Killer Z (12 page)
M
ichael watches Fred wander around asking everyone
if they’ve seen his missing grandson.
“Why didn’t they let us on the
helicopter, Michael?” Rebecca asks.
“I don’t know.”
“But you’re with Congress! We’re
supposed to be on that helicopter!”
“I guess that’s not really
important anymore.”
“The tsunami’s coming! We’re going
to die!” someone yells.
Many rush to the roof’s center
while others flee back inside. Elbows and fists start flying as the people
around them desperately want to survive.
“Rebecca, stay close.”
“Is this the tsunami, Michael?”
“Yeah, this is it.”
“Are they going coming back for
us?”
“I don’t know,” he says, then adds
truthfully. “I doubt it.”
“The National Mall is taking the
brunt of the tsunami!” someone yells and a feeling of hope blossoms.
“Lord, please protect us!” Fred cries
out.
“Hold on,” a man screams from the
outer edge of the crowd.
The hope dwindles as the building
shakes. Everyone freezes in place, their expressions terrified. The air is full
of tension as the temperature drops and a white fog engulfs the building. A
deafening roar swallows all voices. The biggest wave he’s ever seen swamps the
National Mall. The solid wall of dark blue devours the remaining buildings in
between the hospital and the coast. The overcast sky turns greenish.
The wave diverts along Constitution Avenue and heads east carrying an aircraft carrier. His lungs ache from the
sudden cold and his legs and arms bristle with goose bumps. Rebecca exhales
puffy wisps of breath. The deafening roar subsides.
A cheer lifts from the crowd.
“Rebecca, the worst is over!”
Michael holds her tight. They walk
to the edge of the roof. The harbor wave dwindles in the east, leaving only the
Old Post Office, the National Portrait Gallery and a few other buildings.
Ruined buildings poke out of the calming sea and water levels drop. No new
waves appear on the horizon.
The happy cheer is interrupted as
a blood curdling scream carries across the roof. A crazed man in a business
suit launches himself at a teenager. The zombie buries its mouth into the
struggling kid’s neck and ruthlessly tears out his jugular.
“Stand down or I will shoot,” a
police woman yells.
The creature ignores the cop and
mauls the boy’s neck. She shoots the zombie in the chest with a
pop
.
It drops the kid and rushes at her as she empties the gun.
L
arry slinks into the hospital. He stumbles blindly
through the hallways filled with self-loathing.
“All I do is help everyone and all
they do is shit on me. Just like those fucking marines. Why not have a drink if
I’m about to die?”
Larry tips back a small booze
bottle but abruptly stops as he hears a noise. He wonders if it’s a zombie.
“Is someone there?” a low feminine
voice asks.
A tall, willowy woman in pink
scrubs stands at a supply cart. Her dark hair is pulled back into a bun. Tendrils
escape at her temples giving her a fragile appearance. Deep brown eyes take in
his uniform, gun and disheveled appearance.
“Are you on duty?” she asks.
Larry considers saying no. Her
name tag reads- RN Natalie Vaughn.
“I suppose so. Officer Larry Anderson.”
“Can you help me, I’m hurt.”
“What happened? Did a zombie bite
you?”
“No, a dog bit me.”
“Was it a police canine?”
“A black girl called the dog
Pickle.”
“Pixel and Juliet?”
“Is she your dog? The bitch did
this to me,” Natalie says and holds out her arm.
He wonders why Pixel bit her.
“We’ll put her down when this mess is over.”
“Good,” Natalie says and flashes a
beautiful smile.
“At least it’s a shallow bite.”
“Can you clean me up?” she asks
and points to a cart full of supplies.
Larry locates antibiotic wash and
bandages.
“Sure. If the soldiers see the
bite they might shoot you.”
“Why’s that?”
“Zombies, I reckon.”
“You’ve got that wrong. They’re
demons.”
“It doesn’t matter what they are.
A bite equates to death. You’re as good as new.”
“Thanks.”
Natalie places her small hand on
his forearm and gives a squeeze. His cheeks redden.
“Were you trying to find a way to
the ground floor?”
“No, the city is flooded,” Larry
says. “You should come with me to the roof.”
“Jesus saved us. You can see the
street if you look out the window.”
Larry goes to the window to
see for himself. Piles of destroyed vehicles and boats lay tossed around the
parking lot but most of the water is gone.
