Zoe, Undead

by J. R. Knoll

  "Let's get some!" Dan shouted as he strode forward with the SAW. Holding the weapon at waist level, he aimed from there at the hoard that was less than a hundred yards away and loosed a barrage of his own, sweeping from one side to the other and back.

  "Quit wasting ammo!" Adrian shouted as he stepped in front of Zoe and aimed his own weapon.

  This fight lasted only a few minutes. A few of the zombies that were not in the main group continued to advance, only to be confronted by the Stryker and cut down, and others were seen by those near the door and dealt with.

  With the zombies no longer a threat, the Stryker and bus pulled up to the brick building and stopped about twenty feet from the jeeps, and both opened up to disgorge the men who had come to relieve those who had stayed overnight.

  Among them was Colonel Halstead, who came out of the Stryker puffing on a cigar and looking around him, and the first one he approached was Zoe.

  She just looked up at him with no discernible expression.

  He took the cigar from his mouth and nodded to her, then he informed, "Doctor Caswell wants you back at the hospital. We're taking you and your team home." His eyes shifted behind her.

  Morgan approached with her M-4 over her shoulder and stood beside the girl, looking up at the Colonel as she asked, "So, would you guys like a hand?"

  **

  Before entering the hospital, Colonel Halstead took the remaining stump of his cigar from his mouth and tossed it aside, his eyes on the door as he strode with purposeful steps. Zoe was beside and a little behind him and the San Antonio team walked behind them.

  As they got into the rally area, the Colonel looked over his shoulder and barked, "Corporal, I want to see you and Private Higgins in the conference room in thirty minutes."

  "Yes, Sir," the Corporal confirmed.

  Halstead stopped and looked down to Zoe, looking her up and down as he loudly said, "Private Princess, you stink. Go get showered and changed and get some chow. I'll see you in the conference room in an hour."

  "Yes, Sir," she complied.

  "We've had more people join us here," he informed, "so there's been another bed moved into your room. We haven't selected a roommate for you yet, thought you'd like to throw some input our way."

  She nodded, then looked around her, and her eyes fixed on the new zombie fighters. Looking back to the Colonel, she suggested, "How about Morgan?"

  His eyes shifted to Morgan, then he nodded. "Sounds fine. Get your gear and follow Princess."

  They watched him turn and stride toward the stairs.

  Morgan took Zoe's shoulder and leaned to her, asking, "Is he always so uptight?"

  Private Higgins patted Morgan's shoulder as she walked by and replied, "That's pretty mellow for him."

  **

  Zoe emerged from her bathroom with a towel wrapped around her as she violently dried her hair with another.

  Lying on the bed that was closest to the window, Morgan had kicked her boots off, removed her vest and hat and lay there with her hands folded behind her head, and she looked to the girl as she observed, "You were in there forever. Feel better?"

  Zoe took the towel from her head and looked to the floor with much of her hair dangling down into her face, and she shook her head. "No, I still feel icky. I had someone's brains all over me."

  "You had more than brains all over you," Morgan laughed. Sitting up, she watched the girl comb the wet locks from her face, and her eyes narrowed. "You're pale all over. Are you sure you weren't bitten by one of those things?"

  Crawling up on her bed, Zoe reported, "It wouldn't matter if I was. I'm already kind of a zombie."

  Morgan's eyes widened and her whole body tensed. Planting her hands beside her as she swung her feet over the side of her bed, she mumbled, "What?"

  Cross-legged on her bed, Zoe took her teddy bear from the pillow and set it down in her lap, gently stroking her fingers over the soft hair on its head as she mumbled, "It's kind of a long story. They came in and killed my family and one of them tried to get me."

  Half turning her head, Morgan confirmed, "And you were bitten." She seemed braced for flight, though her hand moved slowly toward the gun that lay on the night table between the beds.

  Zoe nodded. "Doctor Caswell thinks I didn't turn into a zombie all the way because I'm autistic. She said the germ that gets into your brain wasn't able to do something in mine and so I'm still just who I was, but it still made my body a zombie." She huffed a hard breath. "I wish I was still normal, but most of the zombies don't bother me anymore, so I guess it's okay."

