“Stop!” I yelled again, sounding like a cop from a bad 80’s action flick. Temporarily blinded by the sun as I followed my perp – I’d always wanted to say that – out the door, I got my vision back just in time to see them reach and down and snatch up my gun from the top of my duffle bag and sprinted across the parking lot.
Sonofabitch!
My breaths came in fits and starts as I dodged around cars and shopping carts. It was definitely harder to run with a knife than the movies made it seem and I nearly sliced my own finger off twice before I threw it aside. It bounced once on the cracked asphalt before sliding out of sight underneath a pickup truck. If I had been chasing a drinker I never would have let go of my weapon (not that I would have a reason to be chasing a drinker in the first place) but I had gotten a glimpse of the thief as they’d swung wide around the hood of a dusty red fiat and I was pretty confident I could take down a blonde teenage girl, knife or no knife.
The skinny bitch wasn’t going to know what hit her.
I caught up to her on the grassy median that separated the parking lot from the road. Launching myself at her with a garbled yell, I caught her just below the knees and we both went down in a tangle of arms and legs.
“Get off me!” the girl cried. She kicked out and caught me underneath my chin with the heel of her sneaker. My head snapped back and my mouth filled with blood, the taste of it as bitter as it was familiar.
Spitting out a thick stream of red, I managed to grab her arm before she could stagger back up to her feet. I gave a hard jerk and the gun she’d stolen from me went sailing out of her hand and skidding across the grass. We both lunged for it, but I was quicker.
Landing painfully on my shoulder I grabbed the gun, clicked off the safety, and rolled onto my back in one fluid motion. Locking both elbows I pointed the gun straight at the girl’s face.
“Don’t you know better than to…You,” I breathed in shock when I realized who I was looking at. Her hair was tangled and she didn’t have her customary six layers of foundation on, but I still recognized her.
“You,” she said.
“How – how are you still alive? I blurted. Of all the people I imagined might have somehow survived Death Day, I never dreamed Hayley Nile – AKA Barbie Bitch, AKA bane of my high school existence – would have been one of them.
Her face registering the same disbelief that was written all over mine, Hayley climbed slowly to her feet, wincing a little when she put her weight on her right ankle.
“Do you mind pointing that somewhere else?” she asked, glaring down at the gun I’d forgotten I was still holding. When I lowered it her mouth curled into its customary sneer and she tossed back her hair. “You could have killed me, you little Goth psycho.”
Different day, same Hayley.
I guess some things really never did change.
“If I wanted to kill you then you’d be dead.” Brushing grass off my knees I stood up, shoved the gun into the back pocket of my shorts, and crossed my arms. Sweat trickled down the middle of my back but I ignored it. There were more important things to concentrate on, like the fact that my high school nemesis was still alive and well.
It wasn’t that I had wanted Hayley to die. I just never expected her to live. We were talking about the girl who had a mini-breakdown in English Literature because her cell phone ran out of battery. The same girl who stayed home for two weeks because of a zit outbreak. And the same girl who had been riding my ass for as long as I could remember.
I didn’t remember when or why we became enemies, but it didn’t matter.
I was the outcast.
She was the queen bee.
We were never exactly destined to be best friends.
“Where have you been for the past three weeks?” I demanded.
Her lips thinned. “I could say the same thing about you.”
“I’ve been hiding out at the old Renner Hotel.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I could have lied or flat out refused to tell her, but what would be the point? Like or not, we were on the same side now and fighting wasn’t going to benefit either one of us.
“On your own?” she asked.
“With my dad. And Travis. You remember him, right? He was the kid you and your bitch posse tormented on a daily basis.” So much for making nice.
Hayley’s blue eyes flicked to the left and the right as though she half-expected Travis and my dad to jump out of the bushes and yell ‘Surprise’!
If only.
“Where are they now?” she asked sharply as her gaze refocused on mine.
“My dad’s missing.”
“And Travis?” she pressed.
I met her stare without blinking. I didn’t want to say the words out loud, but somehow not saying them seemed even worse. Travis deserved for people to know what had happened to him and how hard he had fought right up until the end. I might not have been able to save him, but I could at least give his death some small measure of dignity. Surely that had to count for something.
“Lola?” There was a quiver of uncertainty in Hayley’s voice I had never heard before. “What happened to Travis?”
“Travis is dead,” I said flatly. “He tried to save my life and a drinker killed him for it.”
Hayley recoiled as though I’d slapped her and the anger I had been suppressing since I found my best friend dead in a pool of his own blood flared to life in a bright, brilliant burst of red.
“Don’t you dare look sad,” I snapped out. “You went out of your way to make his life a living hell so you don’t get to pretend to be sad now that he’s dead! You didn’t know him. You didn’t care about him. The only thing you ever did was tease the shit out of him! And why? Because he was a little different from you? Because he didn’t fit in? Because you and your friends got off on making other people miserable? Why did you do it, Hayley? WHY DID YOU DO IT?”
