by T. A. Brock
Cover
Title Page
Fatal
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T.A. Brock
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Omnific Publishing
Los Angeles
Copyright Information
Fatal, Copyright © 2014 by T.A. Brock
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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Omnific Publishing
1901 Avenue of the Stars, 2nd Floor
Los Angeles, California 90067
www.omnificpublishing.com
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First Omnific eBook edition, March 2014
First Omnific trade paperback edition, March 2014
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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
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Brock, T.A.
Fatal / T.A. Brock – 1st ed
ISBN: 978-1-623421-06-9
1. Young Adult—Romance. 2. Zombies—Fiction. 3. High School—Fiction. 4. Supernatural—Fiction. I. Title
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Cover Design by Micha Stone and Amy Brokaw
Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna
Dedication
This one is for all the quiet girls.
I see your true strength.
And for the guys who think of others before themselves.
You’re the reason sunsets exist.
Prologue
Rising
AN INFECTED HUMAN DIES IMMEDIATELY. True, but what they don’t tell you is how long they stay dead. Perhaps that’s because there’s no real way to answer that. Ask a zombie whether or not they’re dead, and they’ll tell you without hesitation, yes. Ask a human whether or not a zombie is alive. They’ll tell you, with the teensiest amount of hesitation and a question mark at the end, yes?
That’s why it’s better the humans don’t know about us. Easier.
We get what we want that way: anonymity.
To them we are simply more of what they are: human. Nothing creepy, nothing scary. Nothing toxic.
Living in secret isn’t as hard as you think; I promise. No castle on a hill to hole up in or anything like that. We live among them. The best hiding place is in plain sight.
There is only one thing you must remember: the water. Always remember what I told you about the water.
Let’s see…I think I covered everything. Any questions?
No? Good.
Welcome to our tribe.
Chapter 1
A Great Day to Be a Zombie
GRAYSON PATCH DIDN’T NEED an alarm clock. His brother, Leiv’s, habit of blaring eighties era Poison and Whitesnake on the surround sound in the living room usually did the trick. Leiv was what you would call a morning person. On a normal day Grayson would despise him for it, for depriving him of the privilege of hitting the snooze button. But not today.
Today was a great day.
Grayson rolled out of bed and stretched. With surprise, he realized he was smiling. And maybe there was a little hop in his step as he went into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he actually considered what to do with his hair. The thick black locks normally stood out from his scalp in total disarray because he just didn’t care to fix them. Leiv had once said his hair made him look like a rock star.
Grayson guessed that was probably a compliment.
Today though, he used a little bit of that gel stuff Raina had bought for him—his sister was always muttering for him to fix his hair. But even with the gel, it stuck out every which way. It was rebellious. Like him. So he let it do its thing. After all…
It was a great day.
Grayson’s mood only got better as he pulled on his jeans and a black T-shirt. His accessories consisted of a huge ugly ring that he wore on his middle finger, a length of chain, and a leather strap. Although these things went with his look, they weren’t for decoration. They were simply the only kind of weapons he could carry in high school. And he definitely needed weapons.
Grayson was a…well, a zombie. A riser, to be exact. One who wasn’t a disintegrating mess.
So were Leiv and Raina.
None of them had reached the Age of Deterioration yet, so in many ways they were normal. And in many ways, they were not.
Unlike his adopted brother and sister, Grayson spent a lot of time hating who he was. Hating that he was dead. Hating the things he had to do to survive.
Not today though.
He went into the kitchen where his brother was bobbing his head to “Here I Go Again.” The only thing keeping the guy from singing at the top of his lungs was the gallon jug of water he was about to chug.
“Oh, hey, bro,” Leiv said and then began gulping.
The water did its job, quickly filling in the parts of Leiv’s face that had sunken in and turned gray overnight. Grayson started in on his own jug as Raina breezed into the room, her long black hair flowing behind her. Clearly she’d already hydrated since she didn’t look like death warmed over.
“Today’s the big day,” she announced as if any of them needed a reminder. “How you feeling, Gray?”
“Fine,” he mumbled.
“Oh, come on. You’re better than fine.” Her perusing eyes settled on his head. “Is that gel in your hair?”
Grayson shrugged. He didn’t want the two of them to know how excited he was. For them it was already too late. For Grayson however…there was still a chance. But that’s all it was. A chance. He wished they wouldn’t make such a huge deal about it. The three of them were placing a lot of hope on something that could very well not work. After all, it hadn’t worked for his brother and sister. Now they were stuck like this. Until they became rotters.
Still, this was his chance.
Today he would meet her. The one and only person who could free him of his zombie curse. For each of his kind there was but one in the world—one human—who could help them reverse the plague that made them into living dead. It wasn’t easy though. No one had figured out how to do it yet. All they knew was that the cure would bring death to the human.
That was the part Grayson was choosing to ignore.
