Killer Z

by Miller, Greg L.

Seth blinks and abruptly turns to the painting and asks, “What’s happening down stairs?”

  “It’s the pills, Seth. The Zs are turning them into cannibals.”

  “You’re over reacting,” Seth says, then slurs. “Some stupid bitch kneed meee in the balls. I’ve been pissing blood.”

  “Um, ok. What’s your point?”

  “I want to find the cunt and teach her a lesson.”

  “She’s probably dead with the rest of the city. We have enough drugs and money. Let’s just leave.”

  “You’re a pest. I need to finish the painting.”

  Seth hums softly and applies red paint on Abraham Lincoln.

  “Where the hell did you get the paint?” Lin asks.

  “From volunteers,” Seth says and points to the far corner of the gallery.

  Lin gasps. Four dead bodies are piled on top of each other. Their throats have been slit.

  M2’s voice drifts upwards from the street, “Weeeeeeeeeeee’re home!”

  Seth puts down the brush and looks out the window. M2 stands on the street below with a dozen armed thugs carrying torches. They have bound prisoners.

  “They will be torn to pieces if they open the doors,” Lin says.

  “I found C4! Timers and all! Let me in,” M2 shouts.

  The doors burst open and bloodthirsty zombies rush out, leaping on the armed men and bound prisoners. M2 and others spill to the sides and open fire on the attackers. They fight their way inside the building as zombies flood into the night. Seth grabs his guns, ready to help his men. He doesn’t notice Lin pick up the backpack full of Killer Zs and sneak away.

  31

  Michael flinches as a bug crunches under his dress shoes. Everything is covered in foul smelling slime. He trips over an office chair and lands on a soaked sofa cushion. A fist sized cockroach crawls over the cell phone, undaunted by its light. A rat nibbles on a dead five foot swordfish. The rodent’s eyes glistens red as it eats the fish.

  “Ugh, it’s too dark to see,” Michael says and leaves the phone.

  “What happened?” Rebecca asks.

  “I tripped and broke my phone.”

  “Are you alright? My phone ran out of juice.”

  “I’m ok,” he says, standing.

  “I still have two bars,” Juliet says and walks to the couple. She takes Rebecca’s hand. “I’ll share my light.”

  “Ok,” Rebecca says.

  Michael miserably follows the women in silence.

  “Everyone stays together,” Fred says.

  Michael slips and grumbles, “I keep falling. We need to hole up for the night.”

  “What’s on your knee?” Juliet asks.

  Rebecca gasps and peels away what he assumes is paper.

  “Since when did you start growing Franklins and Benjamin’s, Michael?”

  “Holy shit, we’re rich!” Kyle yells.

  The street is full of currency and gold bars coming from the Federal Reserve. The building’s frame glows as iron struts and wall braces burn blue.

  “Is this real?” Fred asks and picks up a gold bar.

  “We’re rich!” Kyle crows and shovels wet money into his backpack.

  “Nice find, Michael!” Rebecca excitedly says.

  Harry stomps and puffs, “We can’t stay on the street. Think people, there’s a reason why the gold and money is sitting around.”

  “Harry is right,” Michael says and grabs Rebecca’s hand. “It’s too dangerous out here.”

  “You’re too paranoid,” Kyle hisses.

  “Shit, this gold is heavy,” Rebecca says.

  “We need to find shelter before the zombies find us,” Michael says.

  “This is our time to make it big!” Rebecca says.

  “Son, Rebecca, how about you both come back in the morning. Let’s try that building over there,” Fred suggests.

  “What if zombies are inside?” Juliet asks.

  “It’s too cold to stay out here,” Fred says.

  They enter the building cautiously. Pixel whines and draws their attention to gnawed upon corpses in the entrance. From within the building comes a chorus of groaning and moaning. Silent and fearful, they quickly retreat to the street. Several blocks away Fred stops in the midst of tsunami tossed cars and leans on a police cruiser.

  “There might be a blanket inside one of these cars,” Fred says.

  “Flashlights or a gun would be good. Let’s scavenge,” Harry suggests.

  Juliet slides open the door to a minivan and peeks inside. Michael and Rebecca try the doors of the police cruiser but it’s locked. Harry finds a crowbar in a station wagon. Kyle hoots as he bashes a rock into a window of a pickup truck. Fred searches a Mercedes and finds a heavy duty flashlight and a road flare. Pixel darts in between everyone and explores.

