Donna of the Dead

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Donna of the Dead Page 19

by Alison Kemper


  “Where do you think you’re going?” His words are a low growl. His hand locks around my arm, and he says, in an almost taunting way, “Silly Donna. Did you think I was trying to kiss you?”

  I don’t answer. The gleam from the emergency light reflects off his teeth. They shine in the semi-darkness as he smirks. He looks nothing like the boy I’ve been hanging out with for the last few days. He looks…well, scary.

  “What I want,” he snarls, his voice sounding odd and cold, “is you.”

  His grip is powerful; there’s no fighting against it. He pulls me toward him, as if bringing me closer for a kiss. But instead, he hooks one finger around the collar of my shirt, and jerks my sleeve off my shoulder. The bare white skin above my heart glows in the semi-darkness. All at once, I realize what’s about to happen. Liam is one of them. A half-dead. And he wants to bite me.

  “No!” I scream, flailing my free arm across my chest, as if it will provide some kind of protection. He’s too strong. Super strong. He easily gathers both my wrists in one of his hands.

  He yanks me closer, hissing in my ear, “You don’t understand this need to…to…contaminate you.”

  “No,” I moan, but it’s pointless. In that instant, the terror is overwhelming. Liam puts his mouth over my exposed skin, and bites me.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I must have screamed. And it must have been loud. Because suddenly other people come crashing into the janitor’s closet. Veronica. And Deke. They bust through the locked door in a matter of seconds. I don’t know what they expect to find. Maybe a rape in progress, or monsters in the air conditioner ducts? Instead, I’m crumpled on the floor in a half-swoon. Liam crouches over me, pulling my shirt collar to cover my wound. With his back to the others, it probably looks like he’s helping me. From where they’re standing, they can’t see Liam’s face. Can’t see my blood in his teeth.

  “What happened, man?” Veronica asks.

  Liam gives me one last glance and states simply, “Before she turns, bring her to me.”

  Then he lowers my limp body to the floor and glides out the door without any interference from Deke and Veronica, who stare after him like he’s spoken in a foreign language.

  Deke moves closer, “Donna, are you all right? Did he try to hurt you? Did he try to force you to…to…?”

  I want to laugh. Of course, that’s what Deke would think. My limbs are weak, but I manage to pull my collar away from the bite. Veronica gasps and swears. Deke’s face is a mask of shock.

  “B-but Liam…” Deke stutters. “But Liam is one of us.”

  “We have to get you out of here,” Veronica says. “Fast.”

  And that’s when it hits me. The reality of the situation. I’m about to become a zombie. I slide into a dark hole of fear. I start hyperventilating.

  “I don’t want to die, Deke.”

  He kneels next to me, my fear reflected in his eyes. “Donna, Donna.” He swears some more. “I don’t know what to do, Donna.”

  “There’s nothing you can do.” I’m half-yelling, half-crying.

  It’s true. Deke can’t save me this time.

  “Don’t panic. You might be one of the half-deads. Like Saul. Or Liam.”

  He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as me. I can’t concentrate on his words any longer. My head swims. There’s pain now. It’s concentrated mostly where Liam bit me, but sharp points of heat prickle along my neck. It’s becoming difficult to swallow. On top of that, there’s an overwhelming sense of betrayal.

  I am so stupid. There’d been so many clues. I’d never seen Liam eat any real food. And he’d roamed around campus without fear. Probably meeting Saul to get instructions. He hadn’t been afraid of the zombies, even though they killed his stepfather in front of him. Of course he wasn’t afraid of zombies. He’s one of them.

  “I’m such a fool.”

  “He fooled us all. God,” Deke moans, “he must have bitten Bo, too.”

  “Dude, we need to get her out of here,” Veronica says again, reaching for Deke’s shoulder and shaking it a couple times.

  Deke lets out a strangled sob. My vision dims. I imagine my eyes rolling back into their sockets, and I labor to focus on something real.

  I squint at Deke. “Shouldn’t you take me out back and shoot me?”

  Deke makes a choking noise. I struggle to keep my eyes open.

  “Please,” I tell him, “take me outside. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “No.”

  “Now, Deke. Before…” I swallow hard, “before I turn.”

  “Deke, she’s right. Listen to her. You gotta do it now.” Veronica sounds frantic.

