Z-Minus (Book 5)

by Perrin Briar

  Susan leaned over the balcony. The majority of the undead were still walking into the walls and fighting with the fountain.

  “Only a few,” Susan said. “Maybe… Fifty?”

  A sharp intake of breath from over Susan’s shoulder. Richard. He was terrified. He stepped backward, waving his hands, eyes wide.

  “There’s only a dozen of us!” he said. “We’ll never make it!”

  “We should be able to handle it,” Steve said. “Everyone form up. Give each other plenty of room.”

  The soldiers spread out, fanning into a semi-circle before the stairs. The furniture screeched back farther into the corridor, pushed back by an invisible monster. The groans grew louder and more aggressive, echoing up the stairwell.

  The soldiers shared an expression. It wasn’t the fear Susan felt, but something else. Expectation? Trepidation? A mixture of the two. There was a little confidence there too.

  The undead fell through the furniture, tripping and hitting the floor hard. The soldiers were on them immediately, slicing off heads with strong smooth movements of their shiny metal appendages, and kicking aside their heads with heavy boots, and stamping their necks beneath their heels.

  Susan stood, frozen and motionless, a snapped chair leg in her hands. She stepped forward to deal with an undead, only for Taylor to get there first. She second guessed herself, holding back and not knowing what she was doing. An amateur substitute on a professional team.

  The soldiers fought tooth and nail, but the undead still pushed them back, forcing them into the adjoining room.

  “Get inside!” Steve said.

  Susan, Richard and Phil entered first, followed by the soldiers. The room was festooned with weaponry. It was shiny and new, like something from a James Bond research chamber. All kinds of futuristic weapons lay on tabletops and in specially-made holsters.

  The undead growled, hissing at the soldiers, and spilled through the door. There was only one entrance and exit. The soldiers stood their ground, leaping back as fast as they could.

  One undead fell down, within striking distance of Taylor’s prosthetic leg. It bit her. Taylor screamed in pain. She skewered the undead’s skull on the end of her lance-like blade, spat on it, and then reached down and pulled a wire from her prosthetic limb.

  “Damn it,” she said. “Why did I have to have the sensory input installed today?”

  Susan was pinned behind the soldiers, not knowing what to do with herself. She should have helped them fight, but she didn’t know how. She would have only gotten in the way.

  The undead pressed forward. The soldiers were slowing, tired from their exertions. Susan backed up against a large intimidating machine. It was tall, almost touching the roof. It had a front shield to protect the trigger man inside. A futuristic turret.

  Susan had an idea.

  She ran around to the back of the machine. She pulled the protective sheet off and pressed a series of buttons.

  “Susan?” Richard said. “What are you doing?”

  Susan hit a big red button. The machine began to whir. The soldiers turned to look at it. The undead paused, curiosity painting their faces. Pistons hissed, drawing Susan up to her new full height. It was a mech suit. It was plugged into the mains. She couldn’t move from her position, but perhaps she didn’t need to.

  “Everybody get down!” Susan shouted.

  The soldiers hesitated – after all, they were face to face with the undead, and lowering their guard meant death.

  “You heard the lady,” Steve said. “Down!”

  “But the zombies-” Jericho said.

  It was all he could do to hit the floor before a ray exploded in a burst of red light from the mech suit’s chest. It struck the closest undead, searing a hole into his skull like a hot knife through butter, and burst out the back in the same heartbeat. The laser struck the zombie behind him, piercing him through the chest, setting his clothes on fire. The stink of scorching flesh filled their nostrils.

  Susan pulled the death ray around, left to right, slicing through the undead, dismembering arms and legs as easily as tearing them off a fly. The laser was stopped only by the thick drywall, but it nonetheless left a burned black scar.

  The lights overhead flickered, and the red laser flickered along with them, finally cutting off. A shape like a butterfly’s wings was burned into Susan’s vision.

