“Can’t be too sure,” Steve said. Beads of sweat seeped from his pores. The shotgun trembled in his clutches violently, his trigger finger twitching spastically. Josh feared the man’s sense of control, his misunderstanding of what was going on around him. The man in the shit-brown uniform and yellow patches that stated WILDLIFE PARK RANGER glared at Josh suspiciously. Perspiration ran from under the brim of his cream-colored campaign hat, down his cheeks. Mouth twitched, eyes narrowed. RANGER STEVE, as it read on his name tag, shook his head slowly. “We can’t be sure of a single thing, Victoria.”
“Christ,” she muttered, holding her daughter closely.
“Christ will help us, Vicky,” the older woman informed her, placing her wrinkly hand on her shoulder. “We should pray.”
Josh thought she was joking. He almost laughed. But as she closed her eyes and started humming a familiar hymn, he realized she was serious. She started reciting the words to “Our Father” under her breath, expecting the others to join in.
No one did.
“There’s someone else. Outside,” another young woman said from the far side of the recreation center, after the woman finished praying.
“Brittany!” Victoria yelled. “What did I tell you about standing close to the window? One of them might see—”
“Relax, Mother.” Brittany trudged across the room, joining the others. “Those things are gone…”
“You don’t know that, Brit.”
Brittany glanced down at her sister. “How you holding up, Emily?”
Emily shook her head, her eyes welling. Brittany squeezed her chin lightly, the way her father used to, while shooting her mother a scornful gaze. Victoria stared back. Her look was more intimidating, clearly having more practice.
“Look,” Josh said. “I’d really appreciate it if you got that gun out of my face, chief. I’m not a fucking zombie.” He noticed the praying woman curled her lips when he cussed.
Ranger Steve held the gun level with Josh’s face. Slightly turning his head away from the barrel, Josh expected the thunderous boom that would end his life. At this point, he knew the Ranger wasn’t going to intentionally kill him—if he had wanted to, he would have done so already.
Seconds passed. Josh wondered how long before his head looked like a pumpkin smashed against the sidewalk. Gunpowder traveled into his nose, turning his stomach.
“Dammit,” Ranger Steve muttered, finally lowering his weapon.
Josh sighed deeply. He crouched, relieved that his head was still attached to his neck. He was a little peeved it had taken the man so long to realize he wasn’t a flesh-crazed maniac, but he was thankful to still be breathing.
“You really need to work on your manners, Ranger Steve,” Josh said.
“I’m sorry,” Ranger Steve replied. “I really am. I just thought that you were one of those…”
“I believe zombies is the word you were looking for.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the religious woman jeered. “They’re just… crazy people. High on bath salts, probably. Seen it on the news. Zombies aren’t real, kid.”
“Hey, whatever you say, lady.”
Ben had finished draining gas from the Jeep through a garden hose he found around the side of the building. It was too long so Ben used the pocket knife he found in the Jeep to cut it appropriately. After he finished transferring the gas from the other vehicles to his own, he raided them for food and supplies. Besides finding the pocket knife, Ben found some bottles of warm water, moldy sandwiches, some warm yogurt, useless camping effects, and a tire iron, which would be handy if things got hairy. A fucking tire iron. It was better than nothing. He hated thinking that in order to survive this new world and give himself a chance at finding his son, he was going to have to kill a few of those things, something he wasn’t sure he was capable of. You’ll do it if you want to see Jakey again, won’t you? Yes, he supposed he would. Besides, killing something that’s already dead really wasn’t murder, was it? They’re only dead because they were killed by another one of those things. Shouldn’t really be dead, should they? No, he guessed they shouldn’t. But they were dead. Weren’t they? There’s nothing human about them, not anymore. Right?
Ben started thinking if the zombies could feel anything. Pain. Sadness. Pleasure. Anguish. Did they have thoughts? Able to rationalize? Or did they only have the never-ending motor that ran on the consumption of human meat? He didn’t know, although he suspected the latter. His mind reverted to the woman he awoke to earlier that morning, the one mindlessly smashing her hand against the windshield. There was nothing behind her eyes, no signs of humanity lingering within. She was just a zombie, going through the motions, fueled by the hunger. That’s it. Nothing more.
It was just like the movies.
Only, was it? He began stocking the Hyundai with the loot he had found, thinking about how the zombie virus worked and how similar it was to the movies he had once forced himself to watch. Is it passed through bites and scratches? Can animals be infected? How long does it take to turn into one of them? These were the questions lurking in his mind, anxiously awaiting answers.
In that moment, something changed. A breeze blew through the clearing, moving trees like flames at a rock concert. The leaves whistled to him from above. Ben looked around, sniffing the air, trying to put his finger on the smell. It didn’t take long to decipher what it was. He smelled it at the Yoland’s house the day before. It wasn’t as strong as it was then, but Ben knew exactly what it was. It was an odor Ben would never forget.
It was the smell of the dead heading toward him.
“How long have you guys been here?” Josh asked. Victoria had just finished making a sling for his arm out of some unused tee-shirts that belonged to the recreation center. She had done a good job, too. Josh thought she might have been the camp’s nurse.
“Two days,” Ranger Steve said. “I was out there—with the Girl Scouts. Ranger Rick and I were showing them how to tie knots down by the lake when…” He stopped. The man was covered in sweat, his uniform drenched. Tears found the corners of his eyes, his lips trembled softly. For a second, Josh thought the man had reached his limit. However, he composed himself and continued. “They came out of the woods. Tons of them. Too many to count. Everyone ran. It was chaos. They started attacking the girls. Ripping them to shreds like they were made of construction paper. The chaperons tried to stop them, but… it was useless. They were taken too. Ranger Rick tried to be a hero. Got jumped by three of those fuc—” Stopping himself, he caught the cold gaze of the snooty religious woman. “Got jumped by three of them. They wrestled him to the ground. Ate him.” Ranger Steve wiped a thick layer of sweat from his forehead. “Sorry, darling,” he said to Emily.
She buried her head in Victoria’s midsection.
“It’s okay, Emily,” her mother said calmly. Josh could tell she was trying to keep it together for the sake of the kid. “We’re going to be okay.” Josh noticed red speckles on Emily’s uniform. She had been at the massacre near the lake. He could see it in her eyes. The poor child had seen some terrible shit happen, horrors that would forever warp her innocent mind.