  Deke is crying, silently.

  “Hell, I’ll take her,” Veronica says. “We don’t have any time left.” She drags my stiffening body across the floor.

  “No,” I wail, “Deke. Please.”

  I use my last remaining strength to grab for Deke’s hand. I don’t want to be alone or with an almost-stranger during these last few moments. I want my friend.

  I force my eyes to focus on his familiar face.

  “Please, Deke—I’m s-so scared. Please. Don’t—don’t make me do this alone.” Tears slide down my cheeks. I clutch his hand tighter. “Just stay with me.”

  Our eyes meet. For the last time.

  He’ll do it. He’ll bring me outside. I’m sure of it. Deke won’t fail me, here at the end. “I’ll take you.” His voice is thick. “I promise. I won’t leave you.”

  His words calm me. I can let go now. Close my eyes. Stop fighting.

  I’m dizzier. And light-headed. The virus is coming on, taking hold. Virus—what a funny description. Like a bad cold.

  That’s all that’s happening. I’m getting a bad cold. I giggle and try to tell them about my joke. I want to go out joking. Killed by a bad cold.

  “Just a bad cold,” I whimper.

  Veronica’s voice: “I think she said she’s cold.”

  Warm arms wrap around me, embracing me. Someone holding me close. Deke, I guess, though I’m beyond being aware enough to tell for sure. My last conscious thought—this isn’t a bad way to go. Surrounded by the arms of someone who loves me.

  Then I wait. The change will be coming soon.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  So, this is how it feels to become a zombie?

  Blackness enfolds me, holds me close, releases me again.

  My brain still functions. A little. I can’t open my eyes. Can’t move my body. My systems must be shutting down. What did they say on the emergency broadcast? Loss of cerebral function.

  I’m still able to feel—enough to know I’m being cradled in Deke’s arms.

  “I’ll let you back in…after…” someone says. A male voice. Familiar. Fabio?

  Deke shifts my weight to his left side. “Where’s Liam?”

  “Busted through here a few minutes ago. I wouldn’t have let him leave if I’d known—”

  “Doesn’t matter now,” Deke says in a bleak voice.

  The other person doesn’t respond. Then two simple words. “Good luck.”

  Doors close. Chains clink. We must be outside the Arts Complex now. What’s Deke going to do? Put me on the ground and walk away? What if Saul finds me? What will he do to my body?

  My body. That’s all I am now. A body. Waiting for reanimation. The sudden heartache blots out everything inside me. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t move. I would cry—if I wasn’t paralyzed.

  A noise. Snuffling. Oh no, is Deke crying? Don’t worry, Deke. This will all end soon.

  The heaviness returns, dragging me down. This is how it feels to become a zombie. I repeat the phrase like a mantra. Trying to stay awake. Trying to stay aware. Trying to stay me.

  Images scroll through my brain like a movie on fast forward. Dad, Phoebe, Deke. I bob in an ocean of darkness, rising for a moment, catching a breath, regaining consciousness, and then sinking again. How long until I sink completely?

&nb
sp; Another person is speaking now, splitting the silence in my head. A boy. Not Deke. Not Fabio or Quentin. Who is that?

  “—crying from Liam, and now crying from you. This girl must be special, very special indeed. Are you ready to hand her over?”

  Saul. If I could panic, I would. But my limp body won’t respond.

  “I’m not leaving her, you ass.” Deke hugs me closer.

  Deke takes a step backward. Zombies must be coming for me. Saul must be coming for me. Another minute or two, and I’ll be on the end of his leash, growling at Deke.

  Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap. I don’t want that to happen. Please don’t let that happen.

  “Keep back or I’ll knock your brains out,” Deke warns.

  The answering laugh is sharp and metallic. “My, my! Such derision, such hatred, from the Zombie Slayer. I was under the impression you’d merely bring the girl to us. After that, you can go free. You will be allowed to return to your…fortress.”

  Something happens inside my body. Something I didn’t expect. When I pictured myself on a leash, a surge of fear shot through me—adrenaline, I guess. The heaviness lifted—just a fraction.

  I focus on the fear. This is not hard to do. I can feel Deke retreating, step by step. Any second now, Saul will use his super-strength to rip me from Deke’s arms.

