Zero Questions

When the light from the fire dies, they will attack.

At night, we burn whatever we can find. Sometimes it’s an oily wooden palette and it goes up like a house. Tonight, it’s some big branches. Oak or maple or something. We were all too tired, cold and hungry to chop down a tree, so we cut off the lowest branches and fed them to our campfire.

The fire dries the leaves and they snap off and float away, borne by gusts of heat. Sometimes they ignite and I watch them turn from leaf to ash in mid-air, burning like paper, the spreading red glow propelling them higher even as it consumes them.

Thirty minutes. Maybe an hour. Then the monsters will come crawling, staggering, running out of the dark.

Does it offend you, to hear your best friend called that? Your children? Your wife? I had friends and a wife, too. And they became monsters and someone else put them down. So I will put yours down without batting an eye.

We don’t call them zombies. Too Hollywood. Movies give people bad ideas. In the first days of the outbreak, you had guys trying to make only head shots, because that’s what the lore had told them. Do you know how hard it is for untrained people to make a head shot on a running target? Those untrained people are dead now, or they became monsters. Military guys called them Zulus for awhile, based on the old NATO alphabet code, but too many African-Europeans complained. So now we call them Zeroes.

“Drink,” someone said behind me. It was a command, not an offer.

I turned. Doc stood there, booze flask in one hand, joint in the other. Handed me the flask. I shook my head and handed it back.

“Drink,” he repeated. “Four out of five doctors recommend that you have a snort before going into battle. And the fifth doctor is dead.” He took a hit off the joint. The cherry of the spliff gave his boyish face an infernal glow.

“We need to keep our heads straight,” I said.

“Vikings used to get ripped on mead before fighting. For them, there was only drinking and fighting and making love.” His voice was strained as he talked while holding the smoke in his lungs.

“Well, don’t look at me, man,” I said, and Doc barked a laugh, the smoke rolling out of him. I flinched at the sickly sweet aroma but returned his grin.

“What the Hell,” I said, reaching for the booze. “Probably die tonight anyway.”

The Scotch went down easy. Medium-bodied, with a lingering, smoky aftertaste. A golden glow spread from the middle of my chest to every part of my body. Doc saw me enjoying it and beamed with pride. “Nice, huh?”

“Doc, you’ve been holding out on us.”

“Been saving it.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Like you said. We’ll probably die tonight.”

I didn’t want to admit that he could be right. Father Kim had reported more than five hundred Zeroes in the next valley. They know we’re here. They’ve been following us for days. What they don’t know is how many of us there are. If they knew it was just three…

We’ll smell them before anything else. Zeroes stink. They eat flesh, they have working digestive systems, but they’ve forgotten how to pull their pants down or wipe, which means they’re running around with full loads in their underwear. A crowd of Zeroes reeks like a daycare center dumpster in July.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get to New Haven?” Doc asked.

“Find a girl,” I said, but I didn’t mean it. Tracy was still in my thoughts all of the time. Sometimes I thought I saw her walking next to me, and it scared me that I was losing my mind. But I knew it was the answer that Doc expected.

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” he said. “All this death is making every girl flush.”

“I’m not looking for some bar floozy. Have to start replacing the population. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“Don’t know. I kind of like having fewer people around.”

“You can’t mean that,” I said.

“I’m not saying I’m glad people are dead. I just think the peace and quiet is nice.”

“We’re being out-produced.”

“Their numbers will go down. Once they’ve eaten all the deer and cows and all the people are either turned or behind walls, they’ll starve to death,” Doc said.

“Unless they can mate,” I said.

“Unsubstantiated rumors,” he sniffed.

“They eat and sleep, why can’t they screw?”

“Next you’ll be telling me that they’ve got guns. Zeroes are the least of our problems. The nuclear power plants—did they get shut off before the outbreak hit? Canned food’s gonna run out soon, then what? You’re going to have to prove to your future wife that you’re more than just a Zero killer. You need to show that you can provide. Unless you join the priesthood…isn’t that right, Father?”

Father Kim walked into the firelight, fresh from another scouting mission. The Korean was younger than either of us but had a solemnity and dignity that made him seem our senior.

“What’s the report?” I asked.

The priest shook his head. “At least another hundred have joined them.”

We silently considered this. Then Doc brightened. “We were just discussing Smitty’s next career move. You have any positions open?”

“Business is booming,” he admitted. “But the checks have stopped coming from the diocese. People want to confess, but they aren’t eager to share their food for it.”

“You earn your keep, Padre. Even if you won’t kill a Zero.”

“What do people have to confess?” I ask, before realizing he couldn’t tell me.

“Not everyone feels the same about taking a life,” the priest said.

“Zero Lives Matter,” Doc quipped.

“You make jokes, but there are a growing number of people who feel that way,” Kim said.

“Are you one of them?” Doc asked. “A Zero lover?”

“My job is to love everyone with a soul. The Holy See has not yet decided if they do, in fact, do have souls. Perhaps God’s mercy can be extended even to the undead. What if we can reform them?”

