Dressed in hospital scrubs again, Zoe lay in the middle of her bed, curled up on her side and facing the window. She hugged her teddy bear to her and just stared at the window with blank eyes that had cried all they could. Those around her were sure not to disturb her and she was left alone for most of the remaining day.
Sometime after noon her door finally, slowly opened and Rachel peered in, just watching the girl for a moment before she entered. Padding to her with gentle steps, the Doctor sat on the edge of the bed and slowly stroked the girl's hair. She did not know what to say, though she had thought about it for hours, and she knew there was no way the girl could be consoled.
So, she just sat there and stroked the girl's hair, just to offer her a little comfort.
A little while later, Zoe finally spoke, just over a whisper. "I hate those stupid zombies."
With a nod, Rachel assured, "You have every right to, Sweetie. You have every right to."
"Why do I have to be one of them?" the girl whined in a child's voice.
"You aren't one of them," Rachel corrected. "You may look a little like them, but you are still one of us."
"I've always been different," Zoe said with only a wisp of a voice. "I just always wanted to be like everyone else, but now I'm even more different than everyone."
"You're still a sweet, delightful girl, Zoe, and we're all glad you're here with us."
Zoe drew a deep breath and nodded slightly, then she informed, "You'll get tired of me. Everybody does."
"No, I won't. I can't imagine anybody getting tired of you."
"Everybody does," Zoe whispered.
The door closed and Doctor Caswell looked to see Colonel Halstead standing right inside the room with his arms folded. His eyes were on the zombie girl as he said, "Doctor, you're needed in the O.R." His eyes shifted to her and he added, "Right away."
Rachel loosed a hard breath, then she looked down to the girl and stroked her head once more, asking, "Do you need anything, Sweetie?" When Zoe shook her head, she assured, "I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"
"Okay," the girl responded in a whisper.
The Doctor slid from the bed and made her way slowly to the door, pausing at the Colonel's side before she looked back to the girl one more time.
Colonel Halstead waited for the door to close behind the Doctor, then he strode with purposeful steps to the window across the room. He swept the curtain aside, opened the blind, then folded his hands behind him as he stared outside. A breath growled out of him and he shook his head. "If you're going to try to make sense of all this, don't. There's no way you can. There's no way any of us can. We're stuck with what we have, and what we have is a war for survival." He shook his head. "I read the report on your folks, Princess, and I'm sorry. We've all lost family and friends, and unfortunately we just don't have the luxury of taking time to mourn." When he turned to her, he found her staring up at him. "My whole family's gone, now the only family I have is the people in this facility. I'm responsible for every damn one of you, every soul in this base, and I'm also responsible for making sure we win this war on a local level. I do not intend to let those we've lost go unavenged and it is my intention to take this war to our enemy. You know who our enemy is?"
She nodded in slight motions and pitifully replied, "Me."
His brow shot up. "You?" he barked in a loud voice. "You think you're the enemy here? You'd better get your head on straight, little girl."
"But I'm a zombie," she whined.
"I don't see it!" he yelled. "I see someone we've taken in here. I see someone who has gone out to help us win this war we have to wage against an enemy that has no remorse, no honor and will not stop until we are all extinct. Now, do you intend to keep on helping us or are you going to lay there like some worthless, non-fighting hippie who expects to be given an easy living at the expense of the rest of us?"
Zoe looked away and considered.
Colonel Halstead raised his chin and barked, "Are you part of my family or not?"
Pushing herself up, Zoe held the teddy bear to her and slid from the bed, and she stood as straight and tall as she could as she replied, "Yes, Sir."
"I can't hear you!" he shouted.
She shouted back, "Yes, Sir!"
"Outstanding!" he yelled. "You know where the rally area is downstairs?" When she nodded he barked, "Sound off, young lady!"
"Yes, Sir!" she yelled.
"Be down there in fifteen minutes. We are going to equip you properly, then you are going to learn how to execute this war upon your enemy with great prejudice. You will be instructed in the art of combat, stealth, and you will learn to be a little killing machine, unleashing a hellish wrath upon your enemy that they will have no answer for. Does this turn you on?"
She raised her chin, a sense of pride and importance welling up inside of her and she replied in a loud voice, "Yes, Sir!"
"At the rally point in fifteen minutes, soldier!" He squinted slightly and looked to the sides of her head. "And do something with that hair! You will report fully regulation and ready to unleash a vengeful fury upon your enemy and by God you will make them regret the day they killed your family!"
"Yes, Sir," she repeated.
The Colonel stormed past her, toward the door as he commanded, "Carry on, Private."
Zoe reported early, her hair pulled up in a pony tail. She had traded her scrubs for her shorts and a white tee shirt that fit her too big, and her pink running shoes and stormed from the elevator with a sense of purpose she had never felt before. Stopping among the soldiers who were cleaning weapons and checking other gear, she looked around her and finally saw a familiar face, a private who she had been on the last mission with. Approaching him from behind, she tapped him on the shoulder and asked, "Have you seen Colonel Halstead?"
He looked her up and down and replied, "Uh, no, I haven't seen him."
She nodded and turned away, looking for him again. Approaching Sergeant Morris' driver on the last mission, she folded her hands behind her and inquired, "What'cha doing?"
He glanced at her and smiled, then looked to the disassembled weapon he had laid out on the table and picked a piece up with the dirty rag he had. "I'm cleaning up Ma Deuce. She fires a lot better when she's clean."
"Ma Deuce?"
"M-2 heavy machine gun," he explained. "Fifty caliber. It'll stop just about anything short of a main battle tank. Works wonders on moaners."
Zoe nodded, looking to the pieces and parts, and asked, "Can I help?"
"Sure thing, Princess," he answered. "Right there is the solvent we use to remove powder residue, dirt and gack from the parts. Just wet one of those rags and start wiping something down. Gotta get her all nice and clean!"
With another nod, Zoe picked up an important looking part, took a rag and went to work.
"You look like you've done that before," he commended.
She smiled at him and kept working.
A few minutes later, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked to the elevator as Colonel Halstead yelled, "Where's my zombie girl?"
Still holding the piece she had been cleaning, Zoe spun around and announced, "Here!"
He strode right up to her, looked to the machine gun part in her hands and nodded. "I see you're jumping right into the middle of things. I like that."
"I'm good at this," she informed.
"Yes you are," he confirmed. Looking around him, he loudly said, "Okay people, listen up! We have a new recruit signing up and we need witnesses." Looking back to her, he raised his chin and folded his hands behind him, ordering, "Put that down and raise your right hand."
She complied, setting the rag and part down on the table behind her and raising her hand.