“Jesus wants me to do this.”
Juliet blinks in confusion. Natalie bends over the squalling baby with the syringe. Pixel bristles and barks.
“What does Jesus have to do with the babies?”
“I need to do the will of Jesus,” Natalie replies in madness.
A sickening feeling fills Juliet’s gut. The babies are too peaceful.
“Are they dead?”
“I did what had to be done.”
Juliet releases Pixel’s collar. The police canine launches at Natalie and sinks her razor sharp teeth into the mad nurse’s wrist a second time. The syringe clatters to the floor.
“Monster!” Juliet yells and picks up the baby from the crib.
“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Natalie shrieks.
“You’re sick!”
Harry is still in the nurse’s station as she rushes around the corner with Pixel on her heels. She tells him about the crazy nurse.
Harry reads the baby’s identification bracelet out loud, “Anthony John Smith: D.O.B 08/05/16. Honey, I have something bad to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“You have to be strong, ok?”
Harry holds out a medical chart and says, “Your dad was infected.”
Juliet’s lower lip trembles.
“I found a bucket filled with hospital ids of the deceased. I saw the same in war but our bucket was filled with dog tags. Then I found his medical chart. I’m sorry.”
“No,” she cries pitifully. “No, no, no, no…”
Harry leads her back to the roof. Another helicopter arrives and blasts wind in their faces. The soldiers round up the next group of woman and children to evaluate.
“We need to get baby Smith on the chopper,” Harry says.
Juliet numbly hands the baby to a waiting soldier but refuses to board the helicopter herself. The commotion spreads on the roof grows louder. Harry turns to see the harbor swell into one gigantic wave, much larger than the others.
27
Michael watches Fred wander around asking everyone if they’ve seen his missing grandson.
“Why didn’t they let us on the helicopter, Michael?” Rebecca asks.
“I don’t know.”
“But you’re with Congress! We’re supposed to be on that helicopter!”
“I guess that’s not really important anymore.”
“The tsunami’s coming! We’re going to die!” someone yells.
Many rush to the roof’s center while others flee back inside. Elbows and fists start flying as the people around them desperately want to survive.
“Rebecca, stay close.”
“Is this the tsunami, Michael?”
“Yeah, this is it.”
“Are they going coming back for us?”
“I don’t know,” he says, then adds truthfully. “I doubt it.”
“The National Mall is taking the brunt of the tsunami!” someone yells and a feeling of hope blossoms.
“Lord, please protect us!” Fred cries out.
“Hold on,” a man screams from the outer edge of the crowd.
The hope dwindles as the building shakes. Everyone freezes in place, their expressions terrified. The air is full of tension as the temperature drops and a white fog engulfs the building. A deafening roar swallows all voices. The biggest wave he’s ever seen swamps the National Mall. The solid wall of dark blue devours the remaining buildings in between the hospital and the coast. The overcast sky turns greenish.
The wave diverts along Constitution Avenue and heads east carrying an aircraft carrier. His lungs ache from the sudden cold and his legs and arms bristle with goose bumps. Rebecca exhales puffy wisps of breath. The deafening roar subsides.
A cheer lifts from the crowd.
“Rebecca, the worst is over!”
Michael holds her tight. They walk to the edge of the roof. The harbor wave dwindles in the east, leaving only the Old Post Office, the National Portrait Gallery and a few other buildings. Ruined buildings poke out of the calming sea and water levels drop. No new waves appear on the horizon.
The happy cheer is interrupted as a blood curdling scream carries across the roof. A crazed man in a business suit launches himself at a teenager. The zombie buries its mouth into the struggling kid’s neck and ruthlessly tears out his jugular.
“Stand down or I will shoot,” a police woman yells.
The creature ignores the cop and mauls the boy’s neck. She shoots the zombie in the chest with a pop. It drops the kid and rushes at her as she empties the gun.
28
Larry slinks into the hospital. He stumbles blindly through the hallways filled with self-loathing.
“All I do is help everyone and all they do is shit on me. Just like those fucking marines. Why not have a drink if I’m about to die?”
Larry tips back a small booze bottle but abruptly stops as he hears a noise. He wonders if it’s a zombie.
“Is someone there?” a low feminine voice asks.
A tall, willowy woman in pink scrubs stands at a supply cart. Her dark hair is pulled back into a bun. Tendrils escape at her temples giving her a fragile appearance. Deep brown eyes take in his uniform, gun and disheveled appearance.
“Are you on duty?” she asks.
Larry considers saying no. Her name tag reads- RN Natalie Vaughn.
“I suppose so. Officer Larry Anderson.”
“Can you help me, I’m hurt.”
“What happened? Did a zombie bite you?”
“No, a dog bit me.”
“Was it a police canine?”
“A black girl called the dog Pickle.”
“Pixel and Juliet?”
“Is she your dog? The bitch did this to me,” Natalie says and holds out her arm.
He wonders why Pixel bit her. “We’ll put her down when this mess is over.”
“Good,” Natalie says and flashes a beautiful smile.
“At least it’s a shallow bite.”
“Can you clean me up?” she asks and points to a cart full of supplies.
Larry locates antibiotic wash and bandages.
