by Gayle Katz
She quickly slid it into the microscope. “There,” she said, increasing the magnification. “That is the virus.”
Then she reached for the bottle of whiskey. Just as she did so, there was a banging on the door. She got up and pushed the curtain aside. “Dammit!”
There was zombie Colin outside her door. He must have remembered where he was staying and had managed to make it there.
She pretended there was no one home. She flicked the light switch so the lights turned out. Then she went back to the desk.
She picked up the whiskey bottle, and then unscrewed the cap. She used an eyedropper and removed a few drops from it.
“Oh, screw it,” she said, putting the bottle to her lips. She took a long drink of the alcohol, and then placed the bottle back on the desk. She put the cap back on, then grabbed the slide and carefully removed the top slide. She used the eyedropper and placed one drop on the slide, then put the top piece back.
The slide went back into the microscope.
“Wow,” she said in amazement. The alcohol had the effect of slowing the virus.
“It’s not entirely dead, but it’s not exactly thriving either. Hmm.” She looked at the bottle of alcohol.
This was as far as she’d managed to get in the past three years of studying the zombie virus. She had no idea how an old bottle of alcohol had the power to render the zombie virus inert, but it did. She quickly got up, grabbing the bottle of alcohol.
She removed the cap of the bottle, and then grabbed a funnel from her kit.
She went over to the door and opened it.
Colin the zombie stumbled in, arms reaching out for her so he could grab onto her and bite. She thrust an ottoman under his legs.
He tripped and fell. She smiled. He was on his back, on the ground.
She knelt down beside his body and stuck the funnel in his mouth. Then she poured. She stopped when the bottle was about half full. She didn’t want to waste it. She might need it for further experiments.
The zombie on the ground thrust out his arms and reached for her again. Then he spasmed for a minute, before calming down.
“How do you feel?” asked Adrienne.
“Sick,” he replied. “What happened? One minute I’d lost control of my mind, and the next, I can think again.”
“Well, first of all, you were attacked by a zombie on the train. Then somehow, you found your way back to me, which most likely saved your life.”
“Hey, that’s unbelievable. Then I will see my family again?”
“I think the booze is only a temporary measure,” she said. “I’ll give you more in a bit, but it’s only a short-term reprieve.” She got up to pour some of the liquor into a spare bottle she had.
“Understood,” he said. “I’ll hang around until my daughter passes, then kill myself.”
“Sorry,” said Adrienne. She handed him the bottle. “I suggest you leave now, because I don’t know how long until the effects wear off.”
“Is it OK if I take the van? Will you be all right?” he asked, grabbing his things from the drawer.
“Yep, I can take a train back. Well, as long as there are no zombies on it.” She laughed.
zzz
“OK, Maia, we’re the cops here, so just shoot them in the head.”
She followed Sergeant Bourne out of the unmarked police vehicle and to the location of the zombie sightings.
“Cool,” she said. “I see one in the distance.”
“OK, but let’s get closer. If we have stray bullets flying, you know someone is going to complain, then there will be an inquiry.”
“Got it,” she said, running up quickly to the two zombies in the distance. They were hovering over a senior man, eating him.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!” went the sound of the gun. She not only killed the two zombies, but the old man as well.
“Good one,” called out Bourne. “Soon you’ll be a corporal and teach others what you’ve learned.”
“I plan to be on the special zombie force that Mayor Cote is assembling,” she replied.
“Good, we need one in this city. OK, there is the train where the first zombie was sighted. You take the back. I’ll take the front.”
There was no sight of the driver or the passengers. The street was quiet. The people of Portland knew exactly what to do when a zombie was spotted.
Bourne hopped onto the train while Maia hopped onto the other end.
Bourne’s side of the train was empty. There were some purses and phones lying on the seats, probably from passengers too terrified of the zombies to take much care with their personal belongings.
He walked down the aisle. He saw movement in the distance.
“Anything?” he called out.
“There is a dead zombie at the back and some blood, but nothing else.”
“OK,” said Bourne. “That means there could still be zombies on the street. By now, my team should have the streets roped off.” He grabbed his radio and talked into it. “How far are the boundaries?” he asked.
“What did he say?” asked Maia.
“He said six blocks are roped off. That means a lot of ground to cover. Also, Stewart is here. He’s going down the eastern street, so we will cover north and south and meet in the middle.”
“Let’s do it,” said Maia, heading north, while Bourne headed south.
In the distance, he could see police vehicles blocking that end of the street. He saw eyes watching him from behind curtains and blinds of the businesses along the streets. Those people would be fine, as long as no zombies were hiding in there with them.
Ahead of him was a set of bushes. It was the perfect hiding spot for zombies. Bourne walked around the bushes to the back.
“Damn it,” he said, crying at the sight he saw.
