Lara’s all smiles. “No. But my hair stylist is out there.”
Liam shoots me a confused glance. “Is she okay?”
“She’s worried about her boyfriend,” I say as Lara wanders to the other side of the roof.
For a split second, I consider following her, forcing her to talk—but that would mean moving away from Liam, which is something I’m not willing to do.
“So what’s your mom testing?” I ask, trying to resume our conversation. “It’s genetic, right?”
“Genetic mutations leading to special abilities and immunity,” he answers in an off-handed way. “Transgenerational inheritance, epigenetics…”
“Cool. Um, what does that mean?”
His gaze shifts from Lara to me. He twists one of his rings absentmindedly. “Mom’s work. Well, it’s boring.”
“And they’re having zero luck finding a cure?”
Liam completely ignores my question. I’m not even sure he heard me ask. Is he still thinking about Lara? Or his mom?
“Tell me more about your dad,” he says abruptly.
Okay. Maybe I’d better drop my nosey line of questioning. Maybe his mom’s stuff is top secret or something?
“Um…well, Dad called a few hours ago; no ships at Port Canaveral, but they did score some fuel,” I pause, not knowing what else to add. “I hate to think of him being so far away—halfway to Jacksonville by now.”
My phone rings, startling me. It’s Deke, using Veronica’s cell.
“Where are you?” he asks, his voice tinged with desperation. “I’ve searched everywhere. We need to discuss something important.”
“I’m on the roof with Liam.” I hope my exasperated tone will convey the fact I do not want him to join us.
For a few seconds, Deke sputters at the other end of the line. I can picture him so clearly, trying to figure out what to say. I hope he doesn’t launch into another one of his tirades against Liam. The phone is so close to Liam’s ear, I’m worried he might overhear. That’d be slightly awkward.
“Fine,” Deke finally spits out. “Someone else can babysit you for a while.”
Babysit me? What the heck is Deke talking about?
Then he hangs up on me. Which is a first. I know he doesn’t like Liam, but still, I didn’t expect him to be this angry. It stings—sitting here, holding my quiet phone, knowing Deke is mad at me.
No, not mad. Hurt. Deke sounded hurt.
Liam surprises me by taking the phone from my fingers, dialing a number, and pulling a ringing iPhone out of his coat pocket.
“Liam, I forgot! You have a phone, too.”
Duh. Of course he does. How else would he be talking to his mom?
“Yeah, I keep calling the bunker, like once an hour, just to make sure Mom’s all right.”
I nod. “I’d like to do that, but Dad’s gotta keep his phone off to save the battery. Maybe that’s what happened to my best friend Phoebe’s phone—maybe it just died.”
“Phoebe Brandt, right? The girl with the bright pink hair? I see you with her a lot.”
Wow, Liam noticed who I hang out with?
“Yep, that’s her. I wish there was some way I could swing by her house—you know, before we go to the port. Maybe her family’s hiding. They’ve got a ginormous basement—if they sealed off the door, they could hunker down there for weeks.”
“I think she lived near me—in the Pines.” He sounds apologetic. “That neighborhood was hit pretty hard.”
A lump chokes my throat.
“But, hey,” Liam adds quickly, “I saw a lot of people pack up and take off when the first news reports rolled in. There’s always a chance your friend got out before the infection took hold.”
“I keep calling her number, over and over.” I shake my head sadly. “No luck.”
“Are you using that universal phone charger thing Veronica set up?”
“Yeah.” I try to shove depressing thoughts of Phoebe from my mind. “Actually, I’m surprised Gretchen hasn’t confiscated our phones. You know, for the good of the glorious people’s commune.”
“Don’t give her any ideas,” Liam says. “She probably just hasn’t thought of it yet. Until she does, it’ll be nice to call someone besides my mom.” He punches my name into his contact list.
Grinning, I fight the urge to bounce up and down where I’m sitting. Liam has my phone number. Liam is planning to call me. I’ve fantasized about this moment a gazillion times.
