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Z Page 5

by Michael Thomas Ford


  Josh nodded. “Right,” he said. “She did.”

  Clatter smiled, his mouth forming a thin line across his face. “Well, you might say that I am the … master of ceremonies … for these games. I seek out the most talented players and bring them here.” He swept his hand around the graveyard of ships. “To the arena.”

  But what do you get out of it? Josh wondered.

  “I enjoy watching players who are good at what they do,” said Clatter, seemingly reading Josh’s thoughts. “It’s a beautiful thing, almost like a … ballet,” he concluded. “It gives me pleasure.”

  Josh looked at Charlie. She gave him a quick nod, as if to say everything was okay.

  “So how does this work?” he asked.

  “You’re eager,” Clatter said. “I like that. You’re going to play in a game with the rest of the team. After I’ve observed you in action, I’ll decide whether or not you’re a good fit. If you are, you’ll be asked to join.”

  “And if you don’t think I am?” Josh asked.

  Clatter smiled again. “Let’s hope that won’t be the case,” he said.

  Josh nodded. “Okay,” he said. “When do we play?”

  Clatter snapped his fingers, and half a dozen figures materialized from out of the ships. “As I always say, there’s no time like the present.”

  6

  The group of figures approached, their faces becoming clearer as they stepped into the light. There were four boys and two girls, all of them around Josh’s age. They were dressed in black Torcher uniforms, and they each carried a flamethrower. They flanked Clatter, three on a side, and looked at Josh with unreadable expressions on their faces. Suddenly he was nervous.

  “This is my team,” Clatter said. He pointed to the first Torcher, a tall, muscular boy with dark brown skin and a thick, pinkish scar running diagonally across the bridge of his nose and down past his lip. “This is Scrawl, the team captain. He’s been with me the longest.”

  Josh nodded at Scrawl, who fixed his dark eyes on Josh and didn’t blink. Clatter continued with the introductions. “Then we have Seamus and Finnegan,” he said, indicating a short boy with pale skin and black hair and a tall boy with equally pale skin but red hair. “Believe it or not, they’re twins.”

  “Hey,” the two boys said in unison, nodding.

  “Our last man is Stash,” said Clatter. A heavy boy with thick arms, thick legs, and a thick neck looked back at Josh. His fat cheeks were tinged bright pink, and his blond hair was shaved into a crew cut. As Josh watched, he took a handful of nuts out of his pocket, cracked the shell from one, and popped the nut into his mouth. He dropped the shell on the ground.

  Pistachio, Josh thought, looking at it. Stash. Very funny.

  He wanted to laugh, but he knew that would be a mistake. Whatever was happening, everyone was taking it very seriously. He flashed a smile at Stash, who nodded curtly.

  “And then we have the ladies,” said Clatter. “Allow me to introduce Freya and Black-Eyed Susan.”

  It was easy to tell which girl was which. One was slight, with long blond hair and bright blue eyes; the other was a beautiful Latina with dark hair and eyes. “Call me Bess,” she said. “It takes less time.”

  “And of course you know Charlie,” Clatter concluded. “Now let’s get you geared up and get this game going.” He clapped his hands together, which seemed to break the spell holding everyone in position.

  Scrawl came over to Josh. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you the locker room.” He turned back to the others. “The rest of you, go through the hit-and-run drill we practiced last week. I don’t want any screwups this game.”

  Charlie smiled and waved at Josh. “See you soon,” she said.

  Scrawl walked through the ship graveyard with Josh beside him. Josh wanted to ask all kinds of questions, but he also wanted to look cool and collected, so he said nothing. To his relief, Scrawl did enough talking for both of them.

  “So you’re Charlie’s friend,” he said. “I hear you’ve got a good game going. Well, we’ve got the best gamers around on this team. You want to play with us, you’ve got to be ready. This isn’t some weak-ass holographic game. This is the real thing.”

  They walked down a short corridor that ended at a wall. There were doors on both sides of the hall. “That’s the girls’ locker room,” Scrawl said, indicating the left-hand door. “And this is ours.”

