Free Shades of Gray by C. Dulaney Page A

were the worst to shoot at. I think that goes without saying. The only way to get through a day doing what we did was to physically force yourself not to look at them for what they used to be. We had to trick our minds, so to speak, into thinking of them as something alien, something that had never been human. This little trick was always tested when we ran into kids. I don’t know what we would have done if they’d been younger… zombie toddlers. Zombie infants. I’m glad I never had to find out.
    I stopped for a moment to stretch my arms and glanced over at the others. They were still picking shots and letting arrows fly, no doubt stopping to rest their arms as well at some point.
    “How’re you holdin’ up?” Jonah asked.
    I jumped at the sound of his voice; I’d actually forgotten he was there. I knew what he was getting at. The last runner was the youngest I’d ever seen ( not a baby, thank God). I don’t know if I subconsciously left this one for last, or if it just happened to turn out that way. There was a moment where I swore the zombie kid was looking directly at me. Not in my general direction, not with hazy, dead eyes. That dead girl locked eyes with me, stopped her screaming, and simply stood. For only a moment. It was…odd.
    I held the thing’s steady gaze until she started that shrieking again, then turned my head and checked on Michael. He was finishing off his targets, moving slower now than what he had in the beginning. I checked Mia; she was finished and walking along the wall toward Michael. I looked back at Jonah, feeling my insides start to shake. I didn’t want to kill that kid. I knew she wasn’t a kid anymore, she was a zombie. I knew that. I also knew I needed to put her out of her misery.
    But the sound of the arrow ramming home...
    That one detail was preventing me from nocking my last arrow. I could even hear Michael’s arrows, slamming into the skulls of his targets, the visceral rip of the gray matter as the arrow head punctured and stabbed through the back of the head.
    “Kasey,” Jonah said.
    He had stood from his seat and stepped over to me. I hadn’t even noticed his hand on my elbow. I realized then that I had been spacing out and very close to puking. I blinked several times, licked my lips, and looked up at him.
    “I’m okay.”
    He frowned and let go, but didn’t step away. I think the color had drained from my face, and he was afraid I’d pass out and go ass-over-teakettle, off the wall and into the hands of the little kid on the ground. I noticed in my periphery Michael and Mia heading my way, so I scolded myself mentally and grabbed the arrow from the quiver. I nocked it and found the tiny head in my sights.
    In that instant, the child runner took on the appearance of my little cousin, Rayna. My heart thumped and sped up. Before I could run screaming, I closed my eyes, squeezed the release, teeth gritting so hard even Jonah heard it. He patted my shoulder, subtly dropping his arm once the other two were standing outside his platform.
    “Let’s leave the arrows ‘til daylight, ladies,” Michael said after watching the little girl drop to the ground. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough for one night.”
    I was visibly shaken, though I tried to pass it off as being tired. I looked over at him, making a point not to look down at the ground, and nodded.
    “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I’m dragging ass here. Too early for this shit.”
    Mia watched me closely when I bent to pick up my quiver. My hands and arms were trembling. I went about gathering my gear quickly enough that I hoped she hadn’t noticed. Jonah and Michael made a bit of small talk, mostly about the silence from the prison. I didn’t pay much attention though because there was only one thought that was racing through my mind: get off this wall, get off this wall, get off this wall.
    I had to physically force myself to slow down; I was shuffling about, yanking the quiver