by James Ponti
“Keep driving!” Mom tells Dad. “Do! Not! Stop!”
She climbs up into the front passenger seat.
It the middle of all the mayhem, Dad turns to Mom as he speeds along the road.
“Last year on our anniversary,” he says to her. “I swear I saw your face in the crowd.”
“Outside Lincoln Center,” she replies, happy at the memory.
“I knew it was you! I knew it was you!”
“You guys do realize that we have two zombies trying to beat their way into this ambulance,” Beth says.
Pell’s on top of the ambulance, pounding the roof, and his one-handed partner is still trying to come in the back door.
“I’ve got an idea,” I say to Beth. “Let go of the handle.”
“What?” she says as she gives me an “are you crazy?” look.
“Trust me.”
We both let go at the same time and the latch opens. The zombie smiles for a second before I kick the door as hard as I can, making it fly open all the way. It knocks him off the bumper and he slams onto the street.
“Nice move!” says Beth.
I don’t even have a chance to respond before Pell swings down from the roof and flings himself through the now open door like an undead gymnast. His face is contorted with rage, and he starts swinging wildly as purple spittle shoots out of his mouth.
Grayson tries to fight him but Pell slams him against the wall of the ambulance, causing medical supplies to scatter all over. He head butts Beth and knocks her down hard onto the floor.
He is completely unstoppable.
“Hello, Molly!” he hisses as he looks at me with wild eyes. His orange and yellow teeth shine bright as he reaches down and grabs me by the throat.
I gasp for air, completely unable to breathe, and flail my arms at him.
None of it matters. He just continues to tighten his grip.
My eyes start to roll back and I catch a glimpse of my mom trying to crawl back toward us to help. It doesn’t seem to matter. It’s too late.
I open my mouth to scream but no sound comes out, just the hiss of air escaping.
“I should have done this a long time ago!” he says, tightening his grip even more.
I start to black out, and the last image I see is his smiling face.
Then I hear an electric charge and Pell begins to convulse. It lasts about a second or two, and his eyes go wild as he tries to figure out what’s happening. He has no idea, and then, without warning, his chest explodes and purple slime spews everywhere.
He just hangs there frozen in midair for a moment before his body falls dead.
As he does, he reveals Grayson, standing behind him with the electric paddles of a defibrillator in his hands. He has a look of wonder on his face, and I cannot begin to express how grateful I am that he has finally killed his first zombie.
He looks at me and I look at him, our eyes locking for a moment.
“Well, look who the hero is now,” I finally manage to say.
Cain and Abel
It all started ten months ago on the first day of school. I entered the Roosevelt Island subway station wearing a necklace that once belonged to my mother. I’d worn it because it had a charm that looked like a horseshoe and I thought it might bring me luck. What I didn’t know at the time is that it was actually an omega symbol, a memento of my mother’s status as a zeke, or zombie killer.
A Level 3 saw it around my neck and attacked me. I was completely overmatched and survived only because Natalie came to my rescue. Since then, whenever I return to that station, I can’t help but think back to the day that changed my life forever.
I’m heading there right now, but this time everything is different. Now I’m the one looking for a fight. I’m the one planning to do the rescuing.
“All units descend on Roosevelt Island subway station, northbound platform.”
That’s the emergency call we hear minutes after we busted my mom out of jail and Grayson killed Officer Pell. The radio scanner in my dad’s ambulance is tuned to listen in on the Dead Squad and their communications. We know they’re trying to capture Milton Blackwell, and this sounds like they’re getting close.
Thirty seconds later I get a call from Natalie and I put it on speaker. The reception is bad because she’s in the subway station, but she’s able to give us basic information about the situation.
“They’ve got Milton cornered on the northbound platform,” she tells us. “There are three Dead Squad cops down there with him, but they’re staying about ten feet away from him.”
“Why aren’t they just taking him?” asks Mom.
“He’s got something in a vial or a test tube,” she explains. “It’s hard to tell exactly what it is from here, but it sure has them scared.”
She explains that the Dead Squad found Milton’s secret home beneath the MIST Library and chased him through a series of tunnels that ultimately led to the subway station.
“How close can you get to him?” asks my mother.
“Just to the mezzanine overlooking the platform,” she replies. “They’re using their status as NYPD to close down access to the stairs. We can’t help him.”
Before we can ask anything else, we lose the connection.
“There’s no telling how long he can hold them off,” says Mom. “We better get there in a hurry.”
“But how can we help if they’re blocking off the stairs?” I ask.
“We’re not taking the stairs,” Mom says. “We’re taking the train.”
One of the advantages of driving around in an ambulance is that you can park it almost anywhere. Minutes later we’re at the Lexington Ave–63rd Street subway station, getting onto the F train. We are less than two minutes away from Roosevelt Island.
“What do you think is in the vial?” I ask my mother.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. All of his experiments are about figuring out how the Manhattan schist affects the undead.”
