Killer Z

by Miller, Greg L.

  “They had no right taking my pills,” Lin seethes.

  “Drugs are bad,” Fred says.

  “I don’t know how we’ll last without them,” Lin snaps.

  “The road to recovery is long but Jesus will help you.”

  “Damn, you’re ignorant,” Lin says.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re going to change into zombies. Game over.”

  Fred doesn’t know what say. Kyle, red eyed and feverish, tries standing but stumbles. Fred rushes to his son’s aid but Kyle weakly pushes him away.

  “Leave me the fuck alone.”

  “You feel chilled. When was the last time you ate something?”

  “I don’t know, yesterday maybe.”

  “Do you want me to find you a snack?”

  “No.”

  Kyle tries standing again but doesn’t have the strength and slumps back down.

  “Sit down and let me think,” Fred orders and steps a few feet away from the chair.

  “Dad, it’s not right their holding us like this.”

  “No Kyle, it’s not right. It’s also not right you stole the Hope diamond. What were you thinking?”

  “Stop preaching and get the fuck out of my face.”

  “Kyle...”

  “Get your hands off of me, old man! Help me!”

  “Calm down, son. I’m not touching you.”

  Kyle’s eyes roll upwards as he blindly stretches out his hands as if reaching for something. His entire body starts to tremble and shake. The others in the room back away.

  “Let me out!” Lin shrieks, terrified.

  “No chance in hell,” a guard yells from the hallway.

  “Kyle! Someone please help me!” Fred shouts.

  “What’s happening in there?” a second guard asks.

  “He’s changing!” Lin howls as Kyle’s body tumbles to the floor and becomes still.

  “You got what you deserve,” the first guard answers.

  Fred takes a caution step towards his son’s prone form when Kyle abruptly sits up with empty, filmy eyes. Spittle flecked with blood dribbles from his mouth. Steeling himself, Fred firmly presses the bible to his son’s forehead.

  “With the power of Jesus, I command you to leave my son!”

  Kyle bats the bible aside and grabs Fred by the throat with icy cold hands.

  “Kyle?” Fred squeaks as the breath is choked from him. He no longer sees his son in the cold, hungry eyes that bore into his.

  Lin hits Kyle over the head with a chair. The zombie’s head snaps back at an odd angle.

  “Kyle, snap out of it. It’s me, dad.”

  Fred stares in horror as his son still hungrily snaps at him with a broken neck.

  “Don’t stand there like a dumb ass,” Lin yells and strikes Kyle again.

  Kyle whirls and throws all his weight on Lin. The big man goes down as Kyle brutally rips into his unprotected stomach. Across the room another detainee’s body shudders to a stop on the conference room floor. The guards open the door. With in seconds the detainee groans and rises. It lunges for them.

  “I told you this was a bad idea,” a guard shrieks as he opens fire.

  It takes the shots in the chest and tackles one of the guards to the floor. More detainee’s start to turn as the remaining guard empties his clip into the one devouring his friend.

  Fred grabs the hammer from his tool belt. He stands there, uncertain if he should help Kyle, the guards, the detainees or if he should just run.

  “Lord Jesus, please forgive me.”

  As Kyle feeds Fred strikes him on the back of the head. The head of the hammer buries deep into his son’s skull and Kyle stiffens and collapses. As Lin starts to convulse, Fred dashes from the room.

  Within seconds zombies are stumbling after him. He dashes around a corner, finds a janitor’s closet and slams the door shut tight. He sighs in relief until the groaning bodies slam against the door. As they pound Fred covers his ears and cries.

  38

  Juliet runs a fingertip over the plastic cover of her dad’s identification card and then tucks it back in her pocket. She sits on a mat in the far corner of the conference room. Next to her Harry lays stretched out on his map, oblivious to the terrible odor coming from the hallway.

  “Harry, are you asleep?”

  Eyes closed, Harry grunts, “Yes.”

  She’s quiet a moment, then asks, “Do you think it was necessary for them to round up the druggies?”

  “I do” he says, rolling over to put his back to her. “They were going to turn into zombies and eat us.”

  “What are they doing with the prisoners?”

