The body had been torn apart and eaten almost completely, down to the skeleton. The clothing he had worn was shredded, ripped apart by teeth and claw-like hands.
Zoe drew in breaths that shrieked and she backed away a few more steps, shaking her head as she tried to reason out what it was she saw. Slowly shaking her head, she nearly lost her grip on her weapon, and when she backed into someone, she stopped and finally turned away, burying her face in his chest.
Slowly, Zachary slipped his free arm around her, his eyes still on the horror that lay before them.
"Okay, people," one of the soldiers announced. "We knew we were going to see this. Come on. We've still got a job to do and we have a lot of people counting on us." He grasped Zoe's shoulder and asked, "You still with us, Princess?"
Hesitantly, she nodded.
The woman had crouched down near the body, and slowly she stood with something in her hand, and she breathed, "Oh my God!"
Zoe slowly pulled away from Zachary and turned around.
The woman, the only female soldier, was staring down at the hat she held. Slowly, she looked to the other three, her mouth ajar and horror in her eyes as she offered the other soldier the hat.
He took the hat with a hesitant hand and looked down at it, then inside it, and his face went ashen as he slowly drew his head back. Venting a shallow breath through his mouth, he looked to Zoe with hollow, haunted eyes.
Her mouth curled downward and tears filled her eyes as she slowly shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Princess," he offered in a slight voice.
She turned her gaze down to the hat and her hand shook as she reached to it and grasped it tightly. Inside the hat there was a label sewn in at the back with the owner's name hand written in permanent marker: W. Morris.
Tears streamed from her eyes as she just stared at the name, and all she could muster was a whisper. "It isn't fair."
"They aren't going to get away with this," Zachary snarled.
"Come on, guys," the soldier behind them ordered. "Let's finish our sweep and see if we can find survivors." He looked over to the panel. "Private Higgins. Cover the engineer and make sure they can restore power, and give a shout if you see any moaners."
Higgins patted her M-4 and assured, "You'll hear this shout for me."
Zoe's expression went blank as she stared down at the hat, then her jaw clenched, her brow tensed and her lip curled up. Absently, she handed her rifle back to Zachary, and when he took it from her, she took the brim of the hat in her other hand, and slowly raised it to her head. Settling it over her hair, she pulled it down, settled it into place, then she turned and took her rifle, fixing her eyes on it.
Zachary stared down at her for long seconds, and he finally asked, "You okay, Zoe?"
She did not respond at first, but finally she nodded, not taking her eyes from the M-4 she held. Finally, she looked up at him, and it was clear that she was barely able to maintain her composure. It was also clear that something had changed in her disposition, and what it was silently spoke volumes.
It was payback time.
They continued their sweep of the generator room, but this time Zoe did not walk so carefully. Her steps were heavier and more deliberate, her eyes more focused.
Shining her light ahead of her, she saw a steel door that looked like it led into an office or a store room. It was painted tan and it appeared to have been clawed at by many hands, and much of the paint had been scraped away in the middle.
A familiar shuffle drew her attention and she looked left in response to it, focusing her light that way, and her eyes narrowed as she saw the zombie in the blue mechanic's shirt staring back at her from only about ten feet away. The front of his shirt was stained black and dark red, as were the sides of his mouth, his chin and throat. This one had fed on someone, and with much of the blood still glossy, it was still wet. He had fed recently.
Zoe's brow lowered further, her lip curling up as she stared back. Seeing the zombie and knowing what had happened to Sergeant Morris enraged her beyond her medication's ability to control her anger. Her mouth swung open and she yelled—and pulled the trigger on her weapon. Bullets ripped through the zombie's body, chest, shoulders… He staggered backward and as three rounds drove through his face and exploded out the back of his head he fell straight to his back. She did not stop firing until her magazine was empty, and for long seconds just stared down at the riddled body before her.
Other lights found their way to it, peering through the smoke her weapon had belched out, and the other three approached slowly from behind.
The magazine of Zoe's rifle hit the concrete floor with a loud, metallic clack and she reached behind her for another, her eyes still on the zombie she had just killed.
One of the soldiers behind her assured, "I think you got him."
"Okay," one of the men at the control panel announced. "I've switched over to natural gas. The boiler's heating up and the generator should restart in a few minutes."
A moment passed and everyone waited silently.
The generator clicked loudly, then there was something of a scrape from within it. It began to turn with a loud whine, faster and faster until its mechanical whines became a steady hum. The lights flickered, then slowly they began to come back on, one by one, and in another half a moment the entire room was illuminated.
Looking around them with wide eyes, the team finally realized that every shadow and every open doorway, every gap between panels, everywhere there were zombies staring at them. Each team member turned a full circle, seeing that they were surrounded, and weapons were held ready as the zombies began to lumber forward.
"Okay," the soldier beside Zoe started. "I think we could really have done without the lights."
Zoe reached behind her and took another magazine from her back pocket, and as she slapped it into her weapon, she suggested, "Maybe you guys should find a safe place to shoot from. I'm going to see if I can find the other guys." Without waiting for anyone to respond to her, she pulled back the bolt on her M-4 and let it slam back into place with a loud clack, then she turned and strode right at a group of seven zombies that was advancing. As expected, they largely ignored her, but they appeared to be moving differently, more deliberately and their steps were less clumsy. She barely took a mental note when she raised her weapon to the closest one, about twenty feet away, and took careful aim. Pulling the trigger once, she sent her round perfectly into his forehead, and he fell just as she expected. Stopping her advance to steady her aim, she fired again and another fell, then another, and another. Her sixth shot missed, but her seventh connected. Turning to her right, she fired on others as they emerged from an open room, dropping three of them before they could make much progress toward their quarry.
All knew that ammunition would be an issue and everyone took careful aim. Each shot had to count, and nearly every one did.
The door that had been scratched up clicked and it was pushed open, and Zoe found her aim going that way, but she lowered her weapon as she saw four soldiers and Zachary's father emerge and assume defensive positions around the door, and they all took aim at the zombies that were advancing on the rescue team.
With this part of the fight under control, Zoe turned and trotted around the big generator to find other zombies that were not being fired on already, and she would not be disappointed.
Another door across the room led into a dark hallway and more were emerging. They were about fifty feet away, but Zoe wanted to be nice and close to them so she raised her weapon to her eye and advanced with steady steps, and at about fifteen feet she began to shoot. One after another fell and they seemed oblivious as to why. When her weapon made an empty click and her bolt locked open, she dropped the spent magazine and reached around her back for another, slapping it in place in a couple of seconds and releasing the bolt to allow it to slam back into place and chamber her next round.