“Someone needs to speak for those who can only speak in grunts, is that it?” I chimed in. The Scotch was making me wittier, I thought, or maybe it was second-hand smoke from Doc’s doobie.

“What are we going to do? Give them their own nation and expect they’ll stay there?” Doc laughed.

“There’s that group that put them to work tuning the wheels of a mill,” I pointed out.

“You mean slavery? That’s worse than killing them, isn’t it? They don’t even have a say in the matter. That sounds a bit like Hell on Earth,” said Doc. “Killing them is mercy.”

“So what would you do if you were bitten?” the priest asked.

Doc opened his coat and showed us a pistol in a shoulder holster.

“One bullet left. I’ve been saving that too,” he said.

“What if it was one of us?” I asked.

“Someone gets bit, you put them down instantly. No debates.”

“Christ told us to take care of the sick. He didn’t say to murder them,” Kim said.

“Bit people are still good for killing Zeroes,” I offered.

Doc shook his head. “Their loyalties are divided. You don’t know when they’re going to turn on you.”

“They’re still partly human until they do,” the priest said.

“No such thing as a part Zero,” the doctor said firmly. “That’s like being partly pregnant. You is or you ain’t, as my Grandpa used to say.”

“Would God forgive someone for killing a man who was bit, if that man hadn’t turned yet?” I asked.

“The question isn’t if God would forgive, the question is if you’re planning it or not. It’s the premeditation that makes a thing what it is. It sounds like you’re looking for permission for something.” said Kim.

“If one of those things gets me, you’ve got my permission,” Doc said.

“I wonder what kind of man you’ve become, doctor,” the priest said. “One who wants to end life instead of saving it.”

“In medical school, they weed out anyone who cares about people too much, because they burn out. You have to see the human body as a thing, a series of systems that you put back in to order. If you see patients as people, it takes away your focus. Your mind has to be sharp as a scalpel. When I look at a Zero, I see a system that’s wrecked beyond repair.”

“I heard they’re working on a cure in New Haven,” I said. “They’re close to a breakthrough.”

“I’ve got a guaranteed cure. An arrow through the eye. The padre here can pray for their souls all he wants to. He can forgive them while they eat his face.”

“That’s uncalled for,” said Kim. There’s no need to mock. I only caution you against taking such pleasure in killing.”

“I’m doing my job. You get to stand guard while we sleep and cook the food and you don’t have to get your hands dirty. So don’t tell me how to do my job.” He turned and walked away.

“You sure have a way with people, Father,” I said.

“The good doctor doesn’t realize that surgery for the soul sometimes requires a sharp cut to the pride,” he answered. “We all have our burdens.”

I kept silent, looking at the fire. The leaves burned like the pages of history.

The priest regarded me. “You look tired,” he said. “I noticed that you didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Couldn’t.”

“Something troubling you?”

I snorted.

“I mean something new.”

Shaking my head, I looked out at the dark horizon.

“Whatever it is, I’m willing to listen,” said Kim.

“Some things you can’t undo,” I said.

“No evil ever devised by man or devil is bigger than God’s mercy. His grace—”

I held up my hand. “Listen. Do you hear something?”

We both paused. A soft rustle in the grass. A whisper that floated in from the darkness. Then another. Then more. It was all around us. My hand went to my bow. Then, I felt wetness on my forehead.

“It’s raining.” I gritted my teeth. Of all the things that could’ve happened right then, rain was among the worst. The fire was already hissing as drops pattered into it. The rain would cover both the noise and odor of the Zeroes’ approach.

A figure appeared in the gloom, moving fast.

I unslung my bow and knocked an arrow. Nearly shot Doc before I realized it was him.

“We have to run,” he said, skidding to a halt in front of us.

He was right. We had only enough arrows to take out a tenth of the Zeroes, even if we got 100% kill shots. I’ve gotten lots of practice, but I’m not that good. We took off running, heading northwest to New Haven. I counted my steps, and after 30 paces, I slowed to a walk. 30 paces of that, and I started running again. It was a technique that ate up ground even as it allowed you to rest in between the sprints.

All we had to do was keep it up for about eight hours.

We ran, as only hunted game can run.

It wasn’t long before we saw their forms on the periphery. The stronger ones could keep pace with us. They would run along both sides and slowly arc in. While we fought them, the others would catch up and take us from behind.

“Hold up,” Doc yelled. His voice, suddenly loud in my ear, threw me off. I stumbled on the uneven ground and nearly twisted an ankle before I came to a stop. I knew what he was telling us to do. Pick off a few of the runners, make the rest wary, and buy us some time. My chest heaved, my blood surged through me like fire and I had an arrow loaded before I even realized I had done so.

I took aim. Waited. The shadows began to separate themselves from the horizon and move towards us.

Our bows twanged. Three of them. Even the priest was getting in on the action. I think that he understood that this was our last stand and maybe saving life was better than letting people die. Whatever the reason, I was glad for the help. I turned and started putting arrows into the shadows. The arrows whispered secret death and the Zeroes hit the prairie one after another.