  “I don’t know. In Korea we had to execution them.”

  “How bad would one of those bites hurt?”

  “I don’t want to find out. Stop yapping so I can get napping.”

  “Sorry. I’m tired but just can’t sleep.”

  A figure pauses at the doorway of the dark conference room. His face is obscured in shadow. A chill ripples through her. Someone behind the figure runs in the hallway but the figure doesn’t move.

  “Can I help you with something?” Juliet asks.

  “I really need some sleep,” Harry mumbles but opens his eyes.

  The figure hastily turns around and disappears down the hallway. Harry sits up, suddenly alert.

  “The guy didn’t look right. Harry, do you hear running?”

  Screams erupt in the hallway outside followed by the popping of a gun and feet pounding in the hallway.

  “Juliet, get ready to run.”

  Harry hands Juliet the shotgun and checks the pistol at his waist. The figure reappears in the doorway. Juliet can make out his police officer’s uniform. A wound on his upper arm drips blood on the floor. She notes his gun is missing and brings up the shotgun as he breaks into a run straight for them.

  “Shoot it!” Harry barks like a drill sergeant.

  Boom.

  The blast of the shotgun slams her shoulder. The zombie stumbles back as the buckshot catches it in the Kevlar protected chest. She dumbly looks at it as it continues to advance forward.

  “Pump the shotgun,” Harry yells.

  She fumbles and finally fires again.

  Boom.

  The second blast shakes her like the first but this time she braces her legs. The zombie’s face becomes a red pulpy mass. A zombie wearing a Red Cross t-shirt leaps over the fallen cop. She pumps the shotgun but there are no more shells.

  Pop pop pop.

  Juliet jumps and drops the shotgun as bullets thud into the zombie’s face. Harry points to a bolted door labeled Emergency Exit and runs with Juliet following. The vet slides back the bolt and pulls open the door to a fire escape.

  “Ladies first.”

  “Is it safe to go out there?”

  “It’s not safe in here.”

  “I’m scared,” she says as they climb down the slippery steps, “I feel like shit for leaving everyone.”

  “There’s nothing we can do for them. I’m thinking we should try the sewers.”

  “Eww, nasty,” she says as they move through the filthy streets.

  Juliet pauses and scrapes mud off from the bottom of her shoes against a piece of concrete jutting from the sidewalk. Harry keeps walking, thinking she’s right behind him.

  “Ugh, these were my favorites,” she mutters.

  Her skin breaks out into goose bumps. A human hand sticks out of the mud from a nearby pile of debris. She starts to run to Harry but stops abruptly. A huge air craft carrier deposited by the tsunami looms over destroyed buildings in the middle Constitutional Avenue. Large white stenciled letters spell out USS GEORGE WASHINGTON.

  “Harry?”

  “Over here,” he says from near the carrier’s hull. “I think we can get around on this side.”

  Bloated corpses dot the mud along the carrier as if the seamen leaped from the craft. Hundreds of flies buzz around the dead bodies.

  “Harry, do you
see this?”

  The corpses stuck in the mud shift as the zombies react to their voices. Harry discharges the gun as a fast moving zombie rushes at him covered in muck. At Juliet’s feet chunks of wet mud slide from a zombie’s face and reveal a familiar face.

  “Dad?”

  Riley’s eyes are missing as if they’ve been pecked out by a bird. Shaking her head in disbelief she backpedals and slips in the mud. She freezes as he reaches for her.

  “Dad!”

  “Riley?” Harry stammers from ten feet away. Move zombies rise and Harry fires until the gun clicks empty.

  “Dad, no!” Juliet wails as she flails her arms in the mud. Riley grabs Juliet’s leg and inhumanly strong fingers dig into her flesh.

  “He isn’t your dad anymore!”

  “Harry, help me!”

  Riley’s teeth tear deeply into her leg and gnaw into the flesh. The hot tearing sensation is followed by a burst of pain as teeth sink into bone.

  “Juliet!” Harry screams as a mud covered zombie seizes his leg.

  A second pain explodes in Juliet’s left arm as a second zombie tears into her flesh.

  “NO!” Harry yells as he stomps on the zombie grabbing him.