I don’t know how long we sit this way—bodies touching, talking in low voices. It must be, like, two in the morning, but he seems as reluctant to leave as I am. Below us, a zombie moans. I shiver involuntarily.
“Hey,” Liam whispers, “it’s okay. Nothing’s going to get you.”
I nod, knowing he’s telling the truth. I’m safe here on the roof. And then, the most amazing thing happens. Liam puts his arm around me. It seems so natural to lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder. His other arm encircles me, and now he’s holding me tighter, my face buried against his warm chest. I can’t be-lieve I’m this close to him. He smells so good. Only the truly beautiful could smell this good after several days without a shower. I hate to imagine what I smell like.
We’re quiet for a long time. I am too petrified to do anything more than listen to the rise and fall of his breathing.
Liam clears his throat. “So, that fountain place I told you about? You know I’m going there tomorrow, right? With Gretchen and a few other people.”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice half-muffled by his shirt. “But what about that ‘travel is inadvisable’ thing? And plus, you know, that creepy-fast guy is out there. Aren’t you scared?”
“Yeah, I guess. But someone’s got to do it.”
He’s gorgeous, smart, and brave? God, could he be any more perfect? I smile and settle myself more comfortably against his broad chest. I could sit like this all night. And all day tomorrow. In fact, Liam and I should probably just stay right here until the zompocalypse ends.
“So, um…” Liam says, clearing his throat a time or two. “Since I’ve got to, uh, do stuff tomorrow, I better get inside and at least try to sleep.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” I sit up quickly, embarrassed by the obvious hint I should get off him. Poor guy, he’s been awake half the night with my boney chin stuck in his collarbone. He probably does need some sleep.
Or else he’s ready to ditch me. Yeah, that seems more realistic.
Embarrassment washes over me as I follow Liam back to the third floor. Did I just throw myself at him?
We pause at the foot of the stairs, but I can’t manage to make eye contact. “Okay then—guess I’ll see you later. Good luck tomorrow.” I try to sound nonchalant.
What do we do now? What’s the right kind of good-bye after you’ve spent half the night with a person? We’d talked endlessly and I’d leaned against him for an hour. Should I wave and bolt? Fortunately, Liam seems better at this than I am. He’s obviously got more experience with the opposite sex. He reaches for my hand, reeling me in for a hug.
As he crushes my body against his, I realize I’m overreacting. He did want to hold me on the roof. He’s not trying to ditch me now. He just honestly needs sleep.
One of his hands strokes my hair, smoothing it down my back. I’m surprised my entire body doesn’t spontaneously burst into flames.
“Thanks for tonight,” he says, his voice rich and warm at my ear. “You definitely managed to take my mind off everything.”
The moment would have been perfect, except Deke turns the corner just as Liam says his “thanks for tonight” line. My heart plummets as Deke’s face whitens.
Why should I care if he sees me with Liam? Deke and I are just friends. He can’t tell me who to date. He has no say in the matter. So why am I suddenly so fricking confused?
I back away from Liam mumbling, “Yeah, great,” or something equally stupid.
For a long moment, the three of us stand on the wide landing, tension thickeni
ng the air as we stare at one another. Then Liam gives us both a generic smile and continues on his way to the auditorium.
I pray Deke doesn’t follow him.
Then I pray Deke keeps his mouth shut until Liam is out of earshot.
But mostly I pray I didn’t cause that hurt expression plastered across Deke’s face.
Chapter Fifteen
Deke’s mouth opens and closes as though he’s grappling with what to say next. He shuts his eyes and takes several quick, shallow breaths.
“Deke, I—”
His eyelids fly open. “Don’t say a word.” He holds up a hand like a traffic cop. “Don’t say a single word. I don’t need any details. I don’t even need to think about what just happened between—”
“Nothing happened,” I grind out. “I was scared, and Liam was depressed about his stepdad, and we just talked, and sat on the roof, and there were other people out there, and sheesh. Why am I defending myself to you? You’re not my dad. Or my brother.”
His jaw tightens. “I don’t want to be your dad or brother.”
