“Urrrggghhh!” I tell him, hoping he’ll get the message he’s supposed to act scared.
“Ack!” he responds, throwing his arms up in pretend fright. Jeez, he’s like the worst actor ever.
In my peripheral vision, I notice Liam doing a strange thing. He holds out his arms, and blocks two janitors, halting their advance on Deke. Saul is preoccupied, bending the wires out of his skin. Deke retreats, bat still at the ready.
Another janitor lunges. Deke pounds him in the head. His mouth gapes open, and he falls to the ground, no longer a threat. The other three make startled noises and step back. Deke’s scared them. Good.
There’s no way we can get back to the Arts Complex. The zombies are amassed between us and the main doors.
“Argghh,” I tell Deke. Which translates to, why the heck did you walk away from our building?
“Eeek,” he replies with a shrug.
I raise both arms in a zombie gesture. “Urggghargablagga,” I say, which means, Where can we go? Where can we hide? Liam told us the surrounding buildings are locked. During his food runs, he had to get creative to get inside, and we don’t have time to get creative. Not with an army of monsters trying to surround us. What are we gonna do?
Saul steps closer. But not close enough for Deke to hit him again. Blood streaks his chin, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“Deke, Deke.” Saul shakes his head like he’s speaking to an unruly child. “Do you honestly believe you can escape from all of us? Where could you go?”
Behind him, Liam does another strange thing. He waves at me, then stretches out his arm and taps the sign next to him. It’s a large metal street sign. A stick figure holding a book. The universal sign for library. A big, blue arrow points toward our downtown library. Liam gestures at this arrow. So, Liam knows I’m faking it? And wants me to go to the library? Why? It’s not like we can take a break from the zompocalypse and check out a few books. What the heck is his deal?
“You have to face facts, my friend,” Saul continues, his attention focused on Deke, “there is nowhere left to hide.”
Liam gives up on me and tries to catch Deke’s eye. Again, he waves his arms and taps the sign. There’s no mistaking it this time. His movements are exaggerated; his eyes boring into Deke’s, pleading, as he touches the arrow. Then he nods and throws a thumb over his shoulder, pointing toward the soccer field often used as a shortcut to downtown. Saul is oblivious to all of Liam’s frantic gesturing.
That’s because Saul is busy staring at me. While I watched Liam play charades, I forgot about my zombie impersonation. Now, I’m just standing here, watching Liam, my mouth closed and my eyes focused. Oops.
“Well, well, well…” Saul sniggers. “I believe we have an imposter.”
“Okay,” I tell Deke in English. “We are officially out of options.”
“Run!” he shouts. “Now!”
A corpse-janitor lunges at me. I fake left, then right, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground. Deke grabs my hand, yanks me in the direction of the soccer field, and starts running his butt off.
Within seconds, we’re out of the breezeway and flying across the soccer field, our feet squishing through the still-wet grass. We break clear of the slow zombies, but Saul follows, and Liam isn’t far behind. Fear gives me speed, but not enough. Saul’s not one of the slow, plodding corpses. Even though he’s injured, he’s fast. Maybe not as fast as he would be at night, but still fast.
My sneaker slips in the wet grass of the field, and I almost wipe out. Saul is not so lucky. He swears loudly as he trips and slides in the mud. But it only buys us a few seconds.
The grass in the soccer field has grown tall over the past few days. Tall enough to hide a garden hose the lawn maintenance crew forgot. I don’t see the hose until I’m skipping over it.
“Watch out!” I yell to Deke, but I’m too late. His knee slams the earth, and his bat goes flying. Momentum propels me forward for a second, and then I’m switching direction, forgetting my fear and running back. I dive for the weapon at the same time Saul closes in on Deke.
“Deke!” I yell, lobbing the bat toward him. He catches it, and swings with all his might. It connects with a sickening crunch. Deke’s on his feet and we’re booking it across the field.
“What happened to self-preservation?” he yells at me.
“Screw that.”
