His Name Was Zach

by Peter Martuneac

  The other men had been trying to slide the gate closed, but they were not fast enough and the truck squeezed through. They fired a few rounds at the fleeing vehicle, but stopped when they realized it was futile. Zach drove down the road leading out of town and then pulled off into an open field when the gate was no longer in sight. He killed the lights so they would not be seen and drove cautiously across the field, heading away from the road towards some trees.

  Zach finally stopped the truck and turned it off. He climbed out of the cab to find Abby already on the ground with tears in her eyes and her hat scrunched up in her hands. “Dad, where’s Amber?” she asked in a wavering voice.

  Zach did not know what to say, so he stayed silent but stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Abby. She leaned forward against him, weeping softly into his shoulder.

  “I couldn’t save you both,” he whispered. “I had to choose between you and her.”

  “But you loved her. Why me?” Abby asked quietly through her tears.

  “Because you’re my baby girl and I will always protect you.”

  Abby had no words to say. Zach tried to comfort her, but he could only do so much. They stayed in their embrace for several minutes, thinking about all they had just lost: their home, their safety, their friends, the ones they loved. They were alone again, just a father and a daughter against the world. It was almost too much to bear.

  A twig nearby snapped, and both Zach and Abby turned swiftly to face the noise, pistols drawn and aimed forward. A tall man was walking forward, but he put his hands up when Zach said, “Don’t move!”

  The man hesitated, but then said, “Zach? That you?”

  “Ross!” Zach exclaimed, lowering his gun. Ross put his hands down and jogged forward, relieved to find his friends. Zach was initially happy to see that Ross had made it and moved to hug him, but then recoiled suddenly and said in a slightly hostile tone, “Where did you go?”

  “I saw Diane! Those men had her! I had to try to save her!” Ross said.

  “Well, where is she?” asked Zach.

  “She’s gone, man. They took her away before I could get to her, and then zombies chased me out of the town,” Ross said quietly, looking down at the ground.

  Zach looked apathetic, uncaring. He had just lost everything but Abby. He had once again lost the woman he loved, and to cope with this pain, he reverted to his natural self-defense: hardening his heart like ice. He expelled all emotions except for his love of Abby and forgot all relationships except for Abby. His pain became a cold coffin in which he had entombed his heart to keep it from further hurts, and nothing could reach it there. So Ross’ anguish and Diane’s plight meant nothing to him. More than that, having cut all emotional ties to him, he even made Ross a scapegoat.

  “That’s your problem. Because of you, Amber is gone,” he said.

  Ross looked horrified. “What? She’s dead? How did-”

  “Shut the fuck up, Ross. She’s gone because of you,” Zach insisted, pointing an accusatory finger at Ross.

  “What? I didn’t do anything!”

  “You ran! You left us to die!”

  “Zach, calm down! It’s not his fault!” Abby pleaded.

  “Diane’s my wife, Zach! I had to save her! We can still save her!”

  “From that!?” Zach asked loudly, gesturing back to the burning ruins of Little America. “Not gonna happen! And what’s this ‘we’ shit? You’re on your own now.”

  “On my own? After all we’ve been through! Zach, I’m sorry about Amber! I didn’t intend for that to happen!”

  “Well, it did. Because of you.”

  “Zach…” Abby started to say.

  “Hush, Abby! You should have stayed, Ross.”

  “Zach, I-”

  “I don’t wanna hear it, Ross. You fucked up. Let’s go, Abby,” Zach said, and then he walked back towards the truck to get his ruck.

  “You think you’re fucking perfect?” Ross shouted at Zach, following him a few steps. “Guess you forgot how you killed Vicky and lied about it to Abby!”

  “You what?” Abby said curtly to Zach, turning her head to him.

  Zach sighed loudly and said in a frustrated voice, “Vicky said she killed you, so I killed her. That’s all that happened.”

  “Yeah, you killed her alright. Slit her throat wide open, but not before cutting her tongue out and shoving it down her throat!” Ross said.

  “God, Zach!” Abby exclaimed, disgusted. “How could you do that? How could you lie to me?”