Because that was the part that would finally make him a monster.
Leiv had told him there were tests a Save had to pass before they died. Tests given by the Oracles. Tests that were apparently impossible. But even still, passing the tests didn’t matter if you couldn’t finish the deal. The dying part was the biggest mystery. You couldn’t just outright kill a Save.
Zombies had tried that tactic. And failed.
Grayson shivered. He hated the idea of murdering a human, as he’d been murdered. Since rising, he couldn’t remember any of his true family, but he was fresh enough that whoever they were, they were likely still alive. What if one of them were Save to a zombie, were killed for a mere chance at reversing the rising?
He shook his head. This had to happen. It was the only way for him to be human again. The guilt, he would deal with later.
Grayson grabbed his backpack and headed for the door. As he was leaving, he caught his reflection in the mirror by the entrance. His eyes were dark, shadowed, haunted. What would they be like when he was no longer a zombie?
The same, he thought. They would be the same.
He shoved the depressing thought from his mind because today was a great day to be a zombie.
Chapter 2
A Horrible Day to Be Human
AS CORI ABBOTT TRUDGED toward the daunting double door
s of Westland Heights High, she was filled with pure dread. Starting a new school at sixteen years old was hard. Starting a new school in this dreary, watery, hopelessly tiny town was even harder. But they needed a brand new start, her mother had said. And she was right. Cori could admit it.
After her father’s sudden death there’d been too many memories in Indiana. Around every corner, a face that held pity. Around every bend, a place that brought a recollection of happier times. And so they’d moved halfway across the continent to the Pacific Northwest and a cute-as-a-button place called Asher, Oregon.
Maybe it would’ve been harder to pick up and leave if Cori’d had more friends. But the truth was, she was only leaving one behind. Although Asia had been her best friend, things had been a little bumpy between the two of them lately. It was Cori’s fault. She’d pushed Asia away after her dad’s accident. Even still, she wished Asia was here now.
Because this was a horrible day.
Cori was shy and backward and the thought of talking to people she didn’t know made her feel nauseated. People just didn’t get her. No one did except maybe Asia. And her daddy. He’d gotten her. She’d taken after him. His shy, quiet ways were hers. Hadn’t Mom always said they were cut from the same cloth?
“Corinne, you are a mini-Norman,” she’d say with a huff. “Now, I adore your daddy, but you need to be more outgoing. Give people a reason to like you.”
On the other hand, Daddy always told her, “Be yourself, Cori. It’s reason enough for people to like you.”
She didn’t know which one of them was right, but at least her dad had known what it meant to be loved for who he was, not what he was. She’d admired that about him.
This was her chance though. No one knew she was quiet and backward and in mourning. No one knew anything about her. She could fake it. She could fake being normal…at least for a little while. She just had to force herself to be outgoing. Look people in the eye. Be the first to speak. And smile. Her mom was always reminding her to smile.
As soon as she’d passed through the doors of the school she felt eyes on her. Apparently staring wasn’t considered rude here in Asher. Maybe that was just part of living in a small town.
Luckily, she already had her class schedule and the school was small enough for her to easily find her way around. Her locker was difficult to get to because of all the people standing around it. But they stopped talking and parted for her when she got close.
Like Moses and the Red Sea, she thought.
They kept up the staring as she deposited her backpack. Still, no one said anything.
Be the first to talk.
After a deep breath of courage, she turned to the girl closest to her. With dark rimmed glasses taking up most of her roundish face and her hair stuffed up in a beanie, the girl seemed approachable. Normal even. “Hi, I’m Cori,” she told her.
The girl, frowning, looked her up and down once before finally answering, “I’m Rachel.”
Umm…okay. Say something!
“It’s my first day,” Cori blurted.
Rachel rolled her eyes as she slammed her locker. “Yeah, I got that.”
Cori cringed inside. It was a horrible day.
She watched, dumbstruck, as a beefed up guy wearing a green and white letter jacket pushed Rachel up against the locker and dove in for her lips. Whoa. She knew she should look away, but it was like a train wreck. Or like a Hot Wheel colliding with a Mack truck. There should be some resulting damage.
A whistle blew and they pulled apart, Rachel giggling. “No PDA, Evans. Last warning.” Cori looked away in time to see an older man in warm-ups, carrying a clipboard, pass by.
Rachel’s boy toy grinned. “Yes, Coach.”
When he was gone, Cori was still staring at the couple.
“What are you looking at?” Rachel hissed, and then the two melted into the crowd of students.
“Don’t mind her,” a voice said from behind. Cori turned around to see who the voice belonged to and had to look up quite a ways until she saw the curly redhead with startling green eyes. “She’s just snooty,” the girl continued.
Snooty? By appearances, she just seemed so average. What did she have to be snooty about? Besides the hunk that was obviously very much into her.
