Creative Writing: Zombies

I dove into the trash bin as the next group turned the corner.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to check out the contents in advance. Judging by the squishing underneath me and the smell of yesterday's tuna casserole, this bin's last stop had been the cafeteria.

I looked at the positive - at least it wasn't the bio cleanup from the animal lab. I'd take tuna casserole over monkey poo any day of the week.

I hoped the zombies didn't agree.

Holding my breath, I listened as they approached. Ten versions of drag-step, drag-step melded into a curious cadence. The soft shuffle of dress shoes intermingled with the sharper click of women's heels. I briefly wondered if there'd ever been a stiletto-wearing zombie in the movies. Dr. D'Amitro in the research lab was the resident movie buff...but he wasn't in any shape to answer my question.

Dr. D'Amitro. I thought back to my conversation with the Director.

"Zombie hoard? Have you been sampling some of the new chemicals in the test lab?" I asked.

"No. But that's where the problem is." The Director hesitated.

My threat assessment soared. The Director never hesitated.

He took a deep breath. "After your incident in Paris, the Board authorized Dr. D'Amitro to begin research on a method of inducing brief periods of retroactive amnesia in a crowd of people."

I cringed at the mention of Paris.

"I see you remember that fiasco," the Director continued. "He had early success and the results were promising. Unfortunately, a dropped vial released it into the lab ventilation systems."

"Got it. I need to round up the forgetful geeks."

"No. Turns out his latest formula was more effective than he anticipated. It wiped out several years of memories. The lab was filled with people who no longer kn...

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...in the cafeteria! Run now if you want to grab a spot before they're full!"

As one, the hoard turned and started down the hall.

Beep. Five minutes.

Dropping the arm, I ran into the room. Two minutes later I was back in the hallway, flash drive safely stashed in my pocket.

Escape was limited. Maria blocked the way down. The techies blocked the cafeteria route.

I ran up the stairs.

I rushed onto the roof and immediately regretted dropping the arm. Zombies clustered around - yet ignored me as I ran for the edge. Instead, they were focused on the rapidly approaching planes.

The sanitation crew.

I dodged and weaved through the hoard as the sounds of jet engines drew closer. I pushed Dr. D'Amitro aside and hurled myself off the roof.

Time slowed. Missiles whined. My watch beeped.

00:00

I engaged my glider suit as missiles hit the building.

Mission accomplished.