Zombie

Josh required a weapon with which he could strike quickly and irrevocably. A knife or a piece of glass would slice through Kir's throat before the boy--the monster Josh had once hunted--could speak and bend Josh to his will.

Kir fed Josh to keep up his strength and he didn't want to think why, didn't want to think Kir had plans, like Brad's plans.
The kitchen would have a knife. Kir had sliced vegetables. The soup hadn't come out of a can.

Josh slid off the bed without letting it creak. He walked quietly. There were no city lights to guide him. The moon wasn't shining. In the dark he moved, taking care not to bump into anything. The crucial thing was not to rush.

Despite his painstaking efforts, a board creaked under his weight. He froze. From elsewhere, a bed's spring creaked in reply and, to Josh's horror, he heard Kir rise. Quick-footed and sure, Kir strode towards Josh. Kir was everything Josh wasn't--powerful, healthy, autonomous.

Kir flipped the switch and blinded Josh with light. He was caught in the kitchen and couldn't move. He could barely breathe.

"Hey." Kir's greeting disconcerted Josh. He squinted, confused by Kir's friendliness. Josh was bracing himself for an assault--he would fight, no matter the odds. But Kir didn't speak. He merely walked to the fridge to pull out juice and bread.

As if he thought Josh needed a snack. As if he knew Josh was terrified of Kir's words. Josh wanted to think these contradictions through, but he didn't have the luxury of time or clear-thinking--his trembling body betrayed him in a way he despised.

While Josh looked on, Kir put a sandwich together, all but ignoring Josh and his turmoil. Josh couldn't take his eyes off the knife Kir used to slice the bread. It was sharp, serrated, and Josh could use it against Kir's dusky throat. It wouldn't be the first time Josh had killed in such a way. He'd sliced open Snow's throat when Kir had ordered him to.

After Snow had attempted to rape Kir. No, don't think of that. Don't think of anything but the knife.

Kir offered Josh the sandwich. Did Minders feed their sacrifices? The boy's innocent goodwill freaked Josh out, so he didn't look directly at Kir as he passed the plate over. Josh watched the boy's steady hand place food down.

What Josh needed was the knife. He edged around the counter, leaned on it, then forced himself to look up.

Kir smiled briefly in encouragement and, oblivious, turned to wash his hands. Now! Josh's brain screamed. He threw his body forward, grabbed the knife and lunged at Kir's throat, his movements clumsy, but accurate.