“I’m Peg.”
“Cori.”
She nodded. “What’s your first class?”
Cori glanced at her schedule. “Uh, English with Mr. Peters.”
“It’s next door to mine. I’ll take you there if you want.”
Cori tried to smile. “Yeah, thanks.”
Peg was tall and graceful like a dancer and her stride was long so Cori had to really work to keep up with her. She talked a lot too, but it wasn’t the kind of conversation where you had to do much answering, so that was good. She knew she should be listening to what the girl was saying, but her rattled nerves were a distraction.
And so were Peg’s clothes.
The girl was colorful, from head to toe, starting with her bright red hair. She wore a lemon yellow T-shirt that was a little too tight, an orange scarf draped around her shoulders, and a black denim mini-skirt with hot pink leggings. It should have made her look like a toddler but somehow she pulled it off. Maybe it was the three-inch cork-soled sandals that did it.
As they passed people in the hall, Peg smiled or nodded. And people smiled back. Genuinely. Not that saccharine smile that some people their age had perfected to get them through high school politics. That told Cori one thing: people liked Peg.
“All right, here we are. Mr. Peter’s class. Who do you have next?”
Cori looked again at her schedule. “Mrs. Simon.”
Peg screwed up her face. “Eww, Mrs. Simon. She smells like fish. You’ll find her class down at the end of this hall, on the right.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Do you have lunch A or B?”
“Uh, B. I think.”
Peg smiled, showing a perfect set of straight teeth—except for the slightly chipped one in the front. “Good! Me too. If you want, you can sit with us.”
Us. That meant meeting more people. But then, that was exactly what she was going to be doing. Meeting new people. She had no choice. Well, she could drop out of school, maybe…but that was stupid.
“Yeah, that would be great,” Cori answered.
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
Peg hurried through the door on the opposite side of the hall and Cori turned to face the one she was supposed to go through. The hallway was mostly empty now with the last stragglers slipping into their appointed classes and a few who clearly didn’t care if they were tardy. She had to force her feet to move forward.
The bell ringing startled her. Great. Now she was late.
A guy with drumsticks stuffed in his back pocket—and not the cool kind; the ones with the big pads on the ends—brushed past her, stepping on her toes. A whimper escaped as his boots crushed her smallest digit.
It was a horrible, awful day.
And then she was in the room. Just as she’d suspected, everyone stared. Some yawned, still trying to shake the morning fog. Some sat at attention, clearly interested. But all stared—except for the one in the back who seemed to be asleep. Even the teacher just looked at her like maybe she was lost. He was the teacher. Wasn’t he expecting her?
She moved to his desk and handed him her schedule.
“Ah, yes.” He nodded. “Class, we have a new student. Corinne Abbott.”
“Cori,” she corrected.
“All right, Cori. Let’s see, I think there’s an open desk over there in the corner. Take a seat and I’ll get you a textbook.”
Carefully, she made her way between the crowded row of students until she found the first empty seat. Next to drummer boy.
A couple latecomers slipped in while Mr. Peters rummaged through a cabinet.
He’d just handed over a thick book when all of a sudden, Cori’s vision got blurry and dizziness swamped her. She squeezed her eyes s
hut, hoping it would go away, hoping nobody noticed. She was already the center of attention. Fainting would make that ten times worse.
When she opened her eyes again, she was relieved that the dizziness was gone and the lesson had started.
Bonus lesson: it’s a bad idea to skip breakfast.
Cori made it through her first two classes with minimal interaction. She was pretty sure she forgot to smile most of the time. No one really talked to her, but that was more of a relief than a disappointment.
In her next class, she was horrified when the blurry vision returned—this time with a crippling headache. She pushed her palms into her eye sockets to try to ease the sudden sharp pain. It didn’t let up though. It was fire and nails and a million kinds of blades. She tried opening her eyes and immediately had to close them. The light seemed too bright, too intense. Like the sun was perching on the shoulders of the girl in front of her, sticking his fiery tongue out in mockery.
With both hands gripping her head, she tried to think of what to do, but it was impossible. The pain was too much.
And then as sudden as it came, it went. In its place was the strangest sensation, like a pulling force of some sort. Almost like she was a magnet being drawn toward metal. It wasn’t uncomfortable; it was just really intense. Compared to the headache, it was heavenly.
She looked toward the door. Through the window, she saw him. Tall and dark, with crazy messy black hair. And gorgeous. He was gorgeous. He looked so out of place there that she wondered if he was even a student.
Then he looked at her. Directly at her. As if he was looking for her.
Chills raced up her spine at his expression. He looked so very angry. Why?
Cori was held spellbound by this stranger’s shrewd gaze, unable to look away.
A moment later, he was gone. Weird.
Surely his anger wasn’t for her. But still, could things get worse?
This was a horrible, wretched day.
Would it never end?
