Z

by Michael Thomas Ford

  Josh nodded. His father left him alone, and he stood staring at the cooking meat. Once again the amazing smell overwhelmed him. He reached out with the fork and pierced one of the steaks. Juice dripped onto the grill, where it bubbled and blackened. The rest pooled on top of the meat. Josh touched it with his fingertip and ran it over his lips, smearing them with blood. His tongue flicked out and licked it off. The iron taste filled his mouth, and he wanted more.

  His steak was still waiting to go on the grill. Instead of putting it on, he took a knife and cut off a large chunk. Shoving it into his mouth, he chewed it with big bites, his teeth shredding the meat into pieces that he gulped down greedily. It was amazing, and he picked up the knife to cut some more.

  “Are you eating raw meat?”

  Emily was standing in the doorway, looking at Josh with an expression of disgust. “Do you know what lives in meat?” she said. “You could totally get worms.”

  Josh heard her talking, but he was more interested in the way she smelled. Like the steak, she reeked with the aroma of blood. He could hear her heart beating. No, he could feel her heart beating, pushing blood through her veins.

  “Hello?”

  Josh shook his head to clear it. Emily was pointing to the grill, where the steaks were starting to smoke. Josh looked at them for a moment, not realizing what was happening. Then something in his mind turned back on, and he understood that he needed to do something. He quickly flipped the steaks over. The sides that had been against the grill were blackened.

  “Mom’s going to kill you,” Emily decreed before turning around and marching out of the room.

  Josh turned his attention back to the steaks. He added his own to the grill and tried to ignore the smell. Something weird was definitely going on in his head, and he knew it had to be the Z. It’s your reptile brain taking over, he told himself. He didn’t know whether that was true or not, but whatever it was, it felt really weird. Weird and kind of exciting. It was as if he’d become somebody else—no, something else.

  That thing was still inside of him, and it was growing stronger. Slowly Josh felt the part of his brain that could think clearly shutting down as the other, wild part took over. Everything grew a little hazy as his eyesight changed but his sense of smell intensified.

  “Josh, are those steaks done?”

  He heard his mother’s voice, but when he answered her all that came out was a growling sound.

  “They smell done,” said his mother. “I think they’re ready.”

  Josh managed to get the steaks off the grill and onto a plate, but the smell was almost too much for him. He had to push himself away from the counter before he tore into all four steaks. As it was, he grabbed his own steak and ran with it into the bathroom. Slamming the door, he sat down on the floor and began devouring the meat.

  He held the steak in both hands, ripping at it with his teeth. It was still mostly raw, and blood dripped from the shredded pieces. He barely tasted the chunks of meat as he swallowed them, almost choking. He’d never been so ravenous in his life.

  A banging on the door stopped him. “You all right in there?” his father called out.

  Josh looked at the steak in his hands. Blood covered his fingers, and there were chunks of meat on the floor around him. He stopped himself from picking them up and eating them.

  “I’m okay,” he answered his father. He had to concentrate hard on speaking the words.

  “Well, don’t stay in there all night,” his father said. “Dinner’s ready.”

  Josh said nothing, but he heard his father walk away. He looked once more at the steak in his hands. There was very little of it left—mostly fat and some stringy pieces covered in blood. Looking at it made him both sick and hungry. Before he couldn’t resist any longer, he dropped the remaining meat into the toilet. He scooped up the pieces on the floor and added them as well, then flushed the whole mess down. He watched the meat swirl around the bowl and disappear.

  He went to the sink and turned on the cold water. Bending down, he put his mouth under the tap and let the water fill it. It washed away some of the meat taste, but not all of it. He drank some more, swallowing and trying to rinse the blood from his throat. He suddenly felt like he might throw up.

  He turned the water off and looked at himself in the mirror. His pupils were huge black circles.

  The wild feeling was still there, waiting. As sick as he felt, there was something really exciting about letting that other part of him take over for a little while. Everything felt more real, more raw, more alive.