I reach for Deke’s free hand and we run together. The squishy soccer field gives way to the solid surface of the sidewalk. Then the empty road. We’re getting away! We’re going to make it! Just a few more—
My knees buckle. Oh crap. The blackness. It’s returning.
I was wrong. My bones unravel, my blood thickens. Oh crap, this must be it—the change— I was wrong. I was wrong. I am going to turn. It just hadn’t happened yet. Oh my God oh my God oh my God.
I slam face-first into the concrete. Deke shoves his hands under me and hoists me over his back, fireman style, his bat jammed uncomfortably in my armpit. I fight to keep my eyes open, to keep the darkness at bay.
Deke can’t run fast while he’s carrying me. We duck into the shade of a building. Deke reaches for a door handle, but Saul’s too quick. He’s caught up to us.
He seizes my left arm just as we gain the doorway. I try to scream, but the sound exists only in my brain. Saul is brutally strong. Deke drops me, and I crash against the door. Oh hell, I’m completely paralyzed now. I can see, but I can’t move.
I’d been wrong. So wrong. I’m still going to change.
I don’t want to change.
Inside, I scream and cry, but outside I’m silent—becoming more helpless and immobile with each passing second.
With his right hand, Deke points his bat in Saul’s face. Saul releases his iron hold on my arm and steps away. Deke turns the doorknob. It doesn’t budge.
“Dammit!” he kicks the door in frustration. Liam catches up to us. He’s smirking. Deke swears at him. Then at Saul. Then at the whole damned world for trapping us in this inescapable situation—surrounded by zombies, our backs against a locked door.
“No place to run,” Saul taunts. “What will you do?”
At that very moment, something clinks behind us. Inside the building. I use every last ounce of strength to shift my gaze. It’s a woman. With one hand, she unwinds chains around the handles of the door. In the other, she brandishes a gargantuan can of pepper spray. A crossbow is slung over her shoulder.
Many things happen at once. Saul lunges, almost like he’s trying to bite a chunk out of me. The wires of his braces graze my cheek. Behind me, the door opens inward and I topple backward into the building. The shot of pepper spray doesn’t hit me directly, but fills the air, burning my eyes and closing my throat. A second shot streams past my head, hitting Liam square in the face.
“Gah!” he wails, collapsing on top of Saul.
Deke pulls me into the building. The tiny, white-haired woman lets out a stream of expletives that would better suit a trucker as she somehow yanks the door closed.
A key clinks in a lock. On the other side of the glass, Liam lies on the ground, clawing at his eyes. Saul regains his footing and pulls the door handle—only to find he’s too late.
“I can’t believe I missed that imbecile and hit poor Liam instead. Oh well, the pepper spray will wear off shortly. Now,” the woman says, surveying us with bright eyes, “you must be Donna and Deke. I have heard so much about you. I bet you both need a cup of tea.”
“Who are you?” Deke asks.
“I’m the librarian. And I’m the only person left alive in this building.” She holds out her hand to help Deke up. “I’m very glad to see I’m not the only person left alive.”
At that moment, I lose my fight with the blackness.
Chapter Twenty-four
I’m surprised to discover I’m alive. And I still feel like myself. At least, sort of. My head pounds, and my bones ache, deep inside, like I have the worst-ever case of flu. But other than that, I don
’t feel any different. When I attempt to open my eyes, my lids flutter a little, but I don’t have the strength to try harder.
“Hi there.”
A male voice. Liam? I must be with Liam now, right? Liam told Deke to bring me to him before I changed. I want to see myself. Survey the damage. Find out if I’ve turned gray and weird-looking. By focusing all my strength, I manage to pry my eyes open.
Deke stands over me. It’s his voice I’d heard. In my blurry haze, I must not have recognized it. I can’t tell if I’m relieved or disappointed to see him. Maybe a little of both.
Then it rushes back to me. The breezeway, the fading in and out of consciousness, the run to the library. Yikes. I must have blacked out again. For a very, very, VERY long time.
“What happened?” I ask, sounding hoarse.
Deke sits beside me. “Not sure.”
“Am I a…?” I can’t bring myself to say the word.