  "And nobody around here is worried about you?" Morgan asked suspiciously, leaning a little more toward the gun.

  Zoe would not look at her and just continued to pet her bear. "Everybody seems to worry about me."

  "So," Morgan started hesitantly, "you don't try to eat people."

  "That's gross," Zoe countered. "I'd rather eat Spaghetti-O's and pizza and stuff."

  Hesitantly, Morgan nodded. "Um, do you mind if… You don't bite, do you?"

  "I bit my brother once," Zoe confirmed. "I think I was ten and he was just being a meanie."

  "So, you're an autistic zombie who only bites your brother." Morgan crooked her jaw and straightened on her bed, grasping the edges of the mattress with both hands. "Just when I thought the weirdness couldn't get any…"

  "Weirder?" Zoe finished for her.

  "Yeah, weirder." Morgan looked to the teddy bear and asked, "So, what's your bear's name? Oh, don't tell me. Teddy, right?"

  Zoe's eyes slid to her and she shook her head. "His name's Snowflake. Why would I call him Teddy?" When someone knocked on the door, she looked over her shoulder and bade, "Come in."

  "Um," Morgan stammered, "you're only wearing a towel."

  The door opened and Doctor Caswell peered in, then a relieved smile took her face and she entered and strode to the girl's bed, wrapping her arms around her as she declared, "I'm so glad you're home!"

  Zoe turned fully and slipped an arm around the Doctor's back, laying her head on her shoulder.

  Rachel looked to Morgan and bade, "Hi there. Welcome to our base of operations."

  "Thanks," Morgan offered. "Are you sure it shouldn't be the base of weirdness?"

  Zoe burst into giggles and looked over her shoulder.

  Doctor Caswell pulled away and took the zombie girl's shoulders. "Okay, Zoe. I need you in the lab real quick. We have something to do."

  "Colonel Halstead told me I have to go to the conference room and I only have twenty more minutes to get ready."

  "I already talked to him," the Doctor assured, "and he knows you're going to be a little late. Now get dressed and let's get to the lab. Have you eaten yet?" When the girl looked down and shook her head, she loosed a breath and conceded, "Okay, I'll get you something." Looking to the new arrival, she ordered, "You just make yourself at home. I think the rest of your team is already in the cafeteria, so if you're hungry you should go get something to eat."

  "No problem," Morgan assured. "Um, who should I go to with a whole lot of questions?" Her eyes flitted to Zoe.

  "We'll answer any questions you have." She also glanced at the zombie girl, and finally she raised her chin. "Just come and see me in the lab when Zoe and I are done and I should be able to put your mind at ease." She turned to leave and ordered, "Get dressed, Zoe, and let's get to the lab."

  As the door closed, Zoe carefully set her teddy bear back in its place on her pillow, then she slid from the bed and turned to the dresser that sat on the far wall, grumbling, "I don't want to do more tests."

  Morgan reached for her boots and glanced at the zombie girl as she assured, "It can't be worse than what we found you in the middle of this morning."

  **

  The laboratory was small and sterile and had only two chairs in it and an examination table. There were glass cabinets over the counter where Doctor Caswell worked and behind the doors one could see the many vials and bottles of chemicals, agents and supplies tha
t were needed for the research that was being done.

  Rachel was bent over the white counter top and looking into a microscope as a device beside her spun a small vial of black red blood to separate it into its main components. Zoe sat close by, holding a bandage over the crook of her elbow with her thumb and her arm curled in over it, and she had a sour look for the doctor she stared at. She wore Sergeant Morris' hat and had the brim pulled down so that her eyes were barely visible in the shadow past it.

  Withdrawing from the microscope, Doctor Caswell raised her brow as she looked to the girl and defended, "It wasn't a shot. I drew blood."

  "It's the same thing," Zoe snarled.

  "Did it hurt?" the Doctor asked.

  "No," the girl grudgingly admitted.

  "Then what are you complaining about?"

  Zoe just looked away from her.

  "Look, Zoe. The secrets in your blood could very well be the end of this virus and the zombie epidemic. Don't you want that?"