  He opened the door into a large room tiled all in white. Rows of lockers lined one wall, and there were long wooden benches bolted to the floor in front of them. On the other side of the room were four bathroom stalls, and through an archway Josh saw what appeared to be a communal shower area.

  “I’ll skip the guided tour,” said Scrawl. “Your locker’s over here.”

  He strode to one of the lockers and opened it. Inside a black uniform was hanging, a pair of black boots on the floor beneath it. “Put those on,” Scrawl said, nodding at the contents of the locker.

  Josh peeled off his T-shirt and hung it in the locker. Scrawl glanced at it. “You into comics?” he asked, nodding at the Batman logo on the shirt.

  “Yeah,” Josh said. “Are you?”

  “Big-time,” Scrawl answered. “Mostly the classic stuff. You ever been to the Pageteria?”

  “The paper museum?” said Josh. “No.

  Scrawl nodded. “My house is about a block away,” he said. “It’s great. They have actual newspapers, magazines, anything printed on paper from before Cybooks made them obsolete. They have a great exhibit of comic-book art up right now. You should check it out.”

  “That sounds cool,” Josh said as he removed his shoes, shucked off his pants, and stepped into the one-piece uniform.

  “This uniform may not look fancy,” Scrawl said as Josh zipped himself up. “But built into the fabric are touch-sensitive threads. They send readings to a monitor back at base. Not only can the monitor read your heartbeat and body temperature, it can tell the difference between me just touching you and you falling down and you getting bit by a z.”

  Josh rubbed his hands over the uniform’s material. The technology Scrawl was describing wasn’t new, but he’d never heard of it being used in gaming before. “This is the stuff they make army uniforms out of,” he said, impressed.

  Scrawl grinned. “Clatter has some major contacts,” he said. “Now get your boots on. We’ve got a game to play.”

  As they walked back to rejoin the others, Josh asked Scrawl the question he’d wanted to ask since Charlie had told him the game was real. “So if we’re Torchers, who plays the zombies?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Scrawl answered. “Just worry about killing them.”

  “Well, look at you,” Clatter said when Josh and Scrawl arrived. “You already look like one of the gang. All you need is this.”

  Clatter handed Josh a flamethrower. “You know how to use it, right?”

  Josh examined the weapon. “No problem,” he said.

  “Try it out,” said Clatter. “Pretend Seamus is a z. Take him out.”

  Josh hesitated.

  “Just do it,” Seamus told him.

  Josh aimed the flamethrower at Seamus and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, but a second later a buzzer sounded and a robotic woman’s voice announced, “Torcher Seamus has been killed. I repeat, Torcher Seamus has been killed.”

  “But how—” Josh said.

  “The thrower emits an electronic beam,” Freya interrupted him. “If it hits you, it activates the sensors in your suit. As far as the monitor is concerned, you just fried Seamus.”

  Clatter laughed. “Not to worry,” he told Josh, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go to the monitoring room and reset it. In the meantime, you all get ready to play.” He turned to Scrawl. “Play will take place in sections one through four. There are three z’s. Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ten minutes, then.” Clatter looked at Josh. “Good luck,” he said. “I do hope you’ll survive.”

/>   “I’ll try,” Josh assured him.

  “All right. Huddle up.” Scrawl barked his orders like he meant them, and Josh and the others circled around him.

  “You guys know what to do,” he said, looking at each team member. When he came to Josh he stopped. “You’re the new guy,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you get to take it easy. This is your test, so I expect you to hold your own. Got it?”

  Josh nodded. “Got it,” he said.

  Scrawl held his gaze for a long moment, then said, “Good. Here’s the plan. Seamus and Finnegan, you two take section one. Bess and Stash, section two.”

  Stash groaned. “Not the sewer,” he said. “How come I always get the sewer?”

  Black-Eyed Susan punched him in the arm. “Maybe because you play like—”

  “Section three is Freya’s and Charlie’s,” Scrawl interrupted her.

  Freya and Charlie high-fived. “Piece of cake,” Charlie said.