“Good, so what does this even have to do with you?”
His gaze locks on mine. We stand on that landing, facing each other for an absolute eternity, neither one speaking. It’s like Deke is waiting for me to say something, to admit something. When I don’t, he runs a hand along his face.
“I give up,” he whispers. “I can’t keep doing this. Especially now. When we’re in so much danger. Look, forget it—we have to talk about something important. Let’s go to the newspaper room.”
I follow Deke through the halls. I hope we’re going to talk about whatever Deke mentioned on the phone, and not what just happened on the landing. Maybe Deke isn’t Liam’s biggest fan, but I don’t need a lecture about safe sex or—
A chorus of zombie howls filters through the boarded-up window of the journalism classroom. I shiver, sinking into my desk. Cripes, why am I worrying about Deke’s opinion of Liam when a pack of killers is waiting to devour me alive? Clearly, I have misplaced my priorities.
When he starts talking, Deke doesn’t mention Liam. Although his face remains pale, and he won’t meet my eyes, Deke only wants to talk about one thing—water. Or, to be more specific, about us joining Liam’s expedition for water.
“Nuh-uh. No way,” I tell him. Despite the fact Liam personally invited me to tag along on this adventure (which might count as a date) I’m not willing to step outside our building. Not when those corpse-people are waiting to eat me for breakfast.
“Come on,” Deke pleads, leaning against Ms. Lucent’s desk. “There’s no way Liam can carry enough water by himself. A bunch of us are going. Stanley, Gretchen…”
“Good. Then you don’t need me.”
“Yes, we do. We absolutely need you to go. Probably more than anyone else.” Deke gives me a meaningful look. I know what he’s thinking—my “powers” might come in handy during this escapade.
I bite my lower lip. “Deke, please don’t make me. Let’s just sit tight. We’re getting out of here in a day or two.”
“Maybe we are, and maybe we aren’t,” he says grimly.
I ignore this. I won’t even consider the idea that Dad and Muriel won’t succeed. That they might not find a ship. Or worse, that something terrible will happen and they’ll never return from Jacksonville.
I gulp back the taste of fear. “Why does anyone have to go outside, Deke? We’re safe here for now.”
“At this point, we don’t have much choice. You may have noticed—there is absolutely nothing left to drink in this building.”
“I know, but can’t we last a few more days without getting like seriously dehydrated and stuff?”
Deke shakes his head. “Bo fainted about an hour ago.” His jaw tightens. “While you were on the roof.”
I pause. “Really?”
“Yeah. Dehydration sets in faster for younger kids.”
The apple. Apples contain liquid. I should have given it to Bo. But I didn’t even consider sharing. I hid from everyone on the roof, and scarfed down that apple—only thinking of myself.
My voice quavers. “Is Bo okay?”
“Yeah, but he needs something soon. He’s still disoriented. And a couple other people complained about being dizzy. What about you? Are you feeling all right?”
I nod. My head’s been aching all day, but I chalked it up to stress. Or caffeine withdrawal. Now Deke’s making me wonder if I’m dehydrated.
“How long can a person survive without water or anything to drink?” I ask.
“Three days. Less for younger kids like Bo.”
I’m silent, thinking about the fountain. Trying to beat back the wave of fear radiating from my stomach. Deke watches me and it’s like he somehow senses me wavering. God, he knows me so well.
“Donna, I’m literally begging you to come with us. You know how important this is. Your intuition…or gift…or whatever you want to call it—well, you could keep everyone safe.”
I exhale loudly, pressing my fingertips into my eyelids. “How can you even consider going out there? That crazy-fast zombie-guy might be lurking nearby. He’s so strong. You saw him! And…and the other zombies…I don’t care what Gretchen says—they can move around in the light—I’m sure of it. Like the zombie under the bridge overpass. And Vice Principal Annunziato.”