She paled. “Lola, I never meant–”
“Just shut up, okay? Shut the hell up.” Before I did something I truly regretted, I turned around and forced myself to walk away.
“LOLA, WAIT!”
I heard Hayley calling after me but I didn’t stop. With a gun burning a hole in my back pocket I didn’t trust myself enough to face her.
I really should have kept my mouth shut. Too bad I’d never been that great at biting my tongue or keeping my temper in check. I know, shocker right? Still, screaming at her hadn’t solved anything. Although I did feel a little bit better.
Veering off the grassy median I marched across Main Street and onto Spruce. Sprawling Victorian houses with white picket fences closed in around me. I was in the historic section of town, about as far away from my suck-ass apartment complex as I could get.
When everything was normal and I was just a degenerate teen with a dead-end future I had liked to walk here sometimes. To look at the big houses with their fancy balconies and inviting porch swings and imagine how different my life would be if I lived there instead of a two-bedroom with stained carpets and a fridge that sounded like a dying elephant. Would I have been nicer? Smarter? More devoted to my homework? Did a person’s environment make them who they were, or did their personality come from other sources, like their parents? If that was the case, then I guess I was shit out of luck either way.
Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t blame everything that was screwed up about me on good old Mom and Dad. But I did blame some things on them, like my constant cries for attention through negative means (our family therapist’s words, not mine). Turns out when you’re consistently ignored you start doing things to become un-ignored. Like flunk a class, smoke a pack of cigarettes even though it makes you sick to your stomach, and steal a car. Well, attempt to steal car.
I think we all know how that ended up.
“Will you just wait a second? God, Lola, this is so not the time to be a diva.”
“What?” Spinning around to face my high school nemesis I flung both hands up in the air. “What do you want?”
&nb
sp; Hayley stopped short. Perching a hand on her hip she tossed back her gleaming blond – and miraculously tangle free – hair and extended one long leg in a pose that was so classically Hayley I couldn’t help but snort.
One of us was being a diva, all right. And it sure as hell wasn’t me.
Vampire apocalypse or no vampire apocalypse, this queen bee wasn’t about to give up her crown. I almost had to give her credit. It couldn’t have been easy to pull off grunge chic, but she was doing it.
Even though the white short shorts were a little overkill. Not to mention totally impractical.
“What do I want?” Her eyes narrowed. “How about starting with what the hell is going on?”
“Are you being serious? You are,” I decided with a sigh when her lips pursed. I guess what they said was true: you could buy beauty, but brains were never on sale. “Vampires, Hayley. The town has been overrun by vampires. Although they really prefer to be called drinkers.”
“That’s your explanation?” She rolled her eyes. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“What’s your explanation?” Although I had been the first one to board the vampire denial train, it hadn’t taken me very long to jump off. I was genuinely curious to see who – or what – Hayley thought was responsible for the blood-bath that had soaked our entire town.
“Zombies,” she said decisively. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Zombies,” I repeated.
“Duh.” She flicked a hand through her long hair, pulling it over one shoulder. “Haven’t you seen The Walking Dead? This is just like that. Well, except there’s no Daryl.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How could someone be so freaking oblivious? Vampires may not have been the first thing that jumped to my mind, but when you started adding everything up – silver fangs, flashing blue eyes, thirst for blood, serious allergy to sunlight – there was really only one sensible conclusion.
And it sure as hell wasn’t zombies.
“Who is Daryl?”
“Daryl? Daryl Dixon,” Hayley emphasized when I stared at her blankly. “He’s, like, the hottest guy on TV. And he kills zombies.”
“Great. Listen, Hales – can I call you Hales? – I hate to break it to you, but Daryl Dixon is a fictional character and zombies don’t really exist.”
The corners of her mouth tightened. “Oh yeah? Then what’s your brilliant idea?”
“Like I said, vampires.” I leaned back against a tree and crossed my arms. The cool shade felt good on my bruised skin. Now that Angelique was dead and my instant healing was gone I was capable of feeling pain again, like the scrape on my chin courtesy of Hayley’s big fat foot.
“Vampires aren’t real, Lola.”
I met her skepticism with a dark laugh. “Oh yes they are.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I killed one.”
CHAPTER FIVE
I Killed a Vampire and I Liked It
“YOU KILLED A VAMPIRE.”
Hayley sounded so skeptical I was actually a little bit offended. After all, I had worked hard to earn my reputation as a bad ass. Those things didn’t just happen overnight. If there was a senior category in the yearbook for most likely to shoot a drinker I fully expected my picture to be front and center. “Yeah. What’s so hard to believe about that?”
“Oh, I don’t know…How about everything?”
“Remind me how you’re still alive? I’m serious,” I said when she rolled her eyes. “I killed a drinker with this gun.” Still not trusting myself around Hayley with a weapon, I just gave it a firm pat for emphasis. “All it takes is one shot to the head and one to the heart and they go poof.”
“Poof?” she repeated dubiously.
“That’s right, poof.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“The poofing part?”
“The vampire part, you idiot.” A fan of blond hair spilled across her cheek as she canted her head to the side. “Everyone knows vampires are nice. Haven’t you seen Twilight?”