  If that’s what being a zombie felt like, he was surprised. He’d always thought of them as being stupid, mindless things that didn’t know what they were doing and didn’t feel anything. But he felt so much. All he did was feel. Every sensation was intense beyond words. And he didn’t need words because there was no reason to think about anything.

  Next time it will be easier, he told himself. I’ll be ready.

  He washed his hands, checked his eyes to see if his pupils were any smaller (they were, a little), and got ready to join everyone for dinner. He didn’t know what he was going to say about the steak, but he would come up with something. He would be funny, and they would all have a good time.

  Charlie was right—there was nothing to worry about. The Z had been a little intense, but nothing too heavy. Best of all, he had enjoyed it, and it really had opened his mind up to what it might feel like to be a zombie. He could see why Charlie took it while she was playing the game. It really made you think like a z did.

  He thought about the game tomorrow. It was going to be great. He laughed. His life had changed radically over the past few days. “And this is just the beginning,” he told his reflection.

  11

  It was raining hard the next morning. The wind blew the water across the beach in heavy sheets, carrying with it discarded candy wrappers, empty cans, and other trash that littered the sand. The ocean lapped at the shore with dirty brown tongues flecked with yellowish foam. A dead gull, its feathers matted and torn, was dragged into the water by a wave.

  Josh wiped his hair from his eyes and looked for the entrance to Happy Time. He spotted it a little way down the boardwalk—a huge grinning clown’s head, its paint worn away so that it had only one eye. Josh carefully made his way along the dilapidated boardwalk. Passing through the clown’s open mouth, he walked among the arcade of empty booths until he found one marked with a torn poster of a bearded lady. OME SEE THE FREAK SHO, it declared in big letters. To the right of the sign was a doorway covered by a dirty, yellowed curtain. Josh pushed through it and into the room beyond.

  “You’re late.” Stash looked at Josh and popped a nut into his mouth.

  “Five minutes,” Josh shot back. “The train sat in the tunnel for twenty minutes. I guess the tracks were flooded.”

  “It’s no problem,” Bess assured him. She was just pulling on the heavy black boots that went with their uniforms. She gave Stash a scowl. “Besides, Scrawl isn’t even here yet, so settle down.”

  Stash turned away and walked over to a battered old sofa upholstered in red velvet. When he sat on it, a cloud of dust rose around him. He started sneezing violently.

  “Serves him right,” Bess said, laughing. “What a jerk.”

  Josh set his backpack down and started to dress. He saw Seamus and Finnegan in another part of the room, but Freya and Charlie weren’t there. He asked Bess where they were.

  “They’re helping Clatter bring the flamethrowers up,” she said. “He keeps a locker of them in one of the lower levels.”

  “Have you played here before?” Josh asked as he stepped into his Torcher uniform.

  “Once,” Bess answered. “It’s a little creepy. Most of the rides are pretty much gone, but a couple of them are still standing. They don’t work, of course, but it’s still weird walking around inside of them. She looked at Josh. “Don’t worry, though. It’ll be fun.”

  A curtain at the rear of the room opened and C
latter entered, accompanied by Freya and Charlie. Each of them carried a bag and set it on the ground. Freya unzipped one of them and removed three flamethrowers. She opened the other two bags and removed five more.

  “Josh!” Clatter said. As he walked over to greet Josh, his coat of keys jangled merrily. “Are you ready for your first big game?”

  Josh nodded. “I think so,” he answered. “Who are we playing for?”

  Clatter wagged a finger. “We never discuss the wagerers,” he said. “You let me worry about that. You just focus on playing a good game.”

  Charlie came over to stand by Josh. “How are you feeling?” she asked in a whisper.

  “Pretty good,” Josh said. “Last night was amazing.”

  Charlie grinned. “Didn’t I tell you?” she said.

  Josh looked at her. There was something funny about her eyes. They weren’t quite focusing on him. “Are you on it now?” he asked.

  Charlie giggled. “Yeah,” she said.

  “I thought you only use it when you play the hologame,” said Josh.

  “Sometimes I take it when we’re playing for real,” Charlie answered. “It’s even more intense then.”