  Josh had been hoping that Charlie would be with him. It would have been nice to have a familiar face around during his first IRL game. Also, he knew how good she was.

  “Josh and I will take section four,” said Scrawl.

  “What’s section four?” Josh asked.

  Stash laughed. “You’re standing in it,” he said.

  “The ship graveyard?” Josh said, looking around. “But this place is huge. It will take us hours to cover it.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Bess, grinning. “The z’s will find you soon enough.”

  A crackling sound came from out of the darkness, and Josh heard Clatter’s voice. “The quarry are being released,” he said. “The game will begin in three minutes. I suggest you get moving.” Then the lights in the room dimmed, throwing the ships into shadow.

  “You heard the man,” Scrawl said. “Get your butts in gear.”

  As the others ran off, Charlie turned and gave Josh a thumbs-up. “Good luck,” she called out. “I know you can do it.”

  Josh nodded. The game was beginning, and just as it did during the hologames, his heart was speeding up as adrenaline coursed through him. He wiped his sweaty hands on his suit and took a deep breath.

  “It’s go time,” Scrawl said. “You know how to do a one-two sweep?”

  “One guy goes in and drops, the other is right behind him ready to flame,” Josh answered. “You use it when checking a hallway, room, or stairwell.”

  “Right,” said Scrawl. “That’s what we’re going to do when we can. But a lot of this will be one-on-one. Just us and the meatbags. When that happens, there’s just one rule.”

  “Shoot before they bite,” Josh said automatically. Hearing Scrawl call the z’s meatbags made him think of his aunt Lucy and the talk he’d had with his mother, but he pushed that thought from his mind. It’s just a game, he reminded himself.

  “Good man.” Scrawl started walking. “Let’s head out.”

  They walked into the gloom, heading for the darker parts of the cavernous space first. Around them, pieces of machinery and the rusting hulls of ships rose up in twisted shapes. Josh kept his eyes and ears open. Although the hologame recreated the experience of being in a real place, this was real. He smelled the rusting metal and oil all around him. He felt the dirt and broken pieces of glass and metal under his boots.

  He and Scrawl approached the largest ship. “This is as good a place as any to start,” he said. “I’ll take point.”

  Josh followed as Scrawl entered the ship through a large hole torn in the hull. As they passed through the ship’s belly, Josh kept alert for any sign of zombie action. It was eerily silent, and even Josh’s and Scrawl’s footsteps were barely more than whispers.

  Suddenly a sound came from their right, a noise like metal scraping against metal. Josh whirled and pointed his flamethrower. But Scrawl held out his hand, stopping him. Without saying anything, he nodded his head, telling Josh they should keep moving toward the sound.

  They crossed the hold quickly but carefully. Josh scanned the floor, making sure he didn’t trip over anything or give away their approach. Beside him, Scrawl moved catlike through the dark, his flamethrower moving from side to side as he looked for signs of z’s.

  When they reached a doorway, they stopped. Josh listened. He heard the scraping sound again, but this time it seemed to be above their heads. At first he didn’t understand, but then Scrawl pointed up and moved his fingers in a walking motion. Stairs, Josh thought. It’s climbing some stairs.

  Scrawl motioned again, indicating that he would go first. He ducked into the stairwell, and Josh followed. As Scrawl dropped to one knee, Josh readied his flamethrower. But there was no sign of the zombie. Josh looked up and saw that the stairs went up into darkness. He heard something hit the floor above him and roll. Then there was a series of clanks as something fell between the stair railings and hit the next level.

  Josh stepped back just as the item tumbled from the darkness and landed where he had been standing. He bent down and looked at it. It was a length of pipe, covered in rust. But something didn’t look right about it. Josh reached out and touched the surface. His fingers came away sticky.

  Blood, he realized. One end is covered in blood. And not just blood. A clump of hair came away from the pipe as well. Josh dropped it in disgust and looked at Scrawl. “That’s real blood,” he whispered. “Someone is really hurt. We have to help.”

  He started to go up the stairs, but Scrawl pulled him back. “No,” he said quietly. “We have to play the game.”

