“There are eight left,” Josh said as they pounded down the stairs to the second floor. He clenched his fist, feeling Freya’s ring press against his palm. Rage burned in his chest. He looked at his watch. “Forty-five minutes left,” he called out. They had wasted time, and it was his fault. After they torched Freya, he had fallen apart, cursing Clatter and screaming in pain and anger over what his friend had been turned into. The others, not knowing what to do, had let him yell it out.
Now he was filled with new strength. Eight z’s stood between him and Clatter, and he was determined to find them. He strode down the hallway, abandoning the two-to-a-side plan and kicking in every door he saw. The second floor held more examination rooms, as well as what seemed to be offices for the doctors. They found the next zombie in one of those, standing by the wall and staring dumbly up at a framed diploma, like he was trying to read it. Josh noted the name on the z’s tag—PAUL—before giving Scrawl the okay to torch him.
They found two more zombies on the floor, a woman named Gwen sitting in a kind of living room staring at an old broken television set, and a man named Virgil hiding in a closet. They each went down with barely a fight.
“I’ve got to say, these meatbags have been pretty tame,” Firecracker remarked as they regrouped at the head of the last flight of stairs. “I’ve played holo-z’s meaner than these ones.”
“He’s saving the worst for last,” said Scrawl. “I guarantee it. Probably the ones who’ve been turned the longest. They’re totally gone. Nothing inside but pure instinct to kill.”
“Whatever they are, they’re still people,” Charlie said, shooting Firecracker a dirty look. “Remember that.”
“Okay,” Josh said. He checked the fuel level on his flamethrower. “We’re low on firepower and we’ve got five more zombies standing between us and walking out of here. I don’t know what we’re going to find down there, but whatever it is, I’m not going down without a fight.”
“I’m with you,” Scrawl said.
“Me too,” Charlie agreed.
Firecracker nodded. “Let’s do it,” he said.
“What’s our time?” Scrawl asked Josh.
“Twenty-five minutes,” Josh answered. “None to waste.”
They went down the stairs. The first floor was different from the others. There were no examination rooms, no offices. In fact, it looked like a hotel lobby—one that had been bombed over and over again. The walls were covered with water-stained wallpaper that hung in ribbons where it had fallen away. The dusty old furniture had nearly disintegrated into piles of sawdust and scraps of velvet. A huge chandelier that had once hung in the asylum’s grand foyer lay on the marble floor, its shattered crystals sparkling like diamonds in the moonlight that managed to find its way through the boarded-up windows.
“This is the only floor the families ever saw,” Scrawl said as he surveyed the ruins. “The administrators wanted them to think this was more like a country club than a mental hospital.”
“So where do we go?” Charlie asked.
“That way is blocked,” said Josh, looking down the hallway running south. The ceiling there had caved in, and the corridor was impassable. “It looks like we don’t have a choice.”
“He’s herding us,” Scrawl said. “Whatever is down this way, Clatter set it up.”
Josh nodded in agreement. “Then let’s get the show over with,” he said.
The hallway seemed to go on forever. They moved quickly, taking turns stepping into any rooms they came to and doing a quick sweep. Josh didn’t expect to find any z’s there, and they didn’t. He’s trying to get us to run our time out, he thought.
Finally they came to the intersection of the north and west corridors. Like the south corridor, the west was also blocked by debris. The only option remaining was to go through a small door set in the inside wall.
“The garden,” Scrawl said. “He wants us in the garden.”
Josh tried the handle of the door. It turned easily, and the door swung out. Moonlight flooded the hallway, and Josh blinked a couple of times. After the darkness of the upper floors, even the weak light of the quarter moon took some getting used to.
The walls of Feverfew rose up all around the garden. The dark panes of the windows stared blankly out at the overgrown plants and the crumbling fountain at the garden’s center, where headless figures stood reaching their cold hands up to the sky. The air was rich with the smells of dirt and rot.
“They could be anywhere in there,” Charlie said, looking at the jungle of trees and flowers. “There’s no way we can find them in time.”
“Then they need to find us,” said Josh.
The others looked at him, confused. “How?” Firecracker asked.
“We torch the whole place,” Josh said. “The one thing they’re afraid of is fire. We’ll smoke them out. There’s only one way in and out of here, right?”
“As far as I know,” said Scrawl. “But Clatter could have made another one.”
“We’ll have to risk it,” Josh said. “We’re almost out of time.”
“But how will we get out?” asked Charlie.
“One of us will guard the door,” Josh said. “Make sure nobody locks it. The other three will set fires.” He looked at Charlie. “You stay here.”
“Why me?” Charlie argued. “Why not him?” She nodded at Firecracker. “He’s the one with no experience.”
Firecracker snorted. “What kind of experience do you need to set something on fire?” he countered.
“You’re guarding the door because you have more experience,” Josh said to Charlie. “If anyone—or anything—tries to come through that door or close it, you stop them.”
“All right then,” Charlie said. “Go start your fires.”
The three boys headed for the trees. “We’ll start in the back and move this way,” Josh said. “Firecracker, you take the left. Scrawl, you take the right. I’ll go up the middle. We run through, start blasting, and run back here. Got it?”
“Got it,” Scrawl and Firecracker said.
“And don’t forget, there are z’s in there somewhere. Don’t engage them, even if you see them. You’ll just get stuck in the crossfire. Avoid them and get back here.”