“Do you ever hear yourself speak?” I wondered out loud. “Or are you just as amazed as the rest of us by all the stupid shit that comes out of your mouth? Vampires are real and I promise you that they are not nice.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I–” Almost fell in love with one. “Because I just know, okay?” And now I sounded exactly like Maximus. Replying to every question with a vague answer. Refusing to give out any pertinent details. Always hiding something. “You just have to trust me.”
Hayley snorted. “As if.”
“Look at the facts,” I said, my voice rising along with my exasperation. Raising my right hand, I began to tick off my fingers one after the other. “They attacked at night. They drained people of blood. They had super-human strength and super-human speed. Does that really sound like zombies to you? This isn’t the first town they’ve done this to and it isn’t going to be the last. We were a test, Hayley.”
“What do you mean we were a – a test?” For the first time Hayley actually sounded a little scared.
Good.
She should be.
Stepping out of the shadow of the tree I closed the distance between us. To her credit, Hayley didn’t move back. She met me stare for stare, her dark blue eyes unblinking. “A test to see how quickly they could slaughter an entire town. To them, Revere was nothing more than a meat-packing plant. And we were the cows.”
The color drained from her face. “How do you know that?”
“Because one of them told me.”
“One of them spoke to you?”
“Where have you been for the past seven days? Seriously.” I could not understand how Hayley had survived this long and not come across one of the drinkers face to face. Since this whole nightmare began I had been tripping over the bastards left and right, starting with the drinker at the Livingston’s and ending with Maximus in the basement of the Renner Hotel.
“I’ve been with everyone else,” she replied, looking confused by my question.
My breath caught. “Everyone else? You mean you’re not the only one still alive?”
“Of course not. There are half a dozen of us. Seven if you count Rose Gordon which I totally don’t. Have you seen what she did to her hair? Someone needs to tell her perms went out in the nineties.”
Half a dozen survivors? Stunned, I stumbled back a step and nearly tripped over the edge of the sidewalk. I had been convinced I was the only one left – with the exception of my dad – and to learn that seven other people were still alive was nothing short of mind-boggling.
“I can’t believe it,” I whispered.
“I know, right?” Hayley smirked. “And don’t even get me started on her massive break-outs. Clearasil much?”
“Where are they?” I said, ignoring her attack on poor Rose Gordon, one of the shyest girls in our class who had never done anything to anyone. Like every other bully, Hayley preferred to pick on the weak and the wounded. I was the only one of her victims who had ever fought back which was probably why she hated me so much.
She started to answer, only to pinch her lips together at the last second. “Why should I tell you?”
If we were still in high school I would have given her my best go-to-hell look and walked away. But we weren’t in high school, not anymore, which meant instead of just looking I could actually do something. Like grab the straps of her ribbed tank top and slam her back against a tree.
“Because if you don’t we are going to have a serious problem. Capiche?” I said sweetly.
“You are such a crazy psychotic bitch!” she cried.
“Thank you.” Holding her for a split second longer – just to let her know I could – I released my grip and feigned a yawn as I stepped to the side, as though pinning people against trees was something I did on a daily basis.
“The middle school,” Hayley bit out, glaring at me. “We barricaded ourselves in the gym.”
<
br /> I toyed with the end of my braid. “Show me.”
REVERE MIDDLE SCHOOL WAS ONLY four blocks away from the high school. Ten years ago the middle school and the high school had been in the same building, but when we merged with a neighboring school district they built a brand new middle school complete with a state of the art gymnasium.
I followed Hayley around to the back where the athletic fields were eerily vacant. If this was a normal school day they would have been jam packed with kids. To see them completely empty and overgrown was just another reminder of how much things had changed.
All of the doors leading in and out of the middle school were tightly closed and the generic tan shades on all the windows were drawn. If I didn’t know any better I would have thought the place was completely abandoned, which I guess was part of its appeal.
“Wait here,” Hayley instructed. “I have to tell the others about you before I bring you in.” There was a hard edge in her voice. She was still pissed at me for the whole tree thing, not that I could really blame her. Maybe I had gone a little overboard, but it wasn’t as if she hadn’t deserved it. If there was anyone who needed to be brought down a peg or two it was Hayley Nile.
Folding my arms across my chest I waited impatiently while Hayley slipped into the school through a gray custodial door. It was almost noon and my stomach grumbled as I leaned back against the warm brick siding and tilted my face up towards the sun. I didn’t know what – or who – I was expecting to find in the middle school, but it had to be better than being by myself.
I had always considered myself a bit of a loner. I think most outcasts did. But there was a big difference between keeping people at arm’s length and being completely alone.
I missed Dad. I missed Travis. I even missed Maximus, or at least the Maximus I thought he was before I discovered the truth. My eyes slid closed, black lashes fanning out across the top of my sunburnt cheeks. Being back at school – even the middle school – was bringing on a tide of unwanted memories and feelings.
The Lola Chronicles (Book 2): A Day Without Dawn Page 3
