"Passed one a couple of miles north of here," Alfred replied. "I think we can find our way back to it."
"Just go in and ask for Colonel Halstead," Sergeant Morris ordered. "He'll get you fixed up with something to eat, maybe some medical attention if any of your people need it."
With a nod, Alfred offered, "Much obliged, Sergeant. We'll see you there."
When he turned to walk back to his motor home, Zoe gave Tex a disapproving look and hissed, "He shouldn't call people that."
Tex patted her shoulder and advised, "Just let it go for now, Princess. Let's finish our sweep of the mall."
They turned and walked side by side toward the entrance, and Zoe looked down at her bare shoulder, her torn shirt. "I just got this," she complained. "I only had it for a half hour and that stupid zombie tore it!"
Raising his brow, he looked down to her and suggested, "I'm sure there's another one in there, Princess."
"Then that's where I want to go first," she insisted.
As they neared the door, she looked over her shoulder at the zombie that lay dead, the zombie that had attacked her. Fear took her eyes, a familiar terror that she had felt when this whole thing had started and she cringed and turned abruptly away, cuddling into Sergeant Morris as best she could as they walked.
Zoe strode to her neatly made bed and laid down the stack of folded shirts. Five in number, three of them were pink, one yellow and one black. On top of them were folded denim shorts, another pair of shoes and a pink cap she had found in the same store. With a glance at her teddy bear, which sat on the pillow and leaned back against the wall at the head of the bed, she unbuckled her vest and slipped out of it, folded it in half and laid it down beside the clothes she had. Next, she pulled out her revolver, looked to the night stand and pulled the drawer open, laying the weapon gently inside on top of the bible there.
When Doctor Caswell walked into the room, she paused and just stared down into the drawer for long seconds before she slowly pushed it shut.
"I heard you had a big day out there," the Doctor said.
Drawing a deep breath, Zoe just nodded.
With a lean of her head, Rachel asked, "Do you need to talk?"
Slowly, the zombie girl shook her head.
"I see," Doctor Caswell said softly, turning her eyes to the floor. "I've always heard that when you kill someone for the first time, that image never really goes away."
"I didn't kill anyone," Zoe corrected as she ran her fingers over the edge of the night stand. "It was a zombie. It was a thing and it wasn't really alive anymore."
"Sounds like you're coping okay," Rachel observed.
"I had my pills this morning if that's what you're getting at," Zoe said through clenched teeth. "And then that other kid didn't know to shoot them in the head. He kept shooting that one in the chest and I told him that won't work. You have to shoot them in the head."
"Is that what's bothering you?" the doctor asked. The girl's long silence spoke volumes. Venting a deep breath through her nose, she observed, "You seem really preoccupied since you came back, and I know that today was the first time you ever shot anything."
"It isn't that," Zoe assured in a slight voice.
With slow steps, Rachel approached the girl and grasped her shoulders, not letting go even as the girl cringed. "Talk to me, Zoe. I want to help you if you'll let me."
"You'll get tired of me," Zoe said softly. "Everybody does. As soon as I'm not needed for anything anymore then you'll get tired of me and you'll want me to go away. You and William and Colonel Halstead and everybody won't want me anymore. Now that I'm a zombie everyone wants to kill me or…"
"I know for a fact that everyone here really likes you," the doctor insisted. "Even if you didn't go out to scout for them, they'd like you all the same. I know Tex really does, and I know I do." She turned the girl gently to her and grasped her face in her hands. "The world is in turmoil right now and, believe it or not, you are the only sense of normal we have."
Zoe slowly raised her brow and whispered, "I'm a zombie girl with Asperger's Syndrome. How is that even close to normal?"
With a smile, Rachel combed her fingers through the girl's hair and assured, "It just is." She kissed Zoe's forehead and turned to leave, only making it halfway before she turned back. "Would you be okay with staying here tomorrow?"
"More tests?" the girl asked, grimly.
"Some," Doctor Caswell confirmed, "but mostly I think you need a little time away from the guys, and I need some girl time with someone."
A little smile curled Zoe's mouth and she nodded.
CHAPTER 8
Food was taken to the conference room where the next meeting promised to be a long one. With Colonel Halstead sitting in his place and looking over reports one more time, his forehead resting in the fingers of one hand, Sergeant Morris, who had taken time to get showered and changed into fresh black commando trousers and a white tee shirt, dropped his papers on the table a few seats down and settled into his chair. He was clearly near exhaustion and leaned over the table to rub his eyes. Also joining them was Alfred Knox, who had also taken some time to freshen up and changed into fresh camouflage and a clean shirt, and he sat next to Sergeant Morris. The doctors sat on the opposite side with the Captain and Lieutenant.
Silence overtook the room.
Colonel Halstead looked up from his reports, scanning the people at the table, and his attention fixed on Sergeant Morris and Alfred. Folding his hands on the table, he set his jaw and announced, "I've sent for Private Princess and she should be here in a few minutes. I understand you two have some bad news for me, something about a new moaner for us to worry about."
Alfred raised his brow and said, "You must be talkin' about the mad-dogs out there. Yes, Sir, they're bad news. They ain't like the others."
Doctor Kavorski sifted through his papers and pulled one from the middle, looking down on it as he confirmed, "A zombie that is more of an active hunter, something of a wild animal."
"We had one attack Zoe," Tex reported. "I've never even heard of moaners attacking each other."
Looking to him, Alfred growled, "I've seen them things attack anything that moves, including other zombies. They don't eat them, but they sure mess 'em up." His eyes slid to Doctor Kavorski. "You sure don't want to be on the receiving end of one of those. You can outrun one of the others and even fight 'em off, but these mad-dogs come at you like they got rabies. They won't walk at you; they charge like a dog."
Kavorski slouched in his chair slightly, staring at the bearded fellow across from him with blank eyes. With a glance at Colonel Halstead, then Sergeant Morris, he drew a breath and said, "We're going to need one to study."
"Good luck with that," Alfred laughed. "Your best bet is to kill every one you see and leave 'em lay. You don't want to try to make pets out of 'em."
"We need to know more about them," Doctor Caswell informed. "If this is some new threat then we have to know what we're dealing with and how to deal with them."
"I'll tell you how to deal with 'em," Alfred said. "You hit 'em with a shotgun 'till they don't get back up. That's how you deal with 'em."
"How many of these have you seen?" the Captain asked.
"Four," Knox replied. "Last one was yesterday attacking your little zombie girl. My boy put 'im down."
"Four?" Captain Langley asked, leaning toward the hefty man. "Moaners tend to run in packs or large mobs most of the time."
"The mad-dogs sure don't," Alfred corrected. "Only one's we've seen were loners. They keep to themselves and don't have nobody around them, other zombies or nobody. Seen 'em attack dogs, too. They see it move, they're going after it."