  Pieces of paper that’d been taped to the wall were still aflame, and gave some light to the room. The undead lay unmoving or jittering on the floor. A couple of undead bodies were fully aflame, the flesh cooking. It smelled delicious. Susan was hungry. But not that hungry.

  “I’ve got to get me one of those,” Jericho said.

  “Good luck,” Richard said. “Even the military doesn’t have anything like this yet.”

  An undead crawled along the floor toward the crouching soldier, its entrails dragging behind it. Taylor put her metal leg to its head and pressed down. It slid through with ease.

  Phil reached up to help Susan down from the mech suit. Her hands were still clenched tight around the controls, and would have kept firing if there was any juice left. Phil eased her fingers off the controls.

  “It’s okay,” Phil said. “You can let go now.”

  But the images of the undead, their faces lit up with red, were burned into Susan’s eyes every bit as much as the laser line. She felt sick to her stomach.

  “Why’d the lights go out?” Jericho said.

  “The laser,” Richard said. “It must have taken up all the power from the grid. With no one at the controls at the power station I suppose there’s no way to reliably maintain it.”

  The lights flickered back on, revealing the bloodstained undead in all their horror under a harsh florescent light.

  The soldiers slammed their sharp robot appendages into the dead still dying on the floor as they moved toward the door. The grunts and groans of the undead filled the stairway. More were on their way.

  The survivors turned and ran for the second set of stairs on the other side of the elevator. They pulled the furniture they had prepared onto the stairs, this time with greater urgency and a lot less silence.

  “I thought we used up all the juice?” Jericho said.

  “It’s the emergency backup power,” Susan said.

  “Emergency?” Jericho said. “How long will it take before that’s gone too?”

  “Ten hours,” Richard said. “Give or take.”

  “Heavens give, I hope,” Jericho said.

  “Will this affect the robot on the top floor making the cure?” Steve said.

  “No,” Susan said. “He’ll carry on exactly where he left off. But we’d better check, just in case. Phil?”

  Phil nodded and took off at a run up the stairs.

  The soldiers split off into their lookout positions; one at each stairwell, another at the plated glass window, looking at the dark city around them. They were one of only a few buildings with power. They’d attract even more of the monsters.

  “Nice work with the laser,” Steve said.

  “Thanks,” Susan said.

  “I dread to think what might have happened if you hadn’t thought fast,” Steve said. “Is there anything on this floor we can use like the mech suit?”

  “It’s the biological warfare division,” Susan said. “There will be some acids we can throw at them, but I wouldn’t release the other viruses they’ve got in here.”

  “No,” Steve said. “That would sort of defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it.”

  Z-MINUS: 3 hours 18 minutes

  Susan paced up and down the corridor again, her phone plastered to her ear. For the moment the zombies were at bay, shuffling around on the second floor. Occasionally there was a loud bang as one of them stumbled into something and it fell over, clattering to the floor. The zombies groaned in response and fell upon it, making even more noise. But Susan was largely ignorant of what was happening beneath her feet, only what was happening in her ear.

 
“Come on, answer,” Susan said, grinding her teeth.

  She’d called five times already, and Rosario hadn’t answered. Susan was beginning to get worried. They should have long been at her cottage by now. Perhaps they’d run into problems? They’d gotten caught in the crossfire between the army and the undead?

  Susan shook her head to calm herself. It did no good getting upset and making up stories. They were probably fine. They just hadn’t arrived yet…

  Or Rosario had forgotten her phone, or left it somewhere. Suddenly it made sense. That seemed the most likely reason. Susan felt a surge of hope. She dialed her landline number. It rang, and within three rings, it was answered.

  “Rosario?” Susan said, gripping her phone tight to her ear. “Rosario? Are you all right?”

  “Hello?” a voice on the end of the line said.

  It wasn’t Rosario’s voice. It was a young voice, a young boy. Susan’s hopes dwindled as she realized she must have dialed the wrong number. But perhaps this was a neighbor. She could ask them to check on her house to see if everything was okay.