  This time, the jolt of adrenaline is palpable. It knits my limbs together, strengthens my muscles. I can…almost…wiggle…my…

  Sit still.

  A female voice, barely a whisper, traces along the edge of my consciousness.

  Sit still.

  What? Sit still? I don’t want to sit still. I want to find out what…the…frick…

  I manage to move my arm, the one smashed up against Deke’s chest, just slightly. He stops walking; his arms go rigid.

  Sit still.

  Shut up, you dumb voice. Where were you when Liam decided to infect me? Thanks for totally abandoning me.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Saul continues. “If your little friend turns, which should happen any second, you can be the one to put her out of her misery. The rest of us will stand back and watch. Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be strong enough to do it. After her eyes change, she won’t resemble your friend, your love, at all. She’ll be under my control then—like all the others.”

  No, Deke, don’t kill me! I’m still here. Still me.

  I try to move again.

  Sit still.

  This woman-voice means business. Her tone is flinty.

  “I’d never hurt Donna,” Deke tells Saul. “Not in any way.”

  “If you won’t kill her, then she’ll bite you,” Saul says simply. “And it will not be pretty.” His voice is tinged with disgust. “Zombies. We are not careful. We are not kind. I’m sorry, but it’s not in our nature. My army, all they really want to do is feed.”

  I’ve got to find out what’s happening. By concentrating very hard, I manage to open my right eye. Just a crack.

  Saul stands a few yards away. Through the haze of my eyelashes, I make out his ugly braces, covering his ugly face.

  “If you prefer,” he tells Deke, “you can stay here and fight. Not a very prudent course of action. You’re a good fighter, but you can’t take all of us at once.”

  Saul snaps his fingers. I turn my head the barest fraction of an inch—enough to see a troop of rotting corpses emerge from an alcove and creepy-crawl in our direction. I recognize them. The school janitors, their blue-gray uniforms streaked with dirt and decay.

  We are outnumbered. Six janitors stand in a half-circle, flanking Saul, gurgling and stomping, eager to feed. Tongues dangle from their colorless mouths. Ready to attack the instant Saul gives them permission.

  But there’s someone else here too. Liam. He steps up behind the janitors. The moment I see him, more adrenaline shoots through my body. And something else, too. Anger. The blood surges into my veins, my nerves, my muscle tissue.

  How long will this last? How long until the blackness returns?

  “So, Deke,” Saul drawls, enjoying the suspense. “You’ve got a bat. Who will you hit first? Me, the mastermind of this whole extravaganza? Or Liam, who is ultimately responsible for betraying your girlfriend? Either way, my children and I,” he jerks his head toward his zombie bodyguards, “will get a few bodies to eat, and that, of course, makes us very happy.”

  Deke points his bat at Saul.

  “There is no way in hell you’re getting Donna’s body. And you,” he shifts slightly toward Liam, “are not turning her into the bride of the undead or…or…whatever, you sick perv. You can watch her change, see the damage you’ve done, and then I’m going to kill you.”

  Liam and Saul exchange an uncomfortable look, like Deke is messing up some plan of

  theirs.

  Liam finds his voice. Tries to sound convincing. “Seriously, Deke. Just leave her and go. I’ll take care of her. Make sure no harm comes to her.”

  “Make sure no harm comes to her?” Deke’s voice thunders through the breezeway. “Is that what happened to Bo? You bit him, too, didn’t you? Did you make sure no harm came to him?”

  Liam’s mouth opens to speak, but Saul cuts him off.

  “Why are you asking Liam?” he sneers. “Liam takes orders from me. They all take orders from me. They hear my commands in their subconscious—isn’t that convenient? It’s somewhat like the gift your little girlfriend has, although we don’t know exactly where her voices…”

  Saul babbles on, not realizing how much he has just given away. Liam takes orders from Saul? So what happens if we remove Saul from the equation? If the zombies are leaderless, will they be confused? Will that give us time to escape? It might, if the blackness doesn’t come back, if I don’t change—

  Something clicks in my brain. A jigsaw puzzle piece snapping into place.

  It’s been too long.

  At least five, maybe ten minutes since I was bitten. A lot longer than when Gretchen and Stanley changed at the fountain. The radio broadcast said ninety seconds.