It is so surreal to see all four members of my family together again. It’s something I’ve dreamed about ever since we said good-bye to Mom in the hospital. Unfortunately, we don’t have any time to actually be together. Mom is trying to explain some of this to Dad, but it’s more than you can cover in two minutes while you’re rushing to fight a zombie police force.
We’re in the front car of the train, so we have a good view of the situation the moment we pull into the station.
“There they are,” I say, pointing. “In the far corner.”
The scene is still pretty much the same as Natalie described it. Milton is in the northernmost corner of the subway station. There are three Dead Squad cops who are blocking his way, but they’re also remaining at least ten feet away. And there are more even farther back than that. Milton is disheveled, but he seems focused as he holds a vial containing a bright blue liquid.
The subway doors hiss open and the five of us step out. It’s Mom, Dad, Beth, Grayson, and me. We only make it a couple of steps toward Milton before a handful of Dead Squadders come down to block our way.
“You’re going to be real cool and back away,” Mom instructs them. “Because Milton is going to get out of here right now.”
“I’m afraid we can’t let that happen.”
It’s Marek, and he’s walking down the platform right toward us.
“I just can’t seem to get you to die,” he says to my mom, his voice a mixture of frustration and admiration. “I’d kill you myself, but frankly I’m not feeling my best right now.”
“Clear everyone else out, Marek,” Milton says the moment he sees his older brother. “This is between you and me.”
“And if I don’t clear them out?” Marek asks.
“Then I’ll drop this and end it all.”
Marek laughs and shakes his head as he continues to walk toward him. “That’s the problem with baby brothers. They’re always such . . . babies. Please enlighten us as to what’s in your test tube?”
“It’s a synt
hetic pathogen,” he says. “The moment the liquid is exposed to air it will vaporize.”
“And what will the vapor do?” Marek asks condescendingly.
“Neutralize the Manhattan schist,” says Milton. “That means it will kill the undead. Within two minutes every zombie in this room would be dead. You and me included.”
This is pretty frightening. I assumed that Milton was trying to figure out how the schist kept the undead from dying in order to help them. It hadn’t dawned on me that by doing so he could also counteract its power.
Unlike me, Marek isn’t worried in the least. “No way,” he says. “You don’t have that in you. You’re the lover of people, the nurturer. I’m the monster, not you.”
“That all changed the moment you started to build an undead army,” Milton replies. “I knew you needed to be stopped once and for all, so I built the perfect weapon for the job.”
Marek is now about five feet away from Milton, and he’s having trouble telling if his threat is real or not. Milton senses this hesitation and adds, “Are you willing to risk everybody’s life, including your own? It’s the same mistake you made when we were digging the tunnel.”
This enrages Marek. “I didn’t make a mistake in the tunnel! That was all you, little brother. You’re the one who started all of this.”
“And I’m the one who will end it.”
Milton accentuates his threat by dangling the vial between his thumb and forefinger.
Marek regains his composure and turns to look at us for a moment. He locks eyes with my mother and smiles. Then he turns back to Milton.
“I don’t believe for one second that you would create such a weapon, but if you did, I know you wouldn’t use it here and now. It would kill your prized student right in front of her family.”
“Go right ahead, Milton,” says my mom. “I’ve been reunited with my family one last time. They know that I love them. You can drop the vial. I’m willing to be sacrificed if it means stopping him.”
I see the look of devastation in my father’s eyes as he clutches her hand. He’s just gotten her back. He can’t lose her again just moments later. Beth takes her other hand.
“It’s okay,” Mom reassures them.
I make eye contact with Milton, and I think he can read my panic.
“I’ll do it, Marek,” he replies. “I will expose everyone to Saccharomyces cerevisiae.”
I have to fight the urge to smile the moment I recognize the name.
The deadly pathogen is actually the harmless bacteria commonly known as yeast. I know this because every year Milton uses a vial of it as part of his first day of school lecture. He’s bluffing, and the only ones that know it are my friends and family. It gives us a slight advantage.
“I do have an offer for you, though,” says Milton. “Clear out all of your people, and I’ll do the same. Let’s just leave it to the two of us to resolve.”
Marek laughs. “You want to fight? Me?”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” says Milton. “That’s what you’ve wanted every day since that explosion.”
“You mean the explosion you caused?” he replies.
“I mean the accident that did this to us, our brothers, and our cousins.”
“Do you think you can fight me?” Marek asks. “Does my little scientist brother actually think he can fight big, evil Marek?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” says Milton.
Marek cannot resist the opportunity. He tells everyone on the Dead Squad to move back, and Milton tells us to do likewise.
Milton carefully places the vial on the ground and the two of them start to size each other up, stalking around like boxers in a ring.
“I have to be careful,” says Marek. “I don’t want to damage the body parts I need to have transplanted.”
Milton suddenly makes a charge and throws a punch at Marek, who simply catches the fist in his hand and stops it in midair. Then he counters with a punch that staggers Milton.
“This is just like when you were twenty,” Marek says. “You think you are so much more than you actually are. Then you thought you were smart enough to build a better explosive, but you weren’t. Now you think you are strong enough to fight me, but you aren’t.”