  "I guess," the girl grumbled.

  "I have a couple of things to do, and then I'll meet you in the conference room, okay? Why don't you go to the cafeteria and get something to eat?"

  "I need to go talk to Colonel Halstead first," Zoe informed as she stood. "He said he wanted to see me."

  "Just don't wait too long to eat," the doctor ordered. "You still need to take your medicine."

  "Yes, Doctor," Zoe sighed as she left the laboratory.

  The walk to the stairs seemed like a long one, though she barely noticed as she was hopelessly lost in thought. Such things had never bothered her before, being different and all. It was just something that always was and she never really noticed. Now, she was even more different, much more.

  Passing a group of civilians, four women and two men, who had sought safety in the hospital, she offered them a wave of her fingers, and in return she only got mistrusting looks, and quickly three of the women looked away from her as if they did not want to see her there at all. Further down the hallway a small group of children ran toward her, laughing and giggling with each other. They were five to seven years old, four of them, and when they saw her they stopped where they were and turned wide eyes to her. Zoe also stopped. She had always been more comfortable with children than grown-ups and she offered them a little smile and bade, "Hi." They backed up a few steps, staring at her in silence, then they turned and ran the other direction.

  Zoe's heart broke as she watched them disappear around the corner of the hallway. There were things she had to do, but they slipped from her mind. She finally made it to the stairwell, but she did not stop climbing until she got up onto the roof.

  Solitude was there. The make-shift shooting range was abandoned and only the hearing protection, targets and a few cans were still set up there.

  She wandered to the short wall that surrounded the roof and turned to sit down with her back against it. Pulling her legs to her, she wrapped her arms around them and just stared across the roof at nothing for a while. With a deep breath, she slowly took the cap from her head and held it in front of her, flattening her legs out in front of her. She read the tag inside the cap, W. Morris, and she read it over and over. It was all she had left of him. He was one of the first who did not treat her like a monster. He was very kind to her and she felt in her heart that she loved him, then he was gone.

  Tears welled up in her green eyes and her body quaked under the sobs inside of her that insisted on being known. Drawing her legs up to her again, she clutched the hat tightly in her hands and lowered her head to her knees.

  And she cried.

  There was no way to know how long she was up there, but she needed a good cry and wanted to be by herself. It could have been an hour or it could have been longer. She did not know, did not care. Little mattered to her but the pain of the moment, and it was all consuming.

  The door to the roof burst open and people emerged. Zoe finally raised her head to see the people she had just met file out of the stairway.

  Dan was first, and as he exited the door he immediately put a cigarette into his mouth and raised his other hand where a lighter was waiting to give it flame. Josh was right behind him, then Adrian, Morgan, Charlie, Matt, and Donny. Two of them, Josh and Adrian, were carrying an ice chest. The last to emerge was one she had not met, one who was still on the silver jeep during the heat of the battles. He was kind of a big fellow, clean shaven and with short hair, and he was the only one speaking.

  "I'm just saying," the last one assured as he joined them, "that it's not that out of line for you guys to help clean some of the brass out of the bottom of the jeep after a fight. I mean, come on! I work hard to keep that thing up!"

  Josh and Adrian dropped the ice chest, and Josh opened it and reached inside, taking a beer out as he observed, "Yeah, we're fighting zombie hoards every day and you want to make sure we keep the jeep clean. Eric, you're about as mental as they come."

  Eric also reached in and took a beer opening it before he countered, "We can take out zombies and look good doing it. And let's not forget who has to keep patching you dumbasses back together every time you do something stupid."

  Donny also opened a beer and shook his head, taking a drink before he grumbled, "It's like having my mother along." He looked to Eric and asked, "So, does your other half know you're up here drinking with us? Oh, that's right. She's not here."

  "She doesn't mind if I have a beer," Eric informed before taking a drink himself. "In fact, my gal's so awesome that she'll even get me one and open it." He looked to Morgan. "When was the last time you did that for someone?"

  Morgan took a sip of her own and replied, "Has Hell frozen over yet?" She looked to the wall, her eyes finding Zoe, and she raised her chin, greeting, "Hey! Didn't see you there."