  A sense of serenity fills the ravished girl. There’s no pain as she dies, only the sensation of tugging and pulling.

  “Over here,” a voice hisses.

  Harry sees a soldier covered in mud covertly waving at him from the Iwo Jima memorial. Harry scrambles up the base of the memorial and crouches down beside him. On the muddy street zombies slowly pull themselves from the muck.

  “Sorry about the girl. I’m Private Laramie,” the soldier whispers.

  “Harry. What’s your story Private?”

  “Not much to tell. I was on search and rescue and we went down. Been trying to get out of the city ever since. Was the girl your daughter?”

  “No.” Harry closes his eyes a moment. “I just knew her dad.”

  A knot lodges in his throat as he looks back and sees Juliet rise as a zombie.

  “I’ve been trying to get somewhere high to radio in for a pickup,” Laramie says.

  “The Old Post Office is intact, but there are zombies there.”

  “We’ll have to try it,” Laramie says.

  They creep through the devastated streets avoiding the undead. Multiple cracks from a high power gunman rings through the block as they near the Old Post Office.

  “Take cover,” Laramie hisses as they drop down behind a turned over truck.

  “Harry, is that you? Get your ass over here!” a gunman yells from a destroyed building.

  Harry recognizes Larry’s voice and rushes to the window. The cop lowers his rifle and allows them to enter.

  Harry whistles softly. “Damn, Larry, did you raid an armory?” He drops the empty pistol and picks up a Glock 9 mm sitting on the table.

  “Take what you want,” Larry grunts, then looks closely at Laramie.

  “You’re the marine from the hospital who left me to die!” Larry accuses, pointing his rifle at the soldier.

  “Hey man, be cool,” Laramie says. “We had no way of knowing that hospital was full of Zs. Our orders were to pick up survivors and drop them off, that’s it. You’re lucky we left you behind, some fuckers at the National Portrait Gallery fired on us and we went down.”

  “What happened to your buddies?” Larry asks and lowers the rifle.

  “Probably munching brains right now,” Laramie says grimly.

  Larry grunts, then turns back to the window and aims the rifle. “Well I’ve been watching the entrance to the Post Office, waiting for this bunch of piss ant gangster wannabes, but haven’t seen anything but zombies.”

  The cop takes aim and shoots a zombie entering the block. There are a lot of bullet ridden zombies. Laramie takes an AK-47 from a pile of weapons on the floor and takes position at the window.

  “What do we have here?” Larry asks.

  A group of armed men emerge from a side street. Two men being chased by zombies enters from another. They converge in front of the Old Post Office. The armed men open fire on the zombies.

  “That’s over nine armed hostiles and at least thirty zombies. I’m really getting tired of serving and protecting. What are the odds there are still people inside?” Larry asks.

  “The roof of that building is the only way to get a lift before the nukes come,” Laramie says.

  “Nukes?” Harry asks but is cut off as the three men watch the front doors of the post office burst open and survivors pour out over the steps. The armed men lift their guns at both the people fleeing and the zombies.

  “Well this is a cluster fuck. We need to help them,” Harry says.

  “It would be suicide. Let’s just get out of here,” Larry mutters.

  “I agree with Harry. We have high ground and superior fire power,” Laramie says.

  “Damn Samaritan hearts. You guys have a plan?” Larry asks.

  39

  Heart pounding, Fred is overcome with guilt for killing Kyle. He drops the hammer to the floor and slumps against the door. The darkness terrifies him but he’s comforted knowing the zombies can’t reach him. Minutes pass like hours. He hears someone on the other side of the door and catches his breath.

  “Is someone in here?” Mark whispers and knocks on the door.

  “C’mon Mark,” Angela says. “Why would someone be in a closet?”

  “The zombies might not have gotten everyone.”

  “Is somebody home?” Angela asks and knocks on the door.

  Fred picks up the hammer and answers, “I’m in here.”

  “What?” Angela asks.

  “I told you,” Mark says and opens the door.

  “Fred!” Mark says.

  “Hey,” Fred mutters and steps out of the closet, hammer in hand.