  Zach refused to answer as he threw his and Abby’s packs into the truck, and then he said, “Let’s go.”

  “Zach, stop it!” Abby said loudly.

  “We’re not helping Ross, Bug! Now let’s GO!” Zach said, angrily shouting the last word.

  Abby stomped over towards Zach with her hands balled into fists, barely in control of her temper. “Dad, what is wrong with you?” she said in a high-pitched, almost screeching voice. Zach opened the truck door but she kicked it closed. She was already extremely upset, and Zach’s unreasonable behavior was pushing the limits of her patience. “I know you’re angry about Amber, but guess what?! You’re not the first person to lose someone you love! And if we don’t help Ross then you absolutely won’t be the last! Stop acting like this! It’s wrong and you know it!”

  Zach was already fighting to control his sanity, and Abby telling him exactly what he needed to hear just angered him even more. He whirled around, got right in Abby’s face, and yelled, “I don’t fucking care, Abby! So just shut the fuck up!”

  And before he could stop himself, Zach hit Abby. His arm came straight out in front of him and his open hand struck her hard in her shoulder, knocking her to the ground. Zach stared down at her in anger for a moment, then he suddenly snapped out of his rage. A look of horror slowly spread over his face, but it was too late to take back what he had done.

  The expression on Abby’s face was absolutely heartbreaking to Zach. Some of her hazelnut hair had fallen across her face, partly covering one eye. Her cheeks blushed with pain and betrayal, her jaw hung open in disbelief, and her silver eyes watered up like mystic pools. Zach could see his own reflection in them and he thought that he looked like a monster. He had just yelled at his daughter. He had just hit his daughter. What the hell had come over him? She was the sweetest, kindest, most innocent girl in the whole world and, despite all of Zach’s shortcomings, she loved him unconditionally…and he hurt her.

  Abby’s gaze bored holes through Zach as she looked up at him and he was forced to lower his eyes. He could not bear to face her and he wished that the earth would open up and swallow him where he stood. A tear escaped Abby’s eye but she brushed it away as she slowly got up to her feet. “How could you?” she whimpered.

  “Abby…I’m so sorry, I-” Zach said, reaching for Abby. But for the first time ever, she shrank back from his touch. This subtle twisting away from him and her frightened, distant gaze, looking at him like he was a stranger, devastated Zach.

  “Baby, no. Don’t do this to me. You know I would never hurt you,” Zach pleaded.

  “You just did,” Abby replied.

  “Bug…I just…” Zach said, starting to calm down. He was so ashamed that he had snapped at Abby like that. He had never done that before. He wished that she would just get mad at him and scream at him, but she remained silent. He wished that she would hit him back. He deserved it. He deserved to be hit a thousand times, but Abby did not even move. Those six little words had wounded Zach more than anything else in the world could have and she knew it.

  Zach was about to fall to his knees in shame but then he saw Ross standing behind Abby. Images of Amber being torn to pieces by zombies came flooding back and brought his anger back with them. Once again he blamed Ross for everything, even for his outburst moments ago.

  “This is all your fault, Ross! You deserted us!” he shouted as he locked eyes with Ross.

  Tired of being blamed for everything, Ross said loudly, �
��Fuck you, Zach! Fuck you! You would have done the same thing for Grace!”

  Abby gasped and took an involuntary step back as she glanced from Zach to Ross and back to Zach. She could not believe Ross had just said her name!

  Zach stood still as a statue, staring at Ross, though his gaze was a thousand miles away. Ross felt a sudden twinge of fear, like maybe he had finally pushed Zach all the way over the brink, the way Vicky had done just moments before Zach cut out her tongue and slit her throat. He was not sure what was in Zach’s dark, savage eyes. It was not just anger, it was…a maelstrom of emotions: anger, fear, sorrow, guilt, loneliness, vulnerability, uncertainty.

  “Dad? Zach?” Abby said quietly, inching towards him. He was already behaving abnormally, and now she had no idea what he would do. But Zach did not even hear her. Inside his head, he was fighting a mental battle, struggling to keep his memories at bay.