At ten arrows I paused. Half my supply gone. There was no more movement, and we began to run again. But we were slower this time. We were all in good shape, but you can’t run forever. There was acid in my legs and a spike in my lungs. I doubled over and puked Doc’s fancy Scotch all over the place. Pain is your body telling you: stop doing that.

I wiped my mouth. Got another arrow ready.

“Look where we are,” Father Kim said hoarsely.

I looked around, confused. Sandstone boulders poked up like the backs of whales in a sea of wild grass, but there was nothing remarkable about the place.

“Behind you,” he said.

Thousands of years ago, before they had horses or guns or even bow and arrow, Native Americans used to hunt buffalo by leading them off cliffs. They would dress in wolf or coyote skins and frighten the herd, driving them over the edge to their deaths.

A buffalo jump, they called it.

I looked down, trying to find the bottom in the pale moonlight. Two hundred feet below, a small creek burbled.

“Will it work?” I asked.

“We have to play it just right,” Doc said. “If we just stand here, they’ll figure out it’s a trap. Have to make them believe, right up until the last second.”

The priest was murmuring a prayer. The shadows closed in. We raised our bows. I could begin to pick out details; raggedy clothing, blood-stained maws. Some Zeroes were nude, some dragged broken limbs, and a few even had our arrows sticking in them.

We backed up as we loosed our fusillade. There was only the snap of the strings and the whoosh as the arrows sped away, then screams as they found their marks.

I glanced backward. We had come to the edge.

If this was a movie, there would have been a conveniently-placed tree growing out of the side of the sheer cliff wall and we would drop down and grab ahold of that as the Zeroes plunged to their deaths. Needless to say, there was no tree.

Our arrows spent, we dropped our bows. I pulled my machete from the sheath on my back. Doc had his pistol, and Father Kim raised his hands, kung fu style. The Zeroes sensed our weakness and started running at us.

“Not yet,” Doc hissed.

The ground shook with their footsteps. Their red eyes burned in the darkness. They bellowed as they hurtled towards us. They were close enough for me to count their teeth.

“NOW!” he screamed, and we stepped backwards and dropped.

My arms shot up and my hands went out and I grabbed the lip of the cliff. For one horrible millisecond, I thought I had missed but then I realized that I was no longer falling. I hugged the cliff wall. I could hear the Zeroes plunging past me, screaming as they went. Some of them jostled me when they dropped, and I was sure that one would fall on top of me. I looked up, and began twisting left and right to avoid the diving bodies. It seemed to go on forever. My arms burned. My fingers were soaked with sweat and beginning to slip.

Something grabbed my arm hard. I cried out and thrashed. “It’s me, don’t fight,” Doc called. “Give your other hand.” I reached up and let him pull me back up to the top of the cliff. We stood, panting, looking at the plateau where the horde had been. He and I were alone. As each wave of Zeroes saw the one ahead of it go over, they must have dimly realized the danger, but they had been pushed off by the ones coming from behind. The last wave must have run off into the night.

“Kim,” I said suddenly, whipping my head around. The priest was gone.

Doc shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry. I know he was your friend.”

I felt like I’d been gutted. Like something sharp had taken out my insides and left me with nothing but emptiness. It wasn’t fair. He was one of the good guys.

“We’ve got to go before they come back,” Doc said. “Let’s find a way off this cliff.”

I nodded.

We walked, resting only when we had to. Found our way again. Didn’t see any more Zeroes the rest of the night. Morning came, and I could see the buildings of New Haven in the distance. The sky was a rosy pink.

Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.

“I’m gonna miss that priest,” Doc said. “He and I disagreed, but he had some interesting points. I mean to ask him if Zeroes are still people, then are they sinning when they eat us? Things like that.”

I tried to focus on his words. My blood was roaring in my ears.

“I mean, they don’t intend to murder us, right? It’s the virus that’s making them do it. Or do they decide to do it because we’re just so delicious?” he said.

I had fallen behind. God, I was hungry. I found myself looking at Doc’s arm, wondering how easily it could be wrenched from its socket. What the salty, coppery tang of blood would feel like on my—

Doc stopped, stiffened. Something ancient had whispered to him, an instinct passed down from a thousand generations of hunters. His gun was in his hand before he even finished turning around. A six-shooter, with a barrel as long as a train.

At this distance, he couldn’t miss.

The sky was like blood. Or maybe that was just my eyes.

“When’d it happen?” he asked.

There was no point in lying. “Two nights ago. Couldn’t sleep, went out for a walk. Thought she was a survivor. Tried to help her and she bit me.”

“This whole time, you’ve been infected and you didn’t tell us.” He shook his head.

“We’re almost to New Haven, Doc. Just let me go. Maybe they have a cure now. You can trust me. ”

“That’s the ultimate Zero question, isn’t it? Not ‘are they human’ or ‘do they have souls’, but ‘can they overcome their nature?’ I think you know my feelings on the subject.”

I exhaled and looked up at the horizon. I had hoped Tracy would be standing there, waiting for me, but there was nothing.

“Can I pray first?” I asked.