  “Who is this?” Susan said.

  “Markus,” the boy said.

  “Markus?” Susan said. “Rosario’s grandson, Markus?”

  “Yep,” Markus said.

  Relief flooded Susan once more. Of course Rosario would go pick up her grandson before heading somewhere safe. Susan chastised herself for not thinking it through before. She’d have done exactly the same thing.

  “Is Amy there?” Susan said.

  “Yes,” Markus said.

  Another wave of relief.

  “She’s playing with some blocks,” Markus said, clearly not excited by the game.

  “Is Rosario there?” Susan said. “I need to talk with her.”

  “She’s in the bathroom,” Markus said.

  “Okay,” Susan said, thinking it was too much information.

  “She’s been in there a long time,” Markus said.

  Susan’s attention snapped back to the present, not least because of the slight tremble of concern she thought she picked up in Markus’s voice. Maybe she’d imagined it.

  “How long has she been in there?” Susan said.

  “Two hours,” Markus said. “Ever since we got here.”

  Susan’s body was a highway of hope and despair. She clung to her phone. There was no positive reason someone would be in the toilet for two hours.

  “What do you mean?” Susan said.

  “I mean, she’s been in the bathroom for a long time,” Markus said, growing impatient. “We’re hungry.”

  “Have you tried knocking on the door?” Susan said.

  “Yes,” Markus said.

  Susan could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

  “She tells me to stay away, that she’ll be out soon,” Markus said.

  “What happened?” Susan said. “Did something happen on the way to the house?”

  “Yes,” Markus said. “How did you know?”

  Because this is the universe, and it’s full of my kind of luck, Susan wanted to say.

  “Just go on,” she said.

  “We were driving, when a man came running into the road,” Markus said. “Grandma thought he needed help, so she pulled over.”

  Susan shut her eyes. Behind her eyelids she could already see what’d happened. Rosario pulled over and the man approached. He was limping, a dark desperate look in his eye. Rosario, the kind Samaritan that she was, would wind down her window, ask him what was wrong, and…

  Rosario would scream, would beat at the man’s head, in an attempt to peel him off, but he would cling on tight, his teeth buried deep in her flesh.

  Rosario would hit the gas, unable to get him off her. As they pulled away, the man would take a chunk of Rosario’s flesh with him. Rosario would scream and clamp her hand over the mouth-shaped hole in her arm.

  The car would veer side to side. She would hold the wheel in a bloody grip, regaining control before she managed to get it straight again.

  She would pass close to unconsciousness until they reached their destination. The kids in the back would scream each time the car came dangerously close to the verge.

  They would arrive at the house. Rosario would struggle out of the car, and into the bathroom to clean herself up, bandaging her wound.

  Susan saw it all in gruesome detail, in more ways than the words her six-year-old narrator was capable of.

  “I need you to go knock on the bathroom door,” Susan said. “Can you do that?”

  “Grandma said it’s rude to knock on the bathroom door when you know someone’s in there,” Markus said.

  “You can blame me,” Susan said. “Go on. Tell your grandma Susan’s on the phone.”

  Markus didn’t seem very excited by the prospect. But Susan heard him approach the door and knock. He spoke in a soft voice.

  “Grandma?” he said.

  There was no answer, so he knocked again.

  “Grandma?” he said.

  Again, no reply.

  “She’s not answering,” Markus said into the phone.

  “You need to knock harder,” Susan said. “Please. This is really important.”

  Markus sighed, and then rapped with his knuckles, a loud sharp sound.

  “What?” Rosario’s voice said.

  “Someone’s on the phone for you,” Markus said.

  “I thought I told you never to disturb someone in the restroom?” Rosario’s voice said.

  “I know, and that’s what I told her,” Markus said.

  “Told who?” Rosario’s voice said. “If you think I’ll believe Amy spoke to you, you’re cruising for a tanned hide.”