  “Guess we can try Kyle’s way,” Rebecca says and picks up a rock.

  “What are you doing?” Michael asks, alarmed.

  “Stop being a sissy.”

  The reinforced glass deflects the rock which bounces to her feet.

  “It must be Rebecca proof.”

  “Jerk,” Rebecca says and repeatedly slams the rock into the window.

  Pixel and Juliet wander over. Juliet holds her cell phone as Rebecca’s grunts. Rock and arm blur.

  “You’re going to hurt yourself,” Michael shouts.

  Rebecca groans and hits the window faster and harder. The others wander over. A crack becomes a small hole.

  “Honey, as your husband, I demand you stop!”

  Pixel barks. The window shatters with a crunch. Streaks of blood cover the rock and her hand.

  “Step aside,” Harry says and lifts the crow bar.

  “No, she’s my wife!”

  Fred shines the flashlight into Rebecca’s milky white eyes. She howls as if burned and cringes away. When she opens her eyes again they are normal brown and filled with confusion.

  “Rebecca!” Michael says and reaches out.

  “Don’t touch her, she’s a zombie!” Juliet shrieks.

  “Michael? What’s happening?” Rebecca asks.

  “Is she a zombie?” Kyle asks.

  “Not yet,” Harry mutters.

  “Why is this happening to me?” Rebecca cries.

  “Everything will be alright,” Michael lies.

  “Like hell. She’s a zombie!” Juliet says.

  “We need to remove the infected from the group,” Harry says.

  “Rebecca is my wife! What’s wrong with you?”

  Harry is determined but apologetic. Kyle grips a metal pipe and vibrates with an aura of sadistic glee. Juliet pulls at Pixel’s collar.

  “Fred, you’re a sensible man,” Michael says.

  “What?” Fred stammers.

  “You believe in Jesus, right? And you Harry, you’re not a murder!”

  “But she’s infected,” Harry says.

  “I’m not a zombie,” Rebecca yells.

  “Dad, zombies need to die.”

  “Let it go son.”

  “Rebecca’s clearly not a zombie. Get a grip people,” Juliet says.

  “Why are you talking about me like I’m not here?” Rebecca shouts.

  Everyone looks uncomfortably at the ground.

  “Let’s keep looking for supplies,” Fred says at length.

  Harry keeps a wary eye on Rebecca. Michael unlocks the police cruiser’s trunk and finds a small flashlight and body armor. He only takes the flashlight. The body armor is too heavy. Not once does he think of offering the armor to the others.

  “Fred fishes out a heavy leather police jacket from the back seat and a pack of cigarettes.

  Harry finds a shotgun with five shells.

  “Fred, take this shotgun,” Harry says and hands the gun over.

  “Um, ok,” Fred says.

  The others find blankets, bottled water and candy bars. They ignore Rebecca’s almost turn except for Pixel. The dog keeps her distance and growls.

  Kyle shines a newly acquired flashl
ight into the night and says, “I found a flare gun, how cool is that?”

  The popping of gun shots quiets the group.

  “I found notebooks and magazines in a car. In Korea, we used paper from magazines and candy wrappers to keep warm.”

  Harry tears out the pages.

  The others look at each other skeptically and Rebecca grumbles, “I’m not cold.”

  “Put them in your shirt like this,” Harry says to Michael, who complies despite feeling silly.

  “I’ve heard hunters do similar things to stay warm in the winter,” Fred says.

  “Oh gee, I got someone’s porn,” Juliet snips.

  Kyle accepts a notebook with a scowl.

  “Oh, it’s working,” Fred says.

  “The Old Post Office is over there,” Harry says.

  “I saw it too,” Michael adds. “Holy shit, I’m warming up. Thanks Harry!”

  “It took forever to get this far,” Kyle whines.

  “Oh, stop being a downer,” Juliet mumbles.

  “Then stop being a bitch,” Kyle snips.

  “We get there. We just need to stick together,” Harry says.

  “Like a band of heroes. Adventure alone, die alone,” Juliet sings.

  “Can we hide ourselves from the zombies?” Kyle asks.