Scrawl looked at him. “You think this will work?”
“I don’t know,” Josh answered truthfully.
He counted down from three. At one, the three of them took off into the garden. Josh saw Firecracker and Scrawl disappear into the darkness; then he was plunging headlong through the overgrown grass. It was still wet from the rain, and he hoped it would light.
He drove that thought from his mind as he pushed past some wizened bushes. Then he was running through a patch of rosebushes. Their thorns snagged in his clothes and scraped his hands, but he ignored the pain. He could see the far wall of the garden twenty yards ahead of him. As it grew closer, he lifted his thrower.
A flash erupted from his right. Scrawl had reached the wall. He always was the fastest of us, Josh thought as he came to a stop and aimed the flamethrower at a clump of dead weeds. As he fired, a third blast came from the left. Firecracker had made it too.
The fire took hold, snaking up the stalks of grass and hungrily consuming it. It seemed to hesitate for a moment, then jumped to a nearby tree. The dead wood popped and exploded as the flames wrapped around the desiccated limbs. Josh watched long enough to make sure the fire wasn’t going out, then turned and started running back to the door.
When he reached the fountain at the center of the garden, he bore left to go around it. As he did, a zombie leaped out of the muck that filled the basin and flung itself at Josh. It was covered in slime, and its hands grasped at Josh’s arm but slipped away. The zombie fell, its fingers catching hold of Josh’s leg. Josh stumbled, tried to wrench loose from the zombie’s grip, and went down hard on his back. The air was knocked out of him.
The zombie awkwardly got to its feet and came at him. Josh scrambled for his flamethrower, but he had fallen on top of it and couldn’t get it. He had nothing to defend himself with. This is it, he thought. I lost.
A figure charged out of the darkness to his left, bellowing madly. The zombie, confused, stopped its forward rush. Then Josh saw Firecracker aim his flamethrower at the thing’s head and fire. The zombie crackled as the flame made contact with the water soaking its skin and clothes. Steam exploded off its head, enveloping it in a black shroud of smoke and steam.
Firecracker pulled Josh to his feet. “Nice work,” Josh said, grinning.
The two of them ran as fast as they could back to the doorway, where Scrawl and Charlie were standing with their throwers at the ready. “What happened?” Scrawl asked. “You guys were right behind me.”
“We had a visitor,” said Josh. “But we took care of it.”
“You mean I took care of it,” Firecracker corrected him.
“Just look for z’s,” said Josh. “They’ve got to be coming out sooner or later.”
As if on cue, four zombies emerged from the smoke. They walked slowly and heavily. One, already on fire, clawed at its charred shirt. The other three headed for the four friends and the door.
“Four of them and four of us,” Charlie said. “Pick your z, boys.”
The four of them fanned out, each one heading for a different zombie. Scrawl took the one that was already smoking, hitting it dead on with a blast that peeled the skin from its torso. Charlie took on a massive man who, even after being set afire, continued to walk toward her until a second blast from Scrawl took out the zombie’s legs and left it a pile of melting fat.
Josh advanced on his target. To his left Firecracker was toasting his zombie, which left just one to go. For the first time Josh allowed himself to think that they really might get out alive.
Then he saw the zombie’s face. “Stash,” he whispered.
Stash saw him and stopped. His dead eyes stared at Josh, and his mouth began to move. His head rolled from side to side as well, and his arms twitched spasmodically. Josh raised his flamethrower. But as he took aim, he saw Stash’s mouth move again. Something about it wasn’t right. He wasn’t just making random sounds. He’s trying to talk, Josh realized.
Before he knew it, he was running toward his old teammate. He heard Charlie, Scrawl, and Firecracker screaming for him to stop, but he kept going, coming to a halt only when he was just out of Stash’s reach. Stash turned his head, looking at Josh, and mumbled. Josh still couldn’t hear him.
You have to get closer, he told himself.
Fighting every one of his natural instincts, he took another step toward Stash. Stash didn’t move. Josh took another step, then another, until he was right in front of Stash. He looked into the boy’s one remaining eye. It was milky, and thick yellow ooze dripped from the corners. But then, just for a moment, it seemed to clear, and Josh almost believed he was looking at the old Stash.
“Home,” Stash mumbled. He pressed something into Josh’s hand. Then, before Josh knew what he was doing, Stash staggered back, pretending to be hit, and fell into the flames that had engulfed the garden. Josh watched, a scream stuck in his throat, as Stash disappeared behind the wall of fire.
The next thing he knew he was being pulled back by Scrawl and Charlie. “We have to get out of here,” Charlie yelled above the roar of the inferno.
Josh turned his back on the garden and followed his friends through the door. When they were in the hallway again, Firecracker shut the door behind them. “Now what?” he said. “We got them all, didn’t we?”
Scrawl nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “But somehow I don’t think we’re done yet.”
“What are you holding?” Charlie asked Josh.
Josh looked at the key in his hand. “Stash gave it to me just now. But I don’t know what it’s for.”
Scrawl took the key from Josh and looked at it for a long moment. “I think I know what this is,” he said.
“What?” asked Josh.
“You know how Clatter wears that coat with all the keys sewn on it?” Scrawl said. “He doesn’t just do it because it looks cool. He does it to hide things.” He held the key up. “Things like this.”
“What’s the key to?” said Firecracker.
Scrawl held the key up. “If we’re lucky—the way out.”