Chapter 14
________________________________________
Maia had managed to clear the block. There were no zombies hiding on the north side of the street. She motioned for the cops to move the barriers down the block. If there were any zombies, they’d soon be boxed in. Then together, they could be killed.
“Hi, Stewart!” she called out to him. “We want you to go that way.”
“OK. That’s fine,” he said, heading in the direction she pointed.
zzz
Adrienne went back to her desk to do more testing. She carefully sterilized her slides to start again. She wrote notes so she’d have a record of what she was doing. She had her gloves on and was ready to go.
She picked up the blood and carefully squeezed some of it out of the syringe and onto the glass plate. Then she peered into the microscope.
“Dammit!” she cried. “The virus is already dead.”
Since a brain wasn’t keeping the zombie blood alive, the virus had quickly died.
“That was fast,” said Adrienne. “How am I to conduct tests at this rate?” She pulled her gloves off and tossed them into the trash.
Adrienne picked up her phone and placed a call.
“Hi, Sergeant Bourne? It’s me, Adrienne, from the FDA. Any luck in getting me a live zombie to test? It would be really helpful if they’re alive, so I can conduct my tests without worrying that the virus is going to suddenly drop dead. Great, thanks!”
She put her phone down. It sounded promising. Now all she had to do was wait.
zzz
Sergeant Bourne peered behind the bushes. It was a mother and child, both zombies. This was the day when he didn’t want to be a cop. The gunshot rang out. Then he pulled a plastic bag from his pocket.
Adrienne wanted a zombie. The young child was small enough that it wouldn’t try to run at him or bite him. He carefully picked the child up by the back of its jacket and deposited it into the plastic bag.
“Sorry, but you can save the world.” He poked a few holes in the bag, as he wasn’t certain if zombies needed air to breathe or not.
The mini zombie struggled inside the bag, but he quickly carried it away from his body, just in case it a
ttempted to bite him.
“Maia, how’s it going?”
“Good, Bourne. I managed to get three of them.” She put her gun away for a bit to look at the bag he held in his hands.
“Excellent. I see Stewart has arrived too. I’m going to go put this in the car and drive it to the FDA.”
Maia peered anxiously at the bag. There was something in it.
“It’s best not to ask,” said Sergeant Bourne. “Trust me.”
“OK,” she said.
Sergeant Bourne walked to where his car was parked, then put the zombie in the back seat of his car. It should be safe there. Even if it got out of the bag, there was no way it’d be able to make its way to the front of the vehicle, as there was the unbreakable plastic barrier there.
zzz
As Stewart walked the street, checking the shrubs and bushes for zombies, and seeing whether there was any activity at any of the businesses through the windows, he thought about the cold bug he and the rest of the teens had caught. He found it odd that they had all gotten sick, when none of the other students at the school were ill.
He didn’t worry that it was serious, but it was certainly odd. He would talk to Owen once he started feeling better. But this cold was odd. He felt sick, but didn’t seem to actually be sick.
He had a scratchy throat, and stuffed up nose, but when he went to blow it, nothing came out. He had no fever. He felt tired, but when he went to walk around, he had the energy to do it.
“Oh, almost forgot,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Whatever did zlayers do before they had cell phones?”
He clicked a button and it rang. “Oh. Hi, Julian. It’s me, Stewart. I was wondering if you’d changed your mind? The FDA really wants a sample of your blood. It would assist them in finding a vaccine for other zombies.”
“Sorry,” said Julian on the other end of the phone. “I can’t place my family in harm’s way.”
“Well, I could get the blood sample from you directly. There is no need for the FDA to show up on your doorstep.”
“I don’t see how I can help,” replied Julian. “It’s unlikely that my blood holds a cure to the zombie plague. Yes, I’ve lived longer than the others, but I am still dying.” He neglected to tell Stewart about the liquor elixir, but once that was all used up that fact would be pointless anyway.”
“OK, you’re probably right,” said Stewart. “The risks outweigh the benefits.”
“Yeah, sorry,” said Julian. “If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”
zzz
“I think that’s it, Sergeant Bourne,” said Maia over the phone. “We’ve swept all six streets. We got a total of seven zombies, which is about right for an outbreak like this.”
“Good,” said Sergeant Bourne, over the telephone. “I’m just on an errand. I’ll trust you to clean up. We’ll meet back at the station later.”
“OK,” she said, hanging up.
She walked proudly down the street. That had gone well. Her team knew exactly what to do to protect Portland.
She was so proud of herself that she didn’t see the face in the window of the boutique as she walked past. Its hands reached out for her, while its teeth chomped up and down. But it couldn’t reach her as it was stuck behind the glass window.
zzz
Stewart got the all clear from Maia, so he headed back home. Once he arrived, he sat down with his spell book. He flicked through the index, which had revealed itself to him recently. The only problem was that the index listed topics of which he had no idea what they were. Nor could he see some of them. Even though many of the pages were filled in now, there were still dozens of pages in the spell book that were still blank. The spell book revealed details to him as they were required. Perhaps there would be sections of the book that would never reveal themselves, as he and his team would never need that information.