  “Nope, it’s already been tried. A buddy of mine did that, Private Miller. The blood infected him.”

  “Lucky us,” Kyle grunts.

  “Stay focused on getting to the post office,” Fred says.

  A chorus of moaning and shrieks drift through the night. Rebecca and Fred chain smoke cigarettes. Pixel uses her superior senses and finds them a clear path.

  “I hear zombies but don’t see them,” Juliet says, voice trembling.

  “Are they feeding?” Rebecca asks.

  “This hell is never going to end, is it?” Michael whines.

  Fred directs his light beam at a green rectangular sign that reads Constitutional Avenue NW. A smaller blue sign, above the green sign, reads evacuation route. The fowl stench of scorched rubber fills the street.

  “Who made the fire?” Kyle asks as they stumble upon a pile of burning tires.

  The orange and red bonfire illuminates a fifteen feet circle. A dozen dead zombies have been bashed to pulp around the perimeter. One hangs from a light pole, still groaning.

  “Whoever did this is a sick freak,” Juliet mutters.

  Rebecca rushes to the fire. Near the burning tires a fishing ship towers over the vehicles. Bedrolls and a makeshift tent are spread around the blazing tires.

  “Smoke break!” Rebecca barks.

  Kyle climbs onto the fishing boat. Harry walks around the camp.

  “Whose camp is this?” Fred asks.

  “Don’t be so paranoid,” Rebecca snaps.

  “Yeah, it’s not like complete order is gone,” Juliet says. “Things will go back to normal in the morning. This is USA, home of the red, white and blue.”

  Michael unzips a tent and peaks inside. An attractive woman, naked and bruised, is bound inside. Her milky eyes twitch open and she groans. He pulls back, appalled.

  Kyle loads a cartridge into the flare gun and shoots it overhead.

  “What are you doing?” Harry yells.

  “I’m getting help!”

  The street brightens in a yellowish white hue and the landscape takes on clear and sharp detail. Groans rise from the vehicles around them as the zombies strapped in seatbelts become agitated.

  “You alerted every one of our location you stupid shit!” Harry fumes.

  “Screw you,” Kyle replies and jumps to the street.

  Michael follows Juliet and Pixel to a station wagon near the lopsided boat. A bloated body slumps over the dashboard. A woman, maybe the mother, holds a zombie child. The child lunges at the windshield.

  “God, she ate her own mother,” Michael chokes.

  Rapid gun fire pierces the night.

  Rebecca dashes to Michael and says, “We need to hide.”

  There’s muffled voices beyond the bonfire. Juliet slips into a car’s backseat and cringes away from the strapped zombie driver. Pixel stands in front of the married couple and barks.

  “Hold!” a man orders from the darkness.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Fred says.

  “Mack, where diddd the second girl gooo?” a thug asks.

  “Sammy, you’re hallucinating. Why are you in our camp?” Mack snips.

  Four thugs enter the light. Mack, still wearing the security guards outfit, carries an assault rifle. Two thugs wear heavy metal band shirts over faded jeans. One carries a hunter’s rifle and the other a handgun. The fourth armed man couldn’t be more than sixteen years old.

  Mack points an AK47 at Fred. “Be smart, don’t make this a homicide.”

  Fred drops the shotgun.

  “Seth’s offering two Zs for girls,” Mack says. “Doug, cuff her.”

  “I wanttt the brunette before Doug fucks her,” Sammy says and rubs his belly underneath the filthy Metallica shirt. He waves a rifle under Michael’s nose.

  “Don’t try anything cute brother,” Sammy says.

  “Shut up and take their guns,” Mack orders.

  Doug slings the rifle on his shoulder and walks to Rebecca with handcuffs. Pixel takes on a defensive posture. Heart pounding, Michael looks for a way to escape.

  “Shut that dog up,” Mack says.

  Pop. A bullet ricochets off the cement and strikes the canine’s leg. Pixel yips in pain and limps off.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Fred says.

  “Where’s the other girl?” Sammy questions Michael.

  Michael remembers the zombie in the tent and says, “What other girl?”

  Sammy jambs the gun at Michael’s temple as Doug grabs Rebecca.

  “You’re not touching her,” Michael says.

  “What are you going to do about it?” Sammy asks.