  Ninety seconds. Ninety fricking seconds. Way too long.

  There’s no hunger, no growling, no reanimation. Nothing. I’m simply not…changing.

  I’m not changing. I’m not changing. I’m…Not…Changing!

  I’ve got to tell Deke, got to sit up and—

  Sit still, Donna.

  Shut your pie hole, you dumb voice. I’m not going to sit still and get eaten by these nutjobs. Or let Deke get eaten.

  My body feels whole again. Functional. I move my arm. The one against Deke. The one Saul can’t see. I elbow Deke. Poke poke poke. Can you feel it Deke? Do you realize I’m still here? Poke poke poke. I haven’t changed.

  Deke inhales sharply. He felt me move, I’m sure of it.

  Sit still sit still sit still.

  Why the hell does the voice want me to sit still?

  I peek at Saul through my eyelashes, and my intuition hums. Me. One girl, one ordinary girl, is not worth all this planning. Something is up. A cold dread seeps into my frozen limbs.

  Am I one of them? A half-dead, like Saul and Liam?

  But that doesn’t feel right. No sudden urge to control the zombies. No yearning to trick my friends. Not the slightest interest in joining their side. And I don’t feel stronger or faster—still my same old wimpy self.

  My breathing speeds up. I need to figure this out. And fast.

  So, I’m not a zombie. And I don’t think I’m a half-dead. Does that mean I’m…something else? My brain jerks back to Liam’s comments at the fountains. My mom’s been studying girls like you. Did he know somehow? Did he tell Saul? Did they suspect I wouldn’t turn?

  Sit still.

  Yes! That’s why the voices want me to sit still. If I open my eyes and act normal, they’ll see I’m not changing. Liam and Saul will know they were right. They’ll win whatever game they’re playing.

  There’s only one option left. I don’t think about it. I just do it.

  “Rawwrrrrr….�
�� I groan, letting my body go stiff.

  “RAWWWRRRR….” I repeat. Then I convulse for a few seconds.

  Deke drops me like I’m made of hot wax. I bump to the ground. My mind flashes to Lara. The way her body jerked up from the grass after she’d been bitten. I mimic it.

  I’m standing now. What do I do?

  Eyes? Rolled back.

  Tongue? Loose.

  Arms? Stretched ahead.

  “Uggrrrrr…..”

  I try shuffling a few steps. Dang. How am I supposed to see with my eyes rolled up like this? I’m facing Deke now, my back to the others. Deke’s expression is a mask of grief and devastation. Angry tears roll down his cheeks.

  Poor Deke—he really thinks I’ve changed into one of them?

  I unroll my eyes and his jaw drops.

  I wink. Smile. Turn, and do the best cotton-picking zombie impersonation you’ve ever seen.

  “Uggrrrr….” I say again, facing Saul and stomping in place.

  Saul’s face is all astonishment. “Liam, you said she would be—her eyes—the voices—she’s supposed to—”

  “I guess I was wrong, all right?” Liam snaps back.

  Saul takes a step toward me. A red bat goes up between us. Saul holds out both hands toward Deke.

  “My friend,” he chuckles, as Deke aims the bat right between his twisted, mangled braces.

  “I’m not your friend,” Deke says, and swings.

  There’s force behind the hit, but Saul dodges. The bat doesn’t connect solidly. Saul puts his hand to his face. It comes away bloody, Deke knocked Saul’s braces into his chin.

  “Have at him,” Saul tells the janitor-goons, not bothering to hide the rage in his voice.

  Crap.

  The zombies step closer. Growling. Jaws snapping.

  Uh, what am I supposed to do now? I fall into step beside the nearest janitor. He doesn’t notice I’m not dead. Not too bright, these zombies. Plus, bleh, they really do stink. The whole rotting flesh thing? Totally true.

  Now’s not the time to worry about zombie hygiene. I focus every ounce of my concentration into portraying one of the infected.

  “Uggg… Irrr….” Maybe it’s slightly more guttural? “Arrrrr…” Hell, what am I doing, zombie method-acting? I stagger alongside the goons, as they try to surround Deke. He’s still backing away. The grief is gone, replaced by an expression of…of…oh no, Deke’s about to laugh.

 

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