Marek throws another punch but Milton dodges this one and catches Marek with a punch to the jaw. Reflexively Beth, Grayson, and I let out a cheer.
“Get him, Milton!” shouts Natalie from the mezzanine.
Marek is furious and determined. “Playtime is over!”
I realize that Marek might be at his breaking point, so I step forward and march right toward the two of them.
“So this is the way the world ends,” I say, reciting from the poem “The Hollow Men.” “Not with a bang, but a whimper.”
They both look at me in total confusion, but they stop fighting so I have my opening.
“Is there a reason you’re reciting poetry?” asks Marek.
“Yes,” I say. “It’s from ‘The Hollow Men.’ Natalie says that it reminds her of you two. She says you’re hollow because your life has been taken out of you. But I don’t think that’s why you’re hollow.”
I wait for either one of them to respond, but neither does, so I just keep going.
“I think you’re hollow because you’re missing from each other’s lives,” I explain, trying to think fast and keep talking. “Despite everything you’ve said and done, Marek, Milton is still your brother. You still love him.”
He laughs derisively. “And what led you to this conclusion?”
I have now reached them, and the three of us are standing in a little triangle a few feet from each other.
“You did,” I say. “That day in Central Park by the statue of Alice in Wonderland. “You said you’d like to think that your family could reunite.”
Now he laughs even louder. “I was lying to you. It was a manipulation.”
“That’s what you tell yourself, but you weren’t lying. I could see it in your eyes. It was the most honest thing I ever heard you say. It’s also why you sent me those letters. Deep down there’s a part of you that wanted us to figure it all out. Maybe you don’t even realize it, but it’s there.”
He shakes his head. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“My sister and I fight,” I reply. “Nothing like the two of you. It’s usually about clothes or whose turn it is to do the dishes, but we fight. And sometimes I can’t stand her.”
I look over at my sister and smile.
“But she’s my sister and I love her more than anyone on earth.”
Beth smiles back at me.
“When you were little and Milton was trampled by the horse, who rescued him? Who carried him to safety?”
I notice a change in Marek’s expression. It’s slight, but it’s there.
“I should have left him there in the street,” he says. “Then none of this would’ve happened.”
“But you didn’t leave him,” I say. “Because you couldn’t. He’s your brother. You were heroic in his rescue. And when he became a scientist, you were proud. That’s why you wanted him to make the explosive. And earlier today, that’s why you named the research center at the zoo after him. He’s your brother and he’s a part of you.”
The two of them look at each other, and I can’t tell if anything I’ve said has made a difference.
“Could it be true?” asks Milton. “Could you still think of me as a brother?”
Marek shook his head. “Even if I could, it wouldn’t matter. If I don’t get your body parts, I’ll be dead in a matter of days. So I guess we are going to be reunited, the two of us forming one person.”
Just then there is the whoosh of a subway train as it enters the station.
“No, we won’t,” says Milton.
When the doors open, he surprises all of us by stepping on board.
“As soon as this train leaves the station, it will take me out of Manhattan,” he says. “I will die instantly. And when
I do, you will no longer be able to transplant my body parts. That means you will also die, in a matter of days.”
“No!” screams Marek. “Get off the train!”
There is at most another twenty seconds before the train doors close and seal both of their fates.
“Believe it or not, I still love you,” Milton says. “She’s right about us always being brothers. I am forever sorry about what has happened. We should never have lived like this. We should have died in the subway tunnel all those years ago. We should have died together. Come with me. Let’s leave this world as brothers and not enemies.”
Milton reaches out toward him, but Marek is frozen by indecision. He does not know what to do. Then, as the train doors start to close, he leaps on board.
I look through the window right at them. They stand face to face for a moment, and then they embrace. The last thing I see is Milton’s eyes as they close and he rests his head on his brother’s shoulder.
A rush of air roars out of the station as the F train departs and disappears into the darkened tunnel that leads to Queens. Moments later it passes beyond the protective blanket of the Manhattan schist.
Marek and Milton Blackwell are dead.
Ωmega
My family will never be . . . normal. That was true even before the undead disrupted our lives. But now, we’ll be even less normal than before. It’s been an odd couple of weeks since that day we broke Mom out of jail and watched Milton and Marek ride off in the subway.
Don’t get me wrong; it’s great that the four of us are together. But there are still a lot of adjustments that have to be made. After all, my mom is undead, and even though there isn’t an evil dark lord of the underworld trying to kill her, there will be some complications. My dad thought he had buried her forever, but he never stopped loving her. That’s the key to all of it . . . love. If you love someone, nothing else really matters.
My family is everything to me, and when I use that word I don’t just mean the people who share the same blood that I do. (In fact, some of them don’t even have blood.) No, I use it to mean the people who share my heart. All the people I love.
We are gathered together at the moment because this is family night. Well, technically it’s family day, and the rules are both simple and ironclad. When it’s my turn to pick what we do, then you have to do what I say. That’s why all of us are out on the Great Lawn in Central Park.