  “I thought you died when I found Kyle,” Mark says.

  “I wasn’t that lucky.”

  “We’re getting out of here,” Mark says. “We ditched the zombies on the sixth floor so it’s now or never.”

  Numbly, Fred nods.

  A half-eaten guard in the doorway leading to the prisoner’s room lifts itself to wobbly feet. Fred tears his gaze from the sight and follows Angela to the stairs as Mark impatiently holds the door open. The trio descends the stairs, carefully avoiding still corpses on the way.

  “Do you think anyone’s left alive?” Angela asks.

  “Becket’s pretty tough,” Mark says.

  “Do you have any weapons?” Fred asks.

  “I have my dad’s gun,” Mark answers.

  “Shit, quiet!” Mark curses low as they reach the last flight of stairs. In the lobby below, zombies feast on half dead victims with their backs to the trio.

  A man standing on a desk near the base of the stairs swings a broom at group of zombies. Their outstretched hands pull his feet out from under him and he tumbles to the floor. The undead descend on the screaming man and Mark stealthily leads them to the front doors. Only one door is free of chains. A zombie sprints towards them. Mark shoots it in the chest with a pop but it doesn’t do anything.

  “Stand back,” Fred says.

  Fred raises the hammer over his head and swings. He splits the zombie’s face in two. Bone and tissue splatter on the door. He swings again and this time exposes chunks of brain. The creature crumples to the floor and they flee outside.

  As he clears the door, Fred’s jaw drops. Seth and the remaining thugs are aiming guns at them. Two armed men usher them away from the entrance as a third shuts the door. Around the base of the steps are countless dead zombies and survivors. Among the murdered are Becket and Louie.

  “Drop your guns or die,” Seth says.

  “I should have stayed in the closet,” Fred mutters but doesn’t drops the hammer.

  Four women and three men kneel on the filthy cement, held at gun point. Mark drops his gun.

  “Putain de merde,” Seth says. “Where the hell is Lin?”

  “Your
partner is inside,” Fred says.

  M2 moves to collect the dropped gun as Seth rages, “Then where are my pills!”

  “We destroyed them,” Angela spits.

  Seth’s mad eyes roam over Angela. Her image blurs in front of him for a moment.

  “Are you the bitch from Burger Baron?” Seth asks.

  “What?” Angela asks.

  “What bitch are you talking about, Seth?” M2 asks.

  “You thought you could knee me, cunt? But who’s the man now?” Seth screams as he reaches out and grabs her by handful of hair.

  “Where’s the Killer Z?” M2 demands, and jabs Mark in the gut with the butt of his rifle.

  Seth drags Angela down the steps ignoring the thugs questioning looks.

  “Unhand the girl immediately or be shot down!” a voice calls out.

  Harry confidently strides towards the armed men. The gang forgets about Mark and Fred as they gape at the cocky vet. Harry stops in between two overturned vehicles.

  “I’m unarmed,” Harry says, “But there are snipers behind me and they will shoot you if you fail to comply.”

  “You’re the fucker who broke my arm!” Andrew shrieks.

  Crack.

  Andrew’s eyes widen in shock as his chest bursts open. The others stare, stunned and frozen.

  “Unhand the girl and let the others go!”

  One of the thugs lifts his rifle.

  Crack.

  “Now there are only seven of you left,” Harry says with a smile as the thug falls dead. “Let them go!”

  Seth ignores everybody except Angela. He uses her as a shield and backs into the shadowy recess of the second arch.

  “Seth, where are you going?” M2 asks.

  The others look at M2 for orders.

  The impersonator lifts his gun and shouts, “Kill them and find the Killer Z!”

  Crack crack, Larry shoots down two more thugs.

  Harry ducks behind a car as M2’s bullets fly at his head. He takes out the 9mm from his belt while M2 dodges behind the wrecked double-decker bus for cover. Gunfire fills the street as the remaining thugs open fire.

  Mark flings himself at a discarded gun. M2 and two brutes run to cars near Harry and flank him. Laramie emerges from behind a tilted tree and shoots his rifle into one of the three men pinning the vet. The other thug returns fire, catching Laramie in the chest.