“Sure. If the soldiers see the bite they might shoot you.”
“Why’s that?”
“Zombies, I reckon.”
“You’ve got that wrong. They’re demons.”
“It doesn’t matter what they are. A bite equates to death. You’re as good as new.”
“Thanks.”
Natalie places her small hand on his forearm and gives a squeeze. His cheeks redden.
“Were you trying to find a way to the ground floor?”
“No, the city is flooded,” Larry says. “You should come with me to the roof.”
“Jesus saved us. You can see the street if you look out the window.”
Larry goes to the window to see for himself. Piles of destroyed vehicles and boats lay tossed around the parking lot but most of the water is gone.
“Whoa. There’s only a few feet of water left. What a mess.”
“See, I told you.”
“The Old Post Office withstood the assault. Oh hey, I see a police station and a church.”
Natalie tugs at his sleeve and asks, “Please take me with you.”
“Ok, but if the lower floors are flooded we can go to the roof.”
“Thank you!” Natalie says and presses her body close.
“No problem. I’m here to protect and serve, after all.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“We need to find a stairway.”
“This way,” Natalie says and directs them to the stairwell. “I don’t want to be in here when they wake up. The demons sleep during the day and wake at night. Some don’t sleep at all.”
“You mean the infected?”
“Hush and listen, the demons are waking.”
Natalie wraps her hand around his arm and stops on the stairs. She opens the emergency door leading to the second level hallway. Flickering emergency lights
illuminate turned over carts, gurneys and medical equipment.
Natalie steps into the hallway but keeps the door propped open. Everything is soaked and stinks of salt water. Echoes of thudding and flopping can be heard. Larry turns on his flashlight and walks into the hallway.
“Are you coming, Natalie?”
“No.”
“Stop acting crazy.”
“I’m not crazy,” she answers and shouts from the doorway. “Hey, wake up demons!”
The thudding of feet mixes with groaning. Patients burst from rooms in bloodied and tattered gowns. Their milky white eyes squint away from the flashlight. They shield their eyes and run towards him.
“Hurry before they get us,” Natalie says.
“Shit,” he stammers and reaches for the gun.
“They don’t die unless hit in the head.”
There are too many to shoot. Larry backpedals to the door and slams it shut. The zombies groan.
“Holy shit,” he says as the Zs slam into the door.
Fists pummel the sturdy steel, followed by scratching and moaning. Larry and Natalie retreat down the stairs. On the ground floor they enter cold water. It laps at their thighs as they trudge to the front entrance.
“What if the zombies, err demons, are hiding in the water?” he asks.
“Jesus will guide us. We’re almost there.”
Larry sloshes through the water, fearing a zombie will pop out at any minute He holds his gun and flashlight straight and keeps his eyes on the front doors. The entrance of the hospital hangs open, the doors battered and broken from the tsunami. They exit the building and enter a twilight lit wasteland of destruction.
29
Night engulfs the George Washington hospital. Fred pats his shirt but remembers he’s out of cigarettes. Kyle holds his head as if having a migraine.
“I’m out of cigarettes,” Fred grumbles.
“Today is just as good as any other day to stop smoking Dad.”
“Some compassion would be nice. It’s wickedly cold out here. Here, take my flannel, your ice cold.”
Across the roof flashlights and cell phones provide dim illumination.
“I don’t want it.”
Fred shrugs and turns to Rebecca.
“Pardon me ma’am, can I have one of your cigarettes?”
“Sure.”
“Was that a zombie that attacked the kid?” Fred asks and inhales the tobacco deeply.
“Yeah,” Michael says.
“What do we know about zombies?” Fred asks.
“Only what’s on TV,” Rebecca says.
“And what’s that?”
“They like eating human flesh.”
“They need to be shot in the head,” Juliet says.
“In Korea they needed to be burned, hated light, and couldn’t stand high pitched noises,” Harry says.
“In the original Night of the Living Dead they hate fire," Michael adds.
“They’re stupid as fuck but are strong,” Kyle snorts.
“Don’t forget highly contagious,” Michael says.
“How do they spread?” Kyle asks.
“What if they’re not zombies, but demons?” Fred asks, but the others don’t listen.
“You get infected if bit or take certain drugs,” Harry says.
“This happened in Korea?” Fred asks.
“I’ve seen this before. Shit, it’s dark. We can’t stay on the roof. They get more active when the sun goes down.”
“The helicopters will come back, right?” Rebecca asks.
“They aren’t coming back for us. No one gives a damn about us. I’m walking out of damned city,” Kyle says.
“We have to wait for dawn. The Zs are going to be looking for us,” Harry says.
“The Zs?” Fred asks.
“That’s Harry’s nifty name for the zombies,” Juliet says.
“In Korea we were ordered to poison local water supplies in Northern Korea with a drug nicknamed Compound Z.”
“Do people who take Killer Z become zombies?” Kyle asks and Rebecca pales.
“Affirmative,” Harry says.
“Thankfully the two cops will protect us. I can’t believe Larry didn’t stick around,” Michael grumbles.
Vinnie smokes a joint and says, “I’m going to turn into a zombie for smoking the Zs?”