  Rebecca’s too terrified to fight as Doug shoves her against the car. His dirty hands disappear into her blouse and tears at her bra.

  “She’s into Victoria’s Secret boys!”

  Doug slobbers into Rebecca’s ear. Michael clutches his fists when everything goes bright as Kyle fire the flare gun into Sammy’s chest. The thug stumbles into the burning tires as the flare sends out white and orange sparks.

  Michael shuts his eyes as the flare blossoms and then reopens them. Mack stares at the light with a drugged expression of disbelief. Sammy howls in pain turning this way and that in the fire. Doug blindly lets go of Rebecca and reaches for his handgun. Pixel emerges from underneath a car and sinks her teeth into Doug’s tattooed wrist and he drops the gun. Sammy carelessly swings the hunting rifle as he thrashes in the fire and shoots the youngest thug in the back with a crack.

  Mack blindly shoots the Ak47. Tat tat tat tat.

  Pixel and Doug are showered with bullets. The dog yelps and runs. Harry swings the crowbar at Mack which caves in the man’s head. The group looks at each in stunned silence as the fallen thugs begin to shudder.

  “Oh Jesus and Virgin Mary,” Fred gasps as Sammy lurches to his feet.

  The fire illuminates Sammy the zombie in a soft yellowish hue. Michael gapes, not wanting to believe the threat isn’t over.

  “Game over,” Juliet yells from the car.

  “Now that’s a zombie!” Rebecca shrills at Sammy.

  The smoldering Sammy jumps on the car Juliet is hiding in and smashes both fists into the window. Doug and the young thug both rise to their feet.

  “Here boy,” Fred yells at Sammy and picks up the shotgun. “Come to daddy.”

  Swoosh swoosh swoosh, the vet pounds at Doug with the crowbar until the thug falls back to the ground. The sixteen year old zombie groans and charges at Rebecca.

  Fred whirls, dodges Sammy’s advance, and shoves the barrel of the shotgun into the zombie’s back. Boom. Sammy no longer has a spine.

  Fred opens the car door. Boom.

  Juliet gasps
as the driver’s head becomes a bloody smear.

  “I’m fed up with zombies,” Fred says.

  Michael wrestles with the sixteen year old on the wet cement. Harry hurries over and slams the crowbar into the back of the zombie’s head. Mack lifts his body from the street and flings himself at Kyle.

  Kyle dodges the zombie and picks up the discarded AK47. Tat tat tat’s and the gun clicks empty. Mack staggers and groans, half his face is missing. Kyle picks up the pistol. The small handgun makes a soft pop and the zombie is no more.

  “Take their guns,” Harry says.

  Only the rifle and .22 have bullets. There are enough flashlights for everyone.

  “I’m keeping the pistol,” Kyle says.

  Michael comforts Rebecca who clutches the shredded remains of a torn blouse.

  “It’s time to go,” Harry says.

  32

  Mark focuses the lenses of the binoculars on the red tourist bus on the steps of the Old Post Office.

  “There’s movement in the bus,” Mark says.

  “Shit, my binoculars keep blurring,” Angela says.

  “It’s called double vision. Let me see them again.”

  Mark adjusts the optics of her binoculars. “Try this.”

  “Oh, that’s better.”

  Mark zooms to another location.

  “Five groups of zombies on Independence Avenue. Where’s the search and rescue crew Becket wanted us to watch for?” Angela asks.

  “I don’t know.”

  “There’s no one left but looters and the undead,” Angela says, lowering the binoculars. “I want to thank you again for rescuing me and letting me come to the roof.”

  “No problem. I swear the earth is sinking. You notice how the remaining buildings angle to the left? DC was originally built over a canal system.”

  “Mark, recheck the west lawn of the White House.”

  On the lawn looters drop paintings and silverware as a mob of zombies in security uniforms catch them by surprise. The pops of the gunshots reach the roof as the looters try to defend themselves and are quickly overtaken. Within minutes the looters rise and join the horde.

  “Angela, have you ever seen anything like it?”

  “No I haven’t. Should we report downstairs?”

  “Not yet. Check out the Lincoln Memorial.”

  A military hovercraft swerves to the roof of the submerged Lincoln Memorial and stops. Suddenly soldiers are yanked into the water. A few escape to the rooftop.