  Grace.

  Zach could bottle up all of those old emotions and be fine. He could look at her picture and be fine. But he had not heard her name spoken out loud in a very long time, and every time it conjured up images of that fateful day.

  July 6th.

  No.

  His memory was crystal clear, and it was breaking down the bulwarks he had erected against it.

  Leave me alone!

  He just could not bear to go through it again. He closed his eyes as tight as he could, as if this could hold back the images.

  Please stop!

  Grace.

  Beautiful, wonderful Grace.

  The hospital in Afghanistan; the train in Chicago; skiing in Michigan; his proposal to her; their wedding day.

  July 6th.

  Such a blessed date. Then it became cursed; tainted. Tainted with her blood, spilt by his hands.

  No. No, no, no, no…

  ***

  “No, no Grace. Please,” Zach begged. Tears streamed down his face as he carefully backed into the corner of his bedroom. Grace slowly stalked closer, snarling. Her normally dark brown eyes were empty patches of soulless white.

  “Grace, please! It’s me, Zach! I’m your husband,” he said, but still Grace followed him, like a tiger that has cornered its prey. Blood still oozed from a bite wound in her neck, but already it was becoming a black, gooey, plasma-like substance. Zach kept backing into the corner of the room, towards his nightstand, where he kept a loaded 1911 pistol.

  She snarled again; Zach whimpered. He wanted to look away, but he knew that she would pounce on him the moment he did. He had his hands stretched out at his sides, ready to grab the nearest weapon of opportunity if he could not make it to his pistol. His right hand suddenly bumped into something on the dresser. It was a picture frame, and Zach knew which one it was without having to look. He picked it up and held it out to Grace meekly.

  “Look, honey. This is us. This was our wedding day, remember? Look!” he whispered, and he gently set the picture down on the bed to his left. Grace’s eyes followed it, and she suddenly stopped advancing. She stared at the photograph on the bed, and hope sparked in Zach’s heart.

  “See! See, you remember! Please Grace, I know you can hear me. I know you’re still in there. You have to fight it! Please!”

  Grace took a small step towards the bed and rested her hand on the picture. It showed Zach holding her in his arms, touching her nose with his finger. Grace felt something, some kind of pressure in her head. Something was trying to break out and take control. Her snarl softened and she almost looked sad.

  “Please remember, Grace. Please.”

  It was right there on the peripherals of her consciousness, some memory. It was hurting her as it tried to fight its way to the front of her mind. And it almost did, but like a rubber band stretched too far, it snapped violently and was forever broken. Grace snarled again, louder and more intense than before as her attention returned to her prey.

  “No,” Zach whispered as he felt behind him blindly with his right hand. “Oh God, please. No.” He wrapped his fingers around his pistol and carefully brought it forward. Grace saw this and sensed a threat. She crouched, getting ready to pounce.

  “Don’t do it, Grace. Don’t make me do it,” Zach pleaded as he cocked the hammer back, but his words fell on undead ears. Grace jumped at him.

  “God forgive me,” Zach muttered. Quick as lightning he lifted his pistol and fired without aiming. The big, .45 caliber round struck Grace in the forehead from point-blank range. Her head snapped back and her lifeless body tumbled awkwardly onto the bed. She did not move. She did not make a sound.

  The echo of the gunshot reverberated through Zach’s heart long after it left his ears. He did not drop the gun so much as it slipped from his limp fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud, the same noise his heart now made. He felt empty. Grace was gone, and he had pulled the trigger, ending her life on their second anniversary when she was six months pregnant with their daughter.

  Zach slumped back against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor. He did not move and he was barely breathing. He was not sure how long he sat there, staring at his wife’s lifeless body. All he could think about was how he had let this happen. They’d heard rumors about ‘zombies’ popping up in China, Russia, Europe, and even in America, but the politicians and the media had played it down as just another medical scare. But just two days later, zombies appeared suddenly in Chicago and at a rate faster than could be contained.