Illness, he found on page 125. Stewart touched the page and translated out loud. “A zleader has the power to bestow sickness on their territory through a fog.”
Stewart peered outside. There was definitely still a fog hanging over the city. It was just that everyone was starting to get used to it. It wasn’t uncommon to have a fog over the city on a rainy day anyway.
“That’s interesting,” he commented. “But is there some way to fight off the sickness?” He kept on reading.
“A protective spell over the city can be done. Here’s how.” Stewart read through the list of ingredients and the procedures. “Yeah, I can do that,” he said.
zzz
Owen finally got out of bed. He didn’t feel better, but he didn’t feel worse, either. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he realized that this was deliberate. Someone had deliberately made the zlayers ill.
“Nice try, Dr. Arora,” he said. He grabbed his phone and quickly texted the others to let them know.
“On it,” Stewart texted back. “Expect a counter-spell in three, two, one.”
“OK, great. I want to feel better.” Owen put the phone down.
As he stood there, a green mist surrounded him. It smelled like peppermint and menthol. When the mist cleared, he coughed.
“Much better,” he said. His nose was still a bit stuffy, but likely the spell only killed off what virus had infected them, but wouldn’t heal them completely. It was up to their bodies to do that.
Owen’s phone rang. “Hey, thanks. I feel better.”
“Good,” said Sergeant Bourne. “Because Maia effed up and didn’t search the streets well enough. There are still zombies out there.”
“Cool,” said Owen. “Have you called the others?”
“Yep,” said Bourne.
zzz
Adrienne sorted through her kit. She had a large collection of various compounds, elements, and known antivirals available to her. But she had no idea where to start. She was getting frustrated.
She went over to her bed and collapsed on it. “Is this it?” she asked herself. “Maybe the boss was right. We should focus on things we can do, like measles, and not something fictitious, like zombie virus.”
Her phone rang. “Yeah?”
It was her boss.
“Yes, Colin went back home. I might as well tell the truth. He got infected with the zombie virus.” Then she listened to a stream of expletives.
“I know, but if we do nothing, then more people die.”
“Dammit, Adrienne!” yelled the voice on the other end of the phone. “If I didn’t believe you, you’d be fired!”
“I believe I should pursue this,” explained Adrienne. “If I don’t, Colin is going to die, and his little girl too. We’re all at risk here. It could be your family next.”
“I don’t like it,” said the boss. “But go ahead. Do what you have to do. Let me know if you need cash to finance your experiments.”
She laughed. “I need a zombie, but I might just get one soon.”
“Good, it’s imperative you keep it alive.” Her boss gave her a set of instructions so she could continue her experiments.
When Adrienne hung up the phone, she felt a lot more confident. Her boss was on her side after all.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard sounds outside her window.
zzz
Bourne pulled into the motel parking lot. There was a lot happening, but somehow he felt it was important that Adrienne had her test subject.
He reluctantly retrieved the package from the back seat. He carried the bag up to Adrienne’s motel door, but she was already there, beckoning him inside.
“What is that?” she asked, curious as to the contents of the bag.
“Your zombie,” he said. He carefully deposited it onto the bed.
“Oh my god,” she said. “No! We don’t experiment on children!”
“It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “It’s almost dead. And I can tell you, it’s really difficult trying to obtain an adult zombie without killing it first. So it’s either this or nothing. It’s up to you.”
Adrienne looked sadly at the package on the bed. It twisted and turned, trying to escape its plastic prison.
“I think I just want to cry.”
“I know. Sorry. Do what you do best.” He turned and left the room.
zzz
Charlie felt a million times better this afternoon. Stewart had told her she’d not only been infected with a virus, but a spell as well. But now that he’d performed his magic, she felt much better.
She looked in the mirror. Without Stewart, the team wouldn’t have been able to function as well as it did. She remembered when she’d been in Texas, before they’d moved, and no longer wanted to have anything to do with zombies.
She and Gran had moved to Portland to get away from the craziness. And then, her teacher, Stewart George, had followed her there.
She’d been furious. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with zombie slaying any more, even though Portland now had an outbreak.
But then she had come around, as this was what she had to do. She even wanted to be a cop now and help people. She also knew Owen was joining the police academy with her, next September, after graduation. She knew Zan was going to medical school.
It was her last year of high school. She had certainly changed. She had more confidence in her physical abilities. She didn’t want to watch TV or read books all day now, perhaps just part of the day, or the weekends.
“Charlie! Your friends are here!” called Gran up the stairs.
“OK, thanks,” she said, grabbing her small backpack and her daggers.