  “She says her name is Susan and that it’s real important she speaks to you,” Markus said.

  There was a pause on the other end of the line.

  Please let him in, Susan prayed. If she doesn’t, they’re all doomed.

  There was the squeak of a door, and then a shuffling sound as the phone was handed over.

  “Susan?” Rosario said.

  Her voice was a tonic to Susan’s soul. It had the same calm, measured tones it always had. But now there was hurt and pain in it too.

  “How are you?” Susan said.

  “I’m fine,” Rosario said. “But a man took a bite out of me on the turnpike. He looked lost. I pulled over to help him, but he went all aggressive on me. That’ll teach me to try and help someone.”

  “Did you stop the bleeding?” Susan said.

  “Yes,” Rosario said. “Just about. I’m lucky you’ve got a whole pharmacy in your bathroom cabinet.”

  “How are you feeling?” Susan said.

  “Oh, you know me,” Rosario said. “Can’t complain.”

  “This is one of those times you really should complain,” Susan said.

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. The whole tone of the conversation shifted.

  “There was something wrong with the man, wasn’t there?” Rosario said. “I thought I saw something in his face… something evil… something that shouldn’t have been there.”

  Rosario’s ability to sniff out the underlying meaning had always amazed Susan. It was like she followed the subtext easier than anyone she had ever met. No subtext ever got past her.

  “Yes,” Susan said. “It’s not good news.”

  “When is it ever?” Rosario said. “Go on, then. Do your doctor thing. Predict the future. Tell me what’s going to happen to me.”

  The words didn’t come easily to Susan. She had to tell her friend she had a death sentence on her head.

  “As bad as all that?” Rosario said at the stark silence. “Well, I don’t suppose I should be surprised. The guy who bit me didn’t look all too clean.”

  “I can only tell you as much as we know right now,” Susan said. “You’ve been infected with a virus. It’s sweeping across the world right now. Maybe you got lucky. Maybe the guy who bit you wasn’t in the later stages, but those riots you see on TV aren’
t just any riots. They’re caused by this virus. We’re working on the cure now, but it will take some time. You will become violent, angry and dangerous. You will attack the kids.”

  “No,” Rosario said. “I would never do that.”

  “I know you wouldn’t,” Susan said. “But after you turn, you are not you anymore. You’ll become a monster.”

  “A monster?” Rosario said.

  “You’ll attack people just like that man attacked you,” Susan said. “He probably wouldn’t have hurt a fly in his right mind either, but this virus stops us acting in our right minds. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Rosario said. “I think I do.”

  “Rosario, listen to me,” Susan said. “I need you to do something. Stay in the bathroom and lock yourself in there.”

  “Lock myself in?” Rosario said. “What for?”

  “Because when you turn, you’re not going to be able to stop yourself from harming whoever is nearby,” Susan said.

  “Can I say goodbye to them first?” Rosario said.

  “Of course,” Susan said. “But you can’t kiss them on the lips. You can’t let them get infected.”

  “Okay,” Rosario said. “How long do I have?”

  “Up to eight hours from the moment of being infected,” Susan said. “That’s the best we can tell.”

  “All right,” Rosario said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll take myself out of the equation soon enough. Just let me spend a little more time with the children.”

  “Of course,” Susan said, her voice cracking.

  It wasn’t fair that someone so kind and good should have been bitten. But life wasn’t fair. She supposed that was why so many people clung to the tenets of religion, so that there would be some kind of justice in the end, in the afterlife. But there was no afterlife, no omnipotent force that equalized the scales of justice. Life was just not fair.

  “Do you want to speak to Amy?” Rosario said.

  Susan’s eyes shimmered with tears. It was then that she realized how much fear was pent up inside her.

  “Yes,” she said. “Please.”

  “Here she is,” Rosario said.

  “Amy?” Susan said. “Amy, it’s me. Mommy.”

  Amy grunted and squealed with delight.