by Liam Hogan

“Ship! Seal doors against the zombies!”

A relaxed, artificial voice queried: <Define zombies?>

As far as our ship’s mega-intelligent AI was concerned, there wasn’t any difference between us and them. Whenever one of the infected approached any of the doors, whether to sickbay or the bridge, it opened with a polite shssh.

Anderson, our second in command—first, if you didn’t count the zombified captain—thought for a moment.

“Ship: implement new protocol. All doors open only on specific voice command.”

<Confirmed. On what command?>

But before Anderson could say anything, another voice burbled over the intercom. The captain’s.

“Brainsss…”

Liam Hogan

Liam Hogan is an award-winning short story writer. He helps host Liars’ League London, volunteers at the creative writing charity Ministry of Stories, and lives and avoids work in London. More details at http://happyendingnotguaranteed.blogspot.co.uk.