“Whoa. There’s only a few feet of
water left. What a mess.”
“See, I told you.”
“The Old Post Office withstood the
assault. Oh hey, I see a police station and a church.”
Natalie tugs at his sleeve and
asks, “Please take me with you.”
“Ok, but if the lower floors are
flooded we can go to the roof.”
“Thank you!” Natalie says and presses
her body close.
“No problem. I’m here to protect
and serve, after all.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other
way.”
“We need to find a stairway.”
“This way,” Natalie says and
directs them to the stairwell. “I don’t want to be in here when they wake up.
The demons sleep during the day and wake at night. Some don’t sleep at all.”
“You mean the infected?”
“Hush and listen, the demons are
waking.”
Natalie wraps her hand around his
arm and stops on the stairs. She opens the emergency door leading to the second
level hallway. Flickering emergency lights illuminate turned over carts,
gurneys and medical equipment.
Natalie steps into the hallway but
keeps the door propped open. Everything is soaked and stinks of salt water.
Echoes of thudding and flopping can be heard. Larry turns on his flashlight and
walks into the hallway.
“Are you coming, Natalie?”
“No.”
“Stop acting crazy.”
“I’m not crazy,” she answers and
shouts from the doorway. “Hey, wake up demons!”
The thudding of feet mixes with
groaning. Patients burst from rooms in bloodied and tattered gowns. Their milky
white eyes squint away from the flashlight. They shield their eyes and run
towards him.
“Hurry before they get us,”
Natalie says.
“Shit,” he stammers and reaches
for the gun.
“They don’t die unless hit in the
head.”
There are too many to shoot. Larry
backpedals to the door and slams it shut. The zombies groan.
“Holy shit,” he says as the Zs
slam into the door.
Fists pummel the sturdy steel,
followed by scratching and moaning. Larry and Natalie retreat down the stairs.
On the ground floor they enter cold water. It laps at their thighs as they
trudge to the front entrance.
“What if the zombies, err demons,
are hiding in the water?” he asks.
“Jesus will guide us. We’re almost
there.”
Larry sloshes through the water,
fearing a zombie will pop out at any minute He holds his gun and flashlight
straight and keeps his eyes on the front doors. The entrance of the hospital
hangs open, the doors battered and broken from the tsunami. They exit the
building and enter a twilight lit wasteland of destruction.
N
ight engulfs the George Washington hospital. Fred
pats his shirt but remembers he’s out of cigarettes. Kyle holds his head as if
having a migraine.
“I’m out of cigarettes,” Fred
grumbles.
“Today is just as good as any
other day to stop smoking Dad.”
“Some compassion would be nice.
It’s wickedly cold out here. Here, take my flannel, your ice cold.”
Across the roof flashlights and
cell phones provide dim illumination.
“I don’t want it.”
Fred shrugs and turns to Rebecca.
“Pardon me ma’am, can I have one
of your cigarettes?”
“Sure.”
“Was that a zombie that attacked
the kid?” Fred asks and inhales the tobacco deeply.
“Yeah,” Michael says.
“What do we know about zombies?”
Fred asks.
“Only what’s on TV,” Rebecca says.
“And what’s that?”
“They like eating human flesh.”
“They need to be shot in the
head,” Juliet says.
“In Korea they needed to be
burned, hated light, and couldn’t stand high pitched noises,” Harry says.
“In the original Night of the
Living Dead they hate fire," Michael adds.
“They’re stupid as fuck but are
strong,” Kyle snorts.
“Don’t forget highly contagious,”
Michael says.
“How do they spread?” Kyle asks.
“What if they’re not zombies, but
demons?” Fred asks, but the others don’t listen.
“You get infected if bit or take
certain drugs,” Harry says.
“This happened in Korea?” Fred asks.
“I’ve seen this before. Shit, it’s
dark. We can’t stay on the roof. They get more active when the sun goes down.”
“The helicopters will come back,
right?” Rebecca asks.
“They aren’t coming back for us.
No one gives a damn about us. I’m walking out of damned city,” Kyle says.
“We have to wait for dawn. The Zs
are going to be looking for us,” Harry says.
“The Zs?” Fred asks.
“That’s Harry’s nifty name for the
zombies,” Juliet says.
“In Korea we were ordered to
poison local water supplies in Northern Korea with a drug nicknamed Compound
Z.”
“Do people who take Killer Z
become zombies?” Kyle asks and Rebecca pales.