“Sorry kid, your screwed. We’re sitting ducks on this roof,” Harry insists.
Purple and white lighting rips across the murky night sky. Shivering, Fred stomps in place to keep warm.
“Are you coming home?” Fred asks Kyle.
“Dad, I don’t know. You think we’re going to survive this shit?”
“Son, God will protect us.”
Colin walks over and says, “They’ve evacuated the children to some hotel in Greenbrier, Virginia. You could follow the train tracks out of the city or jack a vehicle in the morning.”
“Or we could smoke more pot until the inevitable happens,” Vinnie says.
“Is there any other way out of the city?” Fred asks.
Colin shrugs, “Not that I know of.”
Nearby Juliet sobs softly to Harry, “I can’t believe that crazy nurse killed the babies”
“But you saved one,” Harry says as he attempts to comfort her.
“Do you really think my dad is a zombie?”
Harry pats her shoulder and says, “I hope not.”
“Excuse me? Did you save a baby?” Fred asks.
“Yeah,” Juliet answers, sniffling.
“I’m looking for a baby boy, Anthony Smith.”
“Are you the dad?”
“No, I’m the grandpa. Did you see my grandson?”
“Yeah, we put him on the last chopper.”
“Anthony is alive! Thank you so much,” Fred says and impulsively hugs Juliet and Harry.
Pixel barks ferociously and the crowd quiets.
“What’s wrong, Pixel?” Juliet asks, alarmed.
The K9 faces the stairwell. Moaning comes from within the hospital. Pixel bares her teeth as her ears slant. The police officers take out their handguns and look at the door.
“Please Jesus, don’t let it be the zombies,” Fred says.
The door bursts open. Crazed, gore covered patients flood the roof with an inhumane symphony of moaning and groaning. The crowd shoves each other in terror. Many try fleeing to the opposite side of the roof.
“Where did they come from?” an officer screams.
“There’s too many!” the other yells.
Pixel’s tail lowers between her legs. The creatures rush the officers with agile speed.
“Shoot them already!” Kyle screams.
Fred jumps as the guns pop. Bullets smack into the zombies but do little damage.
“Shoot them in the head!” Juliet screams.
The cops take down three zombies and run out of ammunition. The officers are tackled and disappear in a mass of limbs. A male zombie with multiple bullet holes in its chest leaps on a young lady near Fred. The monstrosity moans in ecstasy as it pins the struggling woman to the roof.
“We can’t stay,” Harry yells and pushes away a zombie.
“Go for the stairwell on the other side,” Fred shouts.
Screams of terror turn to pain and agony. The sound of suckling and tearing flesh fills the rooftop. Many jump off of the roof preferring a quick death.
“Look out,” Fred yells to Vinnie.
The stoner is yanked from his feet and a zombie digs into his soft belly. People and zombies run in all directions. Fred pushes Kyle towards the stairs. Pixel darts ahead and enters the stairwell first. Rebecca, Michael and Juliet follow with Harry slamming the door. They stumble down a dark stairs. Rebecca trips over Karen and slams hard into the cement wall.
“Come on, baby,” Michael says.
“I slipped.”
“Shhh, the Zs might hear us,” Harry whispers.
Everything below the second floor landing is wet and slick. They reach the lobby an
d plunge into thigh deep water. Corpses bob up and down around them.
“I can’t walk in that!” Juliet says.
“Think of them as logs,” Harry mutters.
Fred ignores the corpses and sloshes through the lobby with Kyle.
“I don’t want to do this,” Rebecca says.
“Honey, it will be ok,” Michael reassures her.
“Stop acting like scared little girls,” Kyle mocks from the entrance.
“Ewe, this is so nasty. Michael, you owe me a spa.”
“Rebecca, screw owing you one, I’m going with.”
“It’s only dirty water,” Fred calls out.
They slosh through the water, pushing away computer monitors, couches and chairs as they go. Scared, they leave the hospital and exit into the city.
30
The paint leaves a red smear on the wall as Seth repeatedly loses his focus. An occasional groan comes from his mouth, not sounding like him at all. His eyes water profusely and the painting no longer makes sense.
“What am I doing?” Seth asks George Washington.
Seth doesn’t remember painting on the canvas. Cool night air enters through a broken window. Not one street light works. The gallery is illuminated by looted camping lanterns.
Lin rushes into the dim gallery. “They’re tearing each other apart in the Civil War gallery.”
“Who’s tearing each other apart?” Seth asks.
“The recruits are changing into zombies, Seth. We need to leave.”
“How many of the dogs are left?”
“Ten or fifteen are downstairs fighting for their lives. M2 should have been back from the scavenging mission, but he’s missing in action, so is Mack.”
“Maybe the tsunami killed them.”
“We’re barely containing the freaks but they’re relentless.”
“Whatever man, that’s not my problem,” Seth says and applies a stroke of scarlet to the portrait. “Being an artist is all about what mistakes to keep.”
“Why are you drawing zombies when the real deal is down stairs?”
A cruel smile comes to Seth’s lips. “I’m seeing myself bash your skull in.”
“What?” Lin asks, terrified. “Don’t play like that man.”
Killer Z Page 10