“Yeah, I agree. I think they can, too. But I also believe Gretchen’s right—we’ve only seen the red hat guy act superstrong at night. It’s classic monster lore. The sun weakens them. Like vampires or orcs.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Orcs? Seriously? I’m talking about a dangerous mission—with the possibility of us dying—and you’re talking about Lord of the Rings? Could you be any dorkier?”
“You know what I’m talking about, so that makes you just as dorky.”
I give him a playful smirk. “Only because you forced me to sit in your garage and watch all those dumb movies with you.”
He grins. “It was educational. I was preparing you for the apocalypse.”
I laugh out loud. Suddenly, I feel better. Calmer. Messing around with Deke, taunting him like usual, makes everything more normal. It drowns all the awkward drama with Liam, and helps keep my zombie fears at arm’s length.
“Okay, fine,” I tell him, still smiling, “let’s say you and your buddy, Gretchen, are right. Maybe the zombies are similar to orcs, and they don’t like the sun. Maybe it slows them down, but it definitely won’t stop them from attacking. Going outside tomorrow, it would be…just…stupid.”
Deke shrugs and meets my gaze. “Sometimes brave looks like stupid.”
And there it is again, Deke challenging me to do something scary, to push myself.
I mull this over. Am I brave enough to go to the fountain? I don’t know. But what if something bad happens to Deke? Something I could have prevented if I’d only tagged along?
My mind backtracks to Amy Baker—how I could’ve stopped her from driving that day, kept her from plowing into that truck. What if I’d told her about the psychic stuff? About the voices? Maybe just casually mentioned I had a bad feeling about riding in her car? I had a chance to save her life, but I didn’t breathe a word.
Deke stands motionless, leaning against the desk with his arms crossed, still waiting for my answer.
“So, there’s no way I can talk you out of this adventure?” I ask.
“Nope.”
I sigh in defeat. If Deke’s in, I’m in. I’ve got to keep an eye on him. Make sure nothing bad happens to him. Of course, there’s no way I’m admitting this.
“You know,” I say, in an offhand way, “Liam says the fountain is big. And I really, really need a bath.”
“Bet you won’t be the only one with that idea.”
I find myself nodding. “Maybe I’ll come with. But only because I want to bathe sometime this month.”
On the surface, it sounds like a typical Donna comment. But Deke knows the truth. For the first time in my life, I’m consi
dering doing something truly courageous, something selfless, something that involves risking my own safety for the good of others. A pleased expression lights his face, but he changes the topic quickly, before I have time to chicken out.
“You know,” Deke says as we make our way back to the auditorium, “we need a cool name for the half-and-half dude.”
“A cool name for who?”
“The head zombie kid—the one in the hat. We should make up a nickname, like they do in sci-fi movies.” His face takes on a dreamy quality. “We could call him the Shadow Being.”
I shake my head. “That’s lame, Deke.”
“Okay, how about the Shade Creature?”
I roll my eyes, but can’t help grinning his way. “That sounds even stupider.”
He holds the door open for me. “Ghost Dog? The Silhouette?”
“I’m going to sleep now.”
“Virus Lad?”
“Good night, Deke.”
…
The zombies howl all night with their usual enthusiasm. On top of that, I’m uber-worried about leaving the building, so once again, no sleep for me. Exhaustion settles into my bones. Of course, this might be a result of dehydration. I’ve never been so fricking thirsty in my life. The only good thing about being dehydrated? It takes my mind off the fact I’m starving.
I lie awake on the stage floor, listening to the others sleep. Tara is nearby, her mouth hanging open as she snores. Not very cute.
My mind drifts back to Vice Principal Annunziato, and the warning I got before she broke the window. I can’t believe Deke was the first to figure it out—about all this psychic stuff, I mean.
Of course, it makes sense. He’s pretty dang smart, plus we spend like, practically every waking moment together. Still, I automatically assumed my dad would guess before anyone else.
Parents. They can be so clueless.
I’m surprised Deke didn’t ask for more details about my “abilities.” Maybe he knows I’d clam up and not say a word. What would I tell him anyway? How could I describe something I’ve been hearing half my life?
Donna of the Dead Page 13
