The window holds, and I walk further down the hall.
I see now why Cassie called this a zombie zoo. I pass room after room filled with different types of zombies. I reach a room holding a bunch of fast ones; they rush the window and hit it so hard that it shudders. I watch the window and the wall for a bit, wondering if it will give, but it holds. They pound on the window and then I see one of them glance at a door to his left. He’s wearing a brown sweater, nice dark brown pants and a white lab coat. He’s younger, probably in his thirties when he died, and his eyes still snap with some intelligence. Yes, there’s definitely still a spark in there.
He runs to the door and actually turns the knob. I grip the gun stuck in the front of my jeans, ready to shoot if necessary. The door doesn’t move, and he slams his fist against it. I jump a bit, but the door holds.
He runs back to the window, as if to see if I’m still there. I walk away, but I can still feel his eyes on me as I go down the hall.
I pass a lot more rooms like that, until I come to the end of the hallway, and there’s just one more room left.
It’s lit inside, revealing cabinets and a black counter top against the far wall and a black table in the middle of the room. There’s a female sitting on the table, facing away from me. She’s in one of those white hospital gowns that’s open at the back, and I can see the pale white skin of her back leading down to her white underwear.
I take a step closer and she turns, almost like she knew I was there. Did she hear me? Could she hear me through the glass?
She turns in a really neat maneuver, so that her legs are still closed and she doesn’t flash me. She pulls the gown tight and looks up at me.
The front of the gown is decorated with little red apples. She has black hair, with flashes of blue glinting in her hair as she moves, and pale white skin. Her eyes are black, with only a tiny bit of the cracking visible in them. I take another step closer, and that’s when I see that her skin isn’t cracked – instead there are silver lines, silver threads showing through her skin. It’s almost like her veins or arteries are showing – with that same random trace of lines – but instead the colors are silver.
I realize then that she hasn’t rushed the windows like the others. She isn’t desperately trying to get to me.
Her black eyes burn with intelligence. She notices my open-mouthed stare, and this closed mouth smile spreads slowly across her face. Her hands grip the edge of the table and she starts swinging her legs.
She is zombie, and she is completely, totally aware. Her intelligence is intact.
My hands are sweaty and my heart pounds so hard that I’m sure she can hear it.
“Delilah!” Sam shouts and I jump. “Come on! We’re ready to go!” He stands at the far end of the hallway and waves me towards him.
I take one last quick glance at the girl, as her smile deepens and her legs swing, and then I start a slight jog towards Sam.
I don’t mention her, and I don’t know if Cassie saw her. But as I leave, I have a really odd thought. She wasn’t concerned about getting to me at all. Does that mean she isn’t hungry? Does that mean she could last forever in there?