’m just joking. Things have been too serious around here lately,” Owen replied. “Does she remember anything about zlayers at all?” added Owen.
“No,” said Zan. “Stewart, did you know about Mark?”
“Oh yes, I know about Mark,” admitted Stewart.
“And you didn’t think to tell us?” said Zan.
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“Relax. I only found out after your trip to Seattle. If people act normal, I wouldn’t know. It’s like a zleader, at least when they’re in the early stages of changing and don’t decay as quickly as the regular zombies do.”
“Say, I was wondering,” said Owen. “If there are still zombies in Seattle, that means there is a zleader still on the loose?”
Stewart nodded. “Without a doubt.” He paused, shuffling papers on his desk. “But it’s most likely that they’re still trapped deep in the underground, so it’s not as serious an issue as we think it is.”
“I think most of those aboveground zombie sightings were actually just the living in disguise for their convention,” added Zan.
“Exactly. And the police in Seattle are on top of it. It’s simply not safe to go underground, especially unescorted, as you two discovered. Plus, look what happened with Charlie.”
“Any info in the spell book?” asked Owen, grabbing his bag from his desk and packing it up.
“None.”
Zan sat on one of the chairs at the front of the classroom. “It seems odd that there is so little information available on the mystical powers of the chosen few.”
“It does seem like that, especially here in the U.S. My best guess is that books were brought over from Europe, but that someone destroyed them.”
Zan smiled. “Like the great big witch hunt in Salem.”
Stewart nodded. “Exactly.”
“Wait a minute,” said Owen. “If they were brought over from Europe, is there a chance that there are still books remaining over there?”
Stewart smiled. “There is, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. Which country, for one? Romania? Scotland? France? Italy? I don’t have any connections outside of here.”
“Where are there zombies?” pondered Owen.
“Right here in the U.S.,” commented Zan, and everyone laughed. “Oh, don’t forget, we’re supposed to help you decipher the spell book,” said Zan.