  Josh looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Can I have one?” he asked.

  Charlie shook her head. “You’re not used to it yet.”

  “Come on,” Josh begged.

  Charlie leaned in close. “Don’t talk about it here,” she said. “And no, you can’t have any. It’s too risky.”

  Josh groaned. “You’re no fun,” he said, only half joking.

  “Hey, guys.” Scrawl entered the tent, shaking water from his coat. “Sorry I’m late. The damn train got stuck.”

  Josh looked over at Stash, waiting for him to say something smart. But Stash just looked down and dropped a shell onto the floor. He’s afraid of Scrawl, Josh thought with some satisfaction. He just thinks he can bully me because I’m the new guy. Well, we’ll see about that.

  “Never mind,” Clatter said to Scrawl. “Just get your team together and meet at the starting point in fifteen minutes. You know what to do.”

  Scrawl glanced at his watch. “No problem,” he said. “We’ll be ready.”

  Clatter looked around at the rest of them. “In that case I wish you all good luck and happy hunting,” he said.

  When Clatter was gone, Scrawl called everyone together. As he laced up his boots, he went over the plan for the game.

  “We’re starting at the entrance to the funhouse,” he said. “Two teams. First team is Seamus, Finnegan, Bess, and me. Second team is Freya, Charlie, Josh, and Stash.”

  Josh groaned silently. Why did he have to be on a team with Stash? But at least Charlie would be with him.

  “There’s a total of twelve z’s running around this place,” Scrawl continued. “That means we each get at least one kill. The other four are up for grabs. But nobody hog them,” he added, looking meaningfully at Stash. “Everybody gets a chance at the bonuses. Got it?”

  Stash looked away. “Got it,” he muttered.

  “That’s all there is to it,” Scrawl said as he stood up. He turned to Josh. “Did you study the manual?”

  “Yep,” Josh said.

  “I hope you memorized the maps,” said Scrawl. “You’ll need them to play this field. It’s got some tricky sections.”

  “I’m good to go,” Josh assured him.

  “Put this in your ear,” said Scrawl as he handed Josh device the size of a small gumball. “It’s a communicator. You’ll be able to hear everyone else, and they’ll hear you. Keep the chatter to a minimum. You can imagine what it’s like if everyone talks at once.”

  Josh tucked the communicator into his left ear. It fit snugly, then expanded to fill the space. There was a slight tickling sound as something bonded with his skin. “This is biotechnology,” he said, surprised. “I thought only the military used stuff like this.”

  Scrawl grinned. “Like I told you before, Clatter has connections,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  They left the freak-show tent and walked to the end of the arcade, where a dilapidated structure with FUN HOUSE written across the front stood with its doors yawning open. Scrawl went inside, and the rest of the team followed.

  Scrawl checked his watch. “We should be starting right … about … now,” he said as the now-familiar electronic woman’s voice came through the communicator in Josh’s ear.

  “Torchers, prepare for play,” it said.

  In front of them, mirrored doors swung inward, revealing a staircase going down. “Use the lights on your torches,” Scrawl reminded them as he led the way.

  Josh turned on his light, which produced a thin but clear beam courtesy of the halogen bulb mounted above the flamethrower’s barrel. He kept it pointed down as he followed Seamus into the stairwell.

  At the bottom of the stairs Scrawl stopped. “Team one, we’re going north,” he said, indicating a long hallway off to his left. Team two, head south.”

  Scrawl and his team moved out, leaving Josh, Charlie, Freya, and Stash at the foot of the stairs.

  “Listen up,” Freya said. “I want this to be quick and clean. We make a sweep of our quadrant, we torch anything we see that isn’t human, and we collect our pay.” She looked at Josh and spoke in a low voice. “Remember, there are cameras monitoring us at all times. The customers want to see action, so make sure you’re always on.”

  Josh nodded. He understood the rules. If they performed well, the customers made bigger bets and everyone made more money. But Josh wasn’t concerned just about the money. He wanted to show that he could really play.