  “But whoever that is—”

  “It’s part of the game,” Scrawl said. “Understand?”

  Josh began to object, but the tone of Scrawl’s voice stopped him. He’s not joking around, Josh thought.

  Scrawl pointed up once more. Then he led as they climbed the stairs. Josh kept his eyes trained up, trying to see through the steps. But there was nothing. And no sound came either.

  They climbed one level, then another. There was no sign of the zombie, and Josh’s neck hurt from craning his head upward. He was starting to think that the game wasn’t going well for him, and that Clatter would tell him he wasn’t good enough to be on the team.

  When they reached the third level, Josh looked down to stretch his neck muscles and noticed that the platform was splattered with blood. Following the trail, he saw that it disappeared though a doorway. Tapping Scrawl on the arm, he nodded toward the opening. Then he held up one finger, letting Scrawl know that he would go first.

  He stepped through the doorway and went into a crouch. Scrawl stepped in behind him. They were in a hallway. The blood trail continued before them. Josh stood up, and he and Scrawl began to move forward in the dimly lit corridor.

  It’s got to be here somewhere, Josh thought, trying not to think about how realistic the blood and hair on the pipe had looked.

  The hallway ended about twenty yards from where they had entered. In front of them was a door covering a pass-through hatch. It was held closed by five thick bars of steel that radiated out like the arms of a starfish from a central wheel. Turning the wheel would retract the bars and open the door. There was blood on the wheel.

  Josh turned to Scrawl. “It’s through there,” he said. “It must have gone through and closed the door from the other side.” It was a pretty smart move for a zombie, and Josh wondered if the person playing the part wasn’t being a little too clever.

  Scrawl nodded in agreement. “Let’s go,” he said. “But be careful.”

  Josh set his flamethrower down. He reached out and, avoiding the blood, tried to turn the big wheel. But it was rusted shut. He put all his weight into it. Soon sweat was running down his face and his muscles ached, but no matter how hard he pushed or pulled, he couldn’t budge it.

  Suddenly a horrible roar came from behind him. Josh whirled around and saw a zombie standing in the doorway he and Scrawl had just come through. It was a woman. Her long hair was matted, and her face was covered with sores. Above her right eye was a huge gash. Her scalp
was torn open. Blood oozed from the wound and ran down her cheek, which was streaked with dried gore. She really looks like a meatbag, Josh thought, impressed by all the trouble Clatter had taken to make the game more realistic. Still, Josh was kind of creeped out seeing something so gross in real life.

  Scrawl dropped down and aimed his flamethrower at the zombie, who was shuffling toward them. Her mouth was open, and long strings of drool hung from her battered lips. She moaned loudly as she moved. It almost sounds like she’s trying to talk, Josh thought as he raised his flamethrower.

  He waited for Scrawl to shoot. As the Torcher closest to the z, he had first shot. But Scrawl seemed to be struggling with his flamethrower.

  “It’s jammed!” he cried out. “I can’t fire!”

  The zombie was getting closer, and the gurgling in her throat was getting louder as she neared her prey. She reached out her hands.

  “Torch her!” Scrawl shouted. “Now!”

  7

  Scrawl flattened himself on the floor of the hallway and covered his head with his arms. Josh aimed his flamethrower at the zombie, who was only a dozen feet away now, and pulled the trigger.

  Flames erupted from the end of the torch. Josh watched, shocked, as the ball of flame hurtled toward the z, hit her in the chest, and bloomed. The zombie let out an unearthly scream and began beating uselessly at the flames as they consumed her dress. She staggered back toward the door, her hair blazing and her face engulfed in flames.

  Josh could only stare at her burning figure. His eyes saw that the zombie was on fire, but his mind couldn’t understand what was happening. It’s not real, he told himself. It’s just a game. The torch isn’t supposed to really work. Was it some kind of holographic trick? No, it was too real. Had he accidentally been given a real flamethrower instead of an electronic one?

  The zombie managed to get out of the hallway, which was now brutally hot and filled with black smoke and the foul stench of burning meat. A moment later Josh heard a muffled thud.

 

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