Zombie Rehab by Craig Halloran Page A

guard, Myrtle, had her eyes intently on the wall of monitors. He pushed past Rudy, noting the heavy scent of alcohol on his breath.
    “Hey Henry, I’m warning you,” Rudy said.
    Henry faced the man and said, “You’re warning me! I’m warning you, Rudy. You’re drunk. One more word and I’ll have you locked up.”
    “That’s insubordination,” Rudy slurred.
    “Everybody, who thinks Rudy isn’t fit for duty?”
    Everyone raised their hands.
    Rudy sat down, slumped on the desk, and mumbled something unintelligible.
    “Look! Look here, everyone!” Myrtle shouted and pointed at a screen.
    Quadrant 14 was a row of cinder-block warehouses in the WHS lab district. It was a separate operation from their rehab facilities. Top secret times ten. So far as Henry knew, it was just storage. Trucks came in and out every so often, but nothing ever appeared to be out of the ordinary.
    A shadowy figure was moving along those grounds. Tori gasped.
    “Rod, did you dispatch a team?”
    “Yep. A fire team’s going in to check it out. Got them on the head phones now.”
    “Can you put them on speaker?”
    Rod looked over at Rudy, who was snoring.
    “Looks like you’re in charge. A good thing, too. I was about to punch a hole through him.”
    Rod nodded at Myrtle.
    The audio came, and Henry could hear heavy breathing. On one screen he could make out a shadowy figure roaming through incoming fog, and on another he could see three members of a security fire team closing in. Tori was clutching at his back as they all gawped at the screen.
    Henry could hear the fire team leader over the speakers.
    We got him in our sights. What in the world is that?
    The security team had flanked the strange figure in front of one large garage door. Henry could make out all the images on a single screen now. The security lights were doing a good job of cutting through the fog.
    “What is that?” Rod said. “Is that a zombie or a man?”
    Henry couldn’t tell. Its movements were stiff and quick. He could make out a mask of some sort on its head, more like a man. It had on a dark jump suit of some sort.
    Halt! Put your hands on you head. This is WHS Security, and we have authorization to use deadly force.
    Rod spoke into his radio. “Don’t hesitate, Jim. If that thing doesn’t stand down, disable it. Don’t kill. Just take out the legs.
    Roger that, Rod.
    “Myrtle, can you zoom the camera in any closer?” Henry asked.
    “That’s all I can do. There should be another WHS Security team from the warehouse quadrant en route. It’s their area. All of our zombies are locked up and accounted for. Maybe it’s an intruder.”
    “I’ve never seen a man move like that. It’s a zombie,” Henry said.
    He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. This can’t be happening. He could feel the tension building in the room as they all stood mesmerized by the screen. First giant zombies and now this.
    “Has anyone notified the director?”
    “Rudy did.” Myrtle said.
    “And?” Henry inquired.
    Rod and Myrtle shrugged.
    On the monitor, the security team, clad in full zombie gear, had fanned out in front of the zombie.
    “Rod, it’s a zombie. It has some kind of skull cap on. Looks like a gladiator helmet or something. It’s just acting like a typical walker. Is this some kind of prank or something? It better not be. It’s pretty screwed up, and I’m gonna bust someone’s ass if it is.”
    Many eyes fell on Rudy’s snoring form.
    “Hold on! It’s having a spasm of some sort.”
    Henry watched the zombie arc up like it was shot in the back. It rushed the men. Tori and Weege screamed.
    BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
    Henry covered his ears.
    Rod ripped off his headset. “Dammit!”
    The shotgun blasts tore into the zombie, knocking it from its feet. It was difficult to see underneath the blanket of fog.
    “Did you see that? Geez, I never seen a zombie move that fast before. Wooo-Weeee! It’s dead as a rock now.”
    There was a pause.
    “Jim, you sure it was