Dead Ahead by Grant Park

programmed into the brain of the creatures, to work this out, however, would be a job for a neurobiologist, of which they had none. This was the cause of Fosters conundrum. The zombies were genetically altered and therefore untreatable, but he couldn’t tell this to Michaels as he would then deactivate the cooling systems, so he had to keep feeding him false data. He knew he was running out of time.
    “Sounds like Michaels is on his high horse again, Cupcake.” he replied to Cassie “He has started using the alarm to call meetings rather than to send out runners”
    “Surely that can’t be a good idea, what if there really is an emergency? And, Dad; please don’t call me cupcake.” said Cassie.
    “Since when did Michaels have any good ideas?” he said, ignoring her request.
    Cassie let out an exasperated sigh in reply to the half hearted joke and avoidance. They made it to the end of the long hallway and took a right towards the conference room.
     
     
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    “Ah! Dr Foster,” announced Major Michaels from behind the desk which he had proclaimed to be his own, “the very man we have been waiting for,” He was a portly man and seemed to have somehow been gaining weight since he had been stuck in the bunker, he wore his dark green uniform as usual, though he hadn’t been buttoning up the jacket of late, Cassie wasn’t sure he actually could button it any more, his short hair was greying from the roots confirming her suspicions that he had been dying it dark brown for many years. “....and Miss Foster too, excellent.” he continued.
    He refused to recognise that Cassie too was in fact a doctor; possibly because having two people by the same title would confuse and befuddle his aging brain. Thusly, Cassie had given up correcting him.
    The room already held the other six laboratory staff, doctors and scientists, who were sat on bright orange plastic stackable chairs before the Major, Cassie and her father joined them. The room was also lined with eight soldiers, armed as always but looking slightly edgier than usual. And there he was, as ever, on the Majors right hand side, the bulldog that was Staff Sergeant Knox; loyal as a bulldog and twice as stupid. Knox was a squat, wide man, heavily built with a shaven bald head and a face that looked like it had been used to hammer in fence posts. His head seemed to be too big for his features, which were always scowling. He looked like he felt it was an injustice for him to be shipped here to look after a bunch of science geeks and a toff Major while he could be out there smashing some innocent persons face into the dirt.
    “Well, now that we are all here let us get down to brass tacks,” Michaels said as he made his way from behind his desk, taking his red banded hat from under his arm and sitting it on the table before resting his ample behind beside it, “It has been a week now since we lost contact with London, and I believe it is time for some decisive action. We have the resources here to wipe these cursed zombies off the face of our fine country, and I mean to use them. The Sellafield plutonium resources…
    At this Cassie could no longer hold her tongue, she stood and interrupted the Major, “You can not be truly serious about this; we have no idea what that kind of effect the alpha particles will have on these creatures!”
    “Please Miss Foster, let me finish,” The Major loudly cut in, “as it turns out, the Plutonium would not have the desired reach or effect on the country,” Cassie let out a sigh of relief, “So I have opted to put the reactor core into meltdown!”
    Utterly dumbfounded Cassie was left staring at the Major; half way from standing and sitting back down. She was brought out of her stupor upon hearing her father’s voice and many of the other doctors leaping to their feet to object. Above the hubbub she could hear the Michaels trying to quell the ruckus. There was little wonder why he had brought so many