  “My guess is that we’re going to have a six-and-six,” Freya said as they started to walk. “Clatter almost always divides them up equally.”

  That means two of us will get a bonus z, Josh thought. He hoped he got one. He also hoped Stash didn’t.

  The tunnel they were in suddenly curved to the left and opened up into a small room filled with machinery. Freya turned to Josh. “Do you know where we are?”

  Josh pulled an image of the map from his memory, trying to recall all the different sites. “The merry-go-round,” he said. “We’re underneath it.”

  “Good job,” Freya said. “And ahead of us through the door on the other side?”

  Stash made a spitting sound. “What is this, kindergarten?” he said. “It’s the bumper cars, then the Tilt-A-Whirl, then the flying swings.”

  “Actually, it’s the Tilt-A-Whirl, then the bumper cars,” Josh said without thinking.

  “Josh is right,” Freya said.

  Stash grunted and spat on the floor. Josh avoided looking at him, but he knew what the other boy was probably thinking. He chided himself, You should have just kept your mouth shut.

  A crackling sound filled Josh’s ear, followed by Clatter’s voice. “Team one has located and neutralized one target,” he said.

  “Damn!” Stash said, slamming his hand against a piece of machinery. “They get the first-kill bonus.”

  “Calm down,” Charlie said.

  “We could have had it if we weren’t standing around here chatting like a bunch of girls,” Stash said angrily.

  “We need to make up some time,” Freya said, ignoring him. “Split up. Charlie, you come with me. Stash, you and Josh check out what’s going on topside.”

  “Topside?” Stash groaned. “Why do I have to go topside?”

  “Because I said so. Now shut up and go!”

  Charlie and Freya headed off to the other side of the room, while Stash started climbing a ladder that ran up the side of one wall. He didn’t say a word to Josh, who followed him, wishing he were with anyone else.

  At the top of the ladder Stash pushed against a hatch that swung up and over. Then he put his head through the hole, looked around, and climbed out. Josh emerged after him into a gloomy tent that covered a large merry-go-round. Rain pounded on the roof and dripped through holes in the rotting canvas. In the semidarkness Josh saw the animals
of the carousel sitting silently, their painted eyes staring straight ahead.

  Stash still said nothing as he walked around the edge of the merry-go-round. Josh decided to walk in the other direction. The carousel was large enough that after a few steps he could no longer see Stash. Instead he focused on the merry-go-round itself. A meatbag could easily hide among the carved horses, tigers, and rabbits.

  A second later he heard a whooshing sound and the clatter of broken glass. Then he heard Stash yell in frustration. As Josh started toward the other side, a figure emerged from the carousel and hobbled toward the side of the tent, where a slit in the canvas created a kind of doorway.

  Josh aimed his flamethrower at the zombie. “Target in sight!” he shouted, and pulled the trigger. Just as he did, a second figure came flying out from between two horses. Startled, Josh jerked to the side so the stream of fire from his thrower missed the zombie and narrowly avoided catching the second figure, which fell to the ground bellowing in pain. Josh realized, too late, that it was Stash.

  “Torcher down!” he yelled, kneeling down beside Stash.

  “Get the hell away from me!” Stash shouted, shoving Josh. “You fouled my kill, you stupid noob.” He stood up and ran after the zombie, who had managed to leave the tent.

  Josh got up, retrieved his flamethrower from where it had fallen, and looked around. He knew he should follow Stash, but he really didn’t want to be anywhere near him right now. It would be better for him if he returned to the hallway and tried to find Freya and Charlie. But he knew it was foolish to leave a Torcher alone chasing a z, especially one that might be wounded. Besides, he thought, maybe this is another test.

  He heard a crackling in his earpiece, then Freya’s voice came through. “Josh, what’s the situation?”

  Josh hesitated. He wanted to say that Stash was injured, but since Stash had run off he wasn’t sure that was true. And he didn’t want Freya to think he was panicking.

  “We sighted a z,” he said. “Stash is in pursuit.”

  “Good,” Freya said. “Then you know what to do.”