He shakes his head.
So I’m not a zombie. But Liam bit me, right? Yep, I’m sure of that part. My fuzzy brain tries to process everything. Then my fuzzy tongue tries to find words for my thoughts.
“He didn’t give me the virus.” It’s a statement, not a question. Liam hadn’t betrayed me after all. I knew it. I knew he wouldn’t try to zombify me.
“Oh, he passed on the virus, all right. The jackass,” Deke grumbles under his breath. “You’ve been fighting it off for…” he checks his watch, “about fourteen hours now.”
“Fourteen hours? I’ve been out of it for fourteen hours?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘out of it.’ More like ‘not lucid’ for fourteen hours.”
Not lucid. Nice words for “acting crazy.” Not a good feeling, to hear you’ve been insane for an extended period of time, but have absolutely no recollection of it. I remember the breezeway, running through the soccer field, throwing Deke his bat, and after that? Nothing.
“What did I do?” I ask Deke. “You know, when I was behaving like a lunatic?”
“Didn’t do much. If you’ll notice, you’re tied down.”
I examine my body, still feeling like I’m stuck in a dream. Ropes twist around my wrists and ankles. Secure, but not uncomfortable. I don’t have the strength to worry about getting free. Besides, who knows if I’m safe or not? Maybe it’s not such a good idea for me to be free. Maybe I’m still a threat. Maybe I just haven’t changed yet.
“After I blacked out—this last time—did I try to bite someone? Did I try to bite you?”
“Nah, nothing like that. Mostly thrashing around. Hollering crazy, incoherent stuff.” Deke’s voice gets softer. “Saying his name a lot.”
I don’t have to ask whose name. How embarrassing. I make a mental note to never do that again.
I blink a few times, and my eyes try to focus. Deke sits on the ground near me, picking at his bat. Dried blood sticks to the handle. I wonder if it’s Liam’s blood.
“You said my name once, too.”
“What?” My eyes open fully.
“Yeah, said my name. Then told me I’d better get you out of the school or you’d bash my face in.” Deke smiles.
I smile back. “Sounds lucid to me.”
He laughs. “Crap, Donna, I’m so glad you’re okay. In fact, you seem better than okay. You seem like…like yourself.” The grin disappears as his expression grows serious. “You really had me worried there for a while.”
I hate asking the next question. “You sure I’m okay? What if I’m one of those weird half-freaks, like Saul? And Liam?” I shudder.
He leans closer, studying my face. “Well, how do you feel? Hungry for some flesh?”
He’s kidding. Or not.
“Are you serious?” I breathe.
“Yeah, I’m afraid so.” He holds out one leg. “How ‘bout it? Do I look delicious?”
My knee-jerk reaction is a resounding ick, but I have to be careful about this, or I might end up hurting someone. I force myself to think about biting a person, really think about it, for a few seconds. I try to picture Deke’s leg as a tasty piece of fried chicken. Nope. Doesn’t work. I have absolutely zero desire to eat my friend.
“I’m ready for an enormous cup of coffee,” I tell him, slightly giddy with the realization I’m not a zombie.
“You’re sure about this?” His eyes are deadly serious.
I nod. “Positive.”
He cuts the ropes off my wrists. I rise up, very slowly, just in case my body’s not quite ready for physical activity. I still feel rough, but all in all, I’m doing better than I should be fourteen hours after being bitten. I pull back my shirt to examine the bite. It’s bruised and ugly and somewhat green. It’s also oozing pus. Nice.
“Ew.” I try to fight the bad taste in my mouth. “Guess my bikini days are over.”
Deke chuckles softly. He knows I’m better, since I’m asking for coffee and making lame jokes.
The whole situation is surreal. If Liam bit me, and obviously, he had, and if he passed the virus, which Deke said he did, well, why didn’t I get infected? There must be a logical solution why I’m still alive and unchanged.
“Deke, did you give me some kind of antibiotic or antivenom or anything like that?” I ask, rubbing my chafed wrists.
Deke shakes his head.
“Did I not get enough virus in my system to make me change?”