  A man was brought into a busy hospital, dying of what appeared to be rabies-like symptoms; he died only minutes after being admitted. But as the nurses attending to him tried to revive him, he suddenly came back to life as a feral zombie. Within minutes, the entire hospital was infected. Within hours, the entire city of Chicago was overrun by tens of thousands of zombies who moved swiftly out into the suburbs and beyond. The military tried to quarantine the city, but it was too large and the outbreak had been too sudden and had spread too fast. The situation soon spiraled out of control and America was pushed to the brink of collapse.

  Zach and Grace lived in a modest house on the outskirts of the South Side of Chicago. They were getting ready to leave and head south to live with their relatives. Zach had gone upstairs to make sure they were not leaving anything essential behind while Grace finished packing supplies into Zach’s ruck and a duffel bag. Zach suddenly heard screaming downstairs and dashed back down to find Grace on the floor with a zombie on top of her. He stabbed it in the head with his KA-BAR, but he was too late. She had been bitten in the neck.

  The disease was known to take longer to kill some people than it did others. The time it took for one to die after being infected depended on the location of the bite and the person’s immune system, so some people could hold out for as long as a week, while some people turned in mere seconds. Either way, a bite was a death sentence. There was no known cure or preventative. Some people claimed that if you were bit on an arm or leg, you could amputate that limb to save yourself, but that was never proven scientifically.

  Grace had been bitten in the neck, so she died in less than a minute, and came back only a few seconds later; Zach never even got to say goodbye or tell her that he loved her. She had chased him upstairs and then cornered him in their bedroom. But now she was dead. Zach had killed his wife and his unborn daughter.

  The sun was setting and Zach knew that he had to leave. He stood up and carefully touched Grace’s still warm body. He rolled her onto her back, put her hands on her chest, closed her eyes, and straightened her hair. He went into the bathroom, wet a wash cloth, and then used it to wipe off Grace’s face and neck. She almost looked normal again.

  Zach bent down to kiss her forehead as a tear rolled down his cheek and landed on hers. Zach thought bitterly how, if this was a fairy tale, the tear would have magical powers and would bring Grace back to life. But of course it did not. He picked up the picture frame he had tossed onto the bed and pulled out the photograph; it was a beautiful snapshot. He flipped it over and looked at his bad handwriting on the back: 2014
. I love you, Grace. He folded it up and dropped it into his shoulder pocket.

  He retrieved his pistol and slid it into a holster that he then attached to his belt and clipped around his thigh. He walked to the door and then turned around. He looked at Grace one more time, gazing at her still beautiful features. Then he left.

  ***

  Zach’s eyes snapped open as he returned to the present. He dropped his ruck and took four long, quick strides towards Ross, who had his hands stretched out in front of him.

  “Zach, wait! I’m sorry, I-”

  Zach grabbed his arm and violently leg-swept Ross to the ground. He sat on top of him, pulled his knife, and pressed the blade against Ross’ throat.

  “How dare you utter her name. How dare you use her against me. How fucking dare you!” Zach shouted. “Do you have any idea what that was like for me? Do you have any idea what it was like to kill my own wife? Do you?!”

  “No, and I’m sorry. I just…” Ross started to say, but he burst into tears. “I just want to save Diane! I love her so much and I can’t live without her! I’m sorry about Grace, and about Amber. I just don’t want to lose my wife. Please help me.”

  Zach was still fuming, but he said nothing. Abby gently laid her hand on his shoulder and said, “Zach, I know you’re hurting right now. I’m hurting too. But please stop acting like this. This isn’t you and it’s scaring me. We need to help Ross. He and Diane are our friends. It’s the right thing to do. Please, Dad.”

  Still Zach said nothing, but Abby kept her hand on his shoulder, knowing her softest touch had the ability to calm him. Zach was struggling with the demon inside him, trying to keep it chained up. It wanted to be freed so it could kill Ross and satisfy the bloodlust, but as strong as it was, it was no match for Abby’s love. Finally, Zach exhaled deeply and bowed his head as Abby took her hand off his shoulder and back away. He stood up as he sheathed his knife, helped Ross to his feet, and said, “I’m sorry, Ross.”