“Affirmative,” Harry says.
“Thankfully the two cops will
protect us. I can’t believe Larry didn’t stick around,” Michael grumbles.
Vinnie smokes a joint and says,
“I’m going to turn into a zombie for smoking the Zs?”
“Sorry kid, your screwed. We’re
sitting ducks on this roof,” Harry insists.
Purple and white lighting rips
across the murky night sky. Shivering, Fred stomps in place to keep warm.
“Are you coming home?” Fred asks
Kyle.
“Dad, I don’t know. You think
we’re going to survive this shit?”
“Son, God will protect us.”
Colin walks over and says,
“They’ve evacuated the children to some hotel in Greenbrier, Virginia. You
could follow the train tracks out of the city or jack a vehicle in the
morning.”
“Or we could smoke more pot until
the inevitable happens,” Vinnie says.
“Is there any other way out of the
city?” Fred asks.
Colin shrugs, “Not that I know
of.”
Nearby Juliet sobs softly to
Harry, “I can’t believe that crazy nurse killed the babies”
“But you saved one,” Harry says as
he attempts to comfort her.
“Do you really think my dad is a
zombie?”
Harry pats her shoulder and says,
“I hope not.”
“Excuse me? Did you save a baby?”
Fred asks.
“Yeah,” Juliet answers, sniffling.
“I’m looking for a baby boy,
Anthony Smith.”
“Are you the dad?”
“No, I’m the grandpa. Did you see
my grandson?”
“Yeah, we put him on the last
chopper.”
“Anthony is alive! Thank you so
much,” Fred says and impulsively hugs Juliet and Harry.
Pixel barks ferociously and the
crowd quiets.
“What’s wrong, Pixel?” Juliet
asks, alarmed.
The K9 faces the stairwell.
Moaning comes from within the hospital. Pixel bares her teeth as her ears
slant. The police officers take out their handguns and look at the door.
“Please Jesus, don’t let it be the
zombies,” Fred says.
The door bursts open. Crazed, gore
covered patients flood the roof with an inhumane symphony of moaning and
groaning. The crowd shoves each other in terror. Many try fleeing to the
opposite side of the roof.
“Where did they come from?” an
officer screams.
“There’s too many!” the other
yells.
Pixel’s tail lowers between her
legs. The creatures rush the officers with agile speed.
“Shoot them already!” Kyle
screams.
Fred jumps as the guns
pop
.
Bullets smack into the zombies but do little damage.
“Shoot them in the head!” Juliet
screams.
The cops take down three
zombies and run out of ammunition. The officers are tackled and disappear in a
mass of limbs. A male zombie with multiple bullet holes in its chest leaps on a
young lady near Fred. The monstrosity moans in ecstasy as it pins the
struggling woman to the roof.
“We can’t stay,” Harry yells and
pushes away a zombie.
“Go for the stairwell on the other
side,” Fred shouts.
Screams of terror turn to pain and
agony. The sound of suckling and tearing flesh fills the rooftop. Many jump off
of the roof preferring a quick death.
“Look out,” Fred yells to Vinnie.
The stoner is yanked from his feet
and a zombie digs into his soft belly. People and zombies run in all
directions. Fred pushes Kyle towards the stairs. Pixel darts ahead and enters
the stairwell first. Rebecca, Michael and Juliet follow with Harry slamming the
door. They stumble down a dark stairs. Rebecca trips over Karen and slams hard
into the cement wall.
“Come on, baby,” Michael says.
“I slipped.”
“Shhh, the Zs might hear us,”
Harry whispers.
Everything below the second floor
landing is wet and slick. They reach the lobby and plunge into thigh deep
water. Corpses bob up and down around them.
“I can’t walk in that!” Juliet
says.
“Think of them as logs,” Harry
mutters.
Fred ignores the corpses and
sloshes through the lobby with Kyle.
“I don’t want to do this,” Rebecca
says.
“Honey, it will be ok,” Michael
reassures her.
“Stop acting like scared little
girls,” Kyle mocks from the entrance.
“Ewe, this is so nasty. Michael,
you owe me a spa.”
“Rebecca, screw owing you one, I’m
going with.”
“It’s only dirty water,” Fred
calls out.
They slosh through the water,
pushing away computer monitors, couches and chairs as they go. Scared, they
leave the hospital and exit into the city.