Again, Deke shakes his head.
“Deke, please quit shaking your head and give me some answers.”
“I wish I knew what to tell you. I don’t understand everything, either.”
I sigh. “Well, what happened after I conked out?”
“After you conked out,” he starts, then pauses, like he’s rolling the words around in his mouth. “Hm…that may be a story for another day.”
“Deke?” I’m getting totally frustrated now. “My whole life hangs on the balance of what happened during these last fourteen hours, and I can’t remember a single thing. Give me at least one fricking clue why I’m still here—alive and normal.” I struggle against the ropes around my ankles. The motion makes me woozy.
“Whoa, Donna, relax.” His fingers untangle the knots, and the last of the ropes fall away. “There’s no big mystery. You were delirious. Screaming. Moaning. Crying. Damn. I thought you were going to die. But you didn’t. Your body was fighting off the infection. I’ve had fourteen hours to analyze this. The upshot is—I think you’re immune to the virus.”
Chapter Twenty-five
I sit for a long moment, letting Deke’s words soak in. Immune. I can’t even begin to wrap my head around that one.
“Can you stand yet?” His face is a mask of concern.
“Not sure.”
My vision unfogs and I recognize the building we’re in. The public library. Upstairs, in the non-fiction area. Near the stuff about UFOs and voodoo and Bigfoot. Deke’s favorite section. A pile of books is stacked on the floor near us. He must have been reading while I was unconscious.
As I fight off a sudden wave of dizziness, another worry presses in. “Any news from Dad?” I have to force the question out of my lips; I’m terrified what the answer might be.
“Yeah,” Deke’s face splits into a smile. “They called while you were, uh…asleep.”
I exhale in a huge rush of relief. I was half-expecting him to say he hadn’t heard from them. “Deke, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Well, you were sorta mentally fuzzy, and trying to figure out if you were—”
“They’re not hurt, are they?”
“They’re fine,” Deke grins. “And they found a ship. In Jacksonville.”
“No way!”
“Way. The Naussau Belle.”
I roll my shoulders, trying to release the kinks in my neck. “I kinda remember the Nassau Belle. Smallish ship, right? Based out of Freeport? Didn’t we take a weekend trip on it last year? After Dad did some survey work?”
He nods, and says in a pseudo-snotty voice, “A newer vessel. A tad gaudy, but comfortable
.”
“Hmph. As if we’re going to be picky about the ship that rescues us from this nightmare.”
“No burrito bar,” he reminds me.
“Shame.”
“Gran’s gonna call when they get closer, so we can figure out the details, but they should dock sometime tomorrow morning. I’ve also talked with Veronica a few times—to let her know where we are. And that rescue’s on its way.”
My mind flashes to the kids still trapped at school. Quentin, Veronica, Tara, and Fabio. The memory of their faces seems to clear away the last of my mental cobwebs.
“So we’re in the library, right? And the four of them are still at the arts building?”
“Correct.”
“Any idea how we’re gonna pick up our friends for the car pool?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.” He sticks out a hand. “Ready?”
“I guess.” Deke hauls me to a standing position. I wobble for a second, waiting to find my balance. Deke puts his hand on my waist, steadying me.
“Do you hurt anywhere?”
“Yeah.” I loop my arm around his solid shoulders. “Weird places. My neck, under my arms…”
“Lymph nodes,” he explains. “They drain off the infection. Probably your groin hurts, too.”
“Yeah, but I was going to be ladylike and not mention that.”
“You, ladylike? Now there’s a first.”
I punch him in the arm.
“Ow! Jeez, you babysit a nutcase for fourteen hours and she repays you by acting so sweet and grateful.”
My eyes widen. “You stayed with me the whole time?”
He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug, like it was no big deal. But I know how gut-wrenching that would’ve been for him, to watch me flounder on the floor, unsure whether I’d live or die. No wonder he seems tired.
Holding Deke for support, I take a few tentative steps. “So, you’re not going to tell me all the embarrassing stuff I said when I was out of it?” I ask.
Donna of the Dead Page 20