  Zoe turned her eyes down and just nodded.

  Josh was the first to approach her, stopping a few feet away as he asked, "You want a beer?"

  "She's seventeen!" Morgan spat.

  Looking over his shoulder, Josh countered, "You know, under the circumstances of that whole zombie apocalypse thing, I'm sure the legal drinking age can be lowered for a while." He looked back to the girl and raised his brow. "Want one?"

  Zoe shook her head and politely declined, "No, thank you."

  He motioned behind him with his head. "So Morgan was telling us that you're about half zombie."

  Turning her eyes to the side, Zoe nodded again.

  Josh took a drink of his beer before he said, "And you're fighting for our side."

  Eric also approached, and he sat down beside her, nudging her shoulder with his arm. "Going to spend some time with the rest of us misfits?"

  She shrugged.

  Morgan sat down on her other side and took a slurp from her can, then she looked to the girl and observed, "Got you a new shirt. How many of those do you have?"

  "This one and two more," Zoe replied, looking down to the hat she still held.

  "We need to get you into an official ZRT shirt," Morgan insisted, "that way you don't get shot by mistake."

  "I already have been," the girl informed. "I've been shot six times now."

  The group got very quiet, and finally Eric asked, "So, how long did it take you to recover? I heard zombies can recover from body shots in an hour or two."

  "It was pretty fast," the girl replied, her eyes still low.

  "You know," Josh suggested, "If we were all like that then we wouldn't need a medic anymore."

  "Oh, sure!" Eric barked. "Then I wouldn't be as important!"

  Many of the group laughed, and Eric joined them.

  Zoe could see that this group was very close, that their friendship was very tightly knit, and she could not help but feel left out yet again.

  But, this day it was not to be allowed.

  Morgan nudged her again and informed, "Seriously, I have a couple of extra shirts, one a tank top, and I think you're about my size. Want to try one on? You've already got the hat."

  Quiet for a moment, Zo
e stared down at the cap and finally informed in a low voice, "This was Sergeant Morris' hat. The zombies got him yesterday."

  That silence gripped the group again and they all exchanged looks. All could tell that she was close to him, that she missed him, and now they seemed to be on a mission beyond killing zombies.

  Morgan slipped a hand around the girl's shoulders and pulled her close to her. "I'm sorry to hear about him, but, now you've got us to kick around with. Unless you start trying to eat people."

  A smile was forced from Zoe and she glanced at Morgan, assuring, "I won't. Promise."

  "That's good," Eric declared. "Eating people can be a real obstacle if you want to make friends."

  "Well," Josh started.

  "Don't!" Morgan ordered harshly.

  He held his palm to her and took another sip of his beer.

  A soldier came through the door to the roof and looked around him, his eyes finding the pink clad zombie girl, and he announced, "Colonel Halstead's looking for you, Princess. You need to get to the conference room."

  Zoe turned her eyes down and nodded, conceding in a slight voice, "Okay."

  **

  Colonel Halstead was sitting where he always did when Zoe entered the conference room, and he looked up from a report he was reading when she walked in. Seeing she was not alone, he looked behind her to Josh and Morgan, asking, "Did I call you two?"

  "Negative," Josh assured. "We're just tagging along with Zoe here, and we're hoping we can sign on with your fine organization."

  "Congratulations," the Colonel announced dryly. "You're in." His eyes found the girl again and he scolded, "You were supposed to be here almost an hour ago, young lady."

  Zoe's eyes were already fixed on the floor as she meekly offered, "I'm sorry, Sir." She took the cap from her head and held it with both hands as if she was holding something of great importance. Her steps were light as she made her way around the table to where the Colonel sat, and she gingerly laid the cap down in front of him, backing away after she had done so.

  Halstead picked it up and looked inside of it, reading the tag within, then he straightened it, curled the brim slightly and laid it back down near Zoe. "Hold onto that," he ordered. Leaning back in his chair, he folded his hands in his lap and eyed her with an authoritative look. "I was told that you stayed outside to fight the moaners by yourself. That true?"