Alice in Zombieland wrc-1

by Gena Showalter

  “While I’m fighting, when I know I’m going for a death blow, it does it on its own.”

  “You don’t even have to think about it?” Wow.

  “Not anymore. Now listen.” His voice deepened with a disobey-and-suffer sternness. That tone was probably the reason he was leader of the group. “Do not practice that at home. You’ll accidentally burn down your grandparents’ house. For the time being, one of us will take care of killing any zombies you disable. But if your hand lights up on its own while we’re out fighting, don’t try to stop it. Just go with it. We’ll stay out of your way.”

  Subtext: I could accidentally hurt each one of his friends. Awesome.

  “Also,” he continued. “While practicing, never leave your body in a place people can find you. While fighting, allowances sometimes have to be made. Try not to, but if you must, do it. But never speak while you’re out. You can cause all kinds of damage, and it’s better not to risk it.”

  “Got it.” Although, with practice, we could train ourselves to say only the right things. No need to mention that little gem now, while his lips were probably throbbing from my accidental command for silence.

  “Frosty,” he called.

  Frosty knew what Cole wanted without having to be told. He stopped the machine he was on, hopped off and grabbed a bottle of water, draining the contents in seconds.

  “Your turn,” Cole said to me.

  Well, what do you know? I’d get to run next to my least favorite person in the world.

  “Did you bring workout clothes?” Cole asked me.

  I licked my lips as I studied my shirt and jeans. I’d sweat through these in minutes and look ill instead of flushed with health like Mackenzie. “No.”

  “No worries. I bought you something.” There was a hint of relish in his tone. “Bathroom’s through there. I put everything you’ll need in your locker.”

  I had a locker?

  The bathroom was like every locker room in every high school across America. My cubbyhole was long and red and next to Cole’s. Inside rested a blue sports bra and the shortest, tightest pair of spandex shorts I’d ever seen, plus a pair of socks and running shoes.

  My cheeks heated as I changed. At least he hadn’t bought me any panties.

  When I emerged, I felt naked. All of my stomach was bared, as well as the full length of my legs. I was probably flashing a little cheek, too. Cole, who was waiting for me next to the water cooler, whistled as he looked me over. Once again I felt like a bug under a microscope, only this time I felt like a bug wearing pasties and a thong.

  “Nice.” The relish had been replaced by a husky note of approval.

  “Your version of playing dress up sucks,” I muttered, tugging on the hem of the shorts.

  He barked out a laugh. “I disagree. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll be stripping down, too.”

  “It doesn’t.” I’d probably mumble incoherently and drool.

  His wanton grin suggested he knew exactly what I’d been thinking. “Come on, let’s get you started.” He led me to the treadmills.

  Though Mackenzie never glanced in my direction, she stiffened, even stumbled. I checked out her time. She’d been running for an hour and a half. I also checked out her speed and her incline, and set mine to something faster and higher, though I waited to press Start. I wanted Cole gone first.

  Of course, he lingered. “Ignore each other,” he commanded sternly.

  She snickered. “Yes, Daddy.”

  His eyes narrowed, but his focus remained on me. “Be careful. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but Mackenzie beat me to it. “This is truly pathetic. Both of you should be embarrassed.”

  “Do I need to talk with you outside, Kenz?”

  He had a nickname for her. How wonderful.

  “No,” she snapped.

  “Good.”

  She added, “If I have to listen to another one of your lectures about making friends with the new girl I’ll feed myself to the zombies.”

  “You won’t need to. I’ll ring the dinner bell and hand you over.” With that, he strode away, finally leaving us alone.

  Get it together, Bell.

  For the first ten minutes of my own run, Mackenzie and I both obeyed him. I don’t know why she did, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Cole. He’d removed the wife-beater and exchanged his jeans for black mesh shorts that hung low on his waist, revealing a trail of dark hair from his navel to the shorts, before joining Lucas at the weights.

  His muscles strained as he lifted the bar. Lowered. Lifted. Sweat began to pop up on his skin, dripping down…down…

  “I hope you’re enjoying his attention,” Mackenzie said, good behavior time plainly over. Her curling ponytail swung with her every pounding step. “It won’t last.”

  I wasn’t even sure I had his attention, not in the way she meant. “Just because you couldn’t keep him doesn’t mean other girls will have a problem doing so.” Brave words from a girl who’d never been on a real date with him.

  “Is this our little chat?” She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “I’m disappointed. I expected you to throw a punch at the very least, but I should have known you’d prove to be a coward.”

  “We’ll get to the punching, I promise you.” Already my thighs burned from the strain, my own sweat dripping down my chest and back. Did I allow myself to slow? Heck, no. “So why did you spread those rumors?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Oh, please. Unlike your boys, I’m not stupid when it comes to a pretty face.”

  “You think I’m pretty, huh? You’ve probably even had dreams about me.”

  Kat’s ego I adored. Hers I felt a blinding need to smack away. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky to still have all your teeth.”

  “How original. Why don’t you think before you speak? I’ve made no secret of my dislike for you. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I want you gone. Like now. But resorting to rumors about your sex life? Are you kidding me? I’m not twelve.”

  Not one time during her speech had she wheezed, the hooker. I was already struggling. “There’s no one else.”

  “I kinda love to break this to you, baby doll, but there are plenty of someone elses. A lot of girls at Asher think they’re brave enough to vacation on the wild side and hook up with one of my boys, and a lot of girls are denied. You weren’t denied, and I’m sure envy has taken hold.”

  “There’s a little flaw to your logic. No one talks about Kat, and she dated Frosty.”

  “Actually, she fell in love with me,” Frosty called from his spot at the side of the boxing ring, unashamed of the fact that he’d been eavesdropping. “And I thought I told you her own friends dropped her for a while. Plus, all the rumors said that I was awesome.”

  My hands curled into fists. “What’s the constant here?” I said to Mackenzie, making sure to lower my voice. “A girl dates one of your boys, and rumors are spread.”

  “First, don’t listen to Frost. Her friends might have dropped her, but no one ever spread rumors about her sex life. No one cared. Second, I. Didn’t. Do. It.”

  Something I knew from my dad’s training: emotions made people reckless. When people were reckless, they made mistakes. Not just physically, but verbally. Right now Mackenzie skirted the razor’s edge of fury. If I could push her over that edge, she might accidentally admit to what I was still certain she’d done. Maybe she’d even brag.

  So, I went the extra mile and unleashed my inner tigress. “Do you ever wonder what kids say about you behind your back? You live with the boys I supposedly slept with. You threaten anyone those boys show an interest in. That smacks of envy, too, don’t you think? No reason to reply. It does. My guess is, you’re still in love with Cole. I bet you even—”

  With a shriek, she launched herself off her treadmill and onto mine. We tumbled backward, her on top. When we landed, I took the brunt of the impact, oxygen bursting from my
mouth in a dizzying explosion. My head cracked against the concrete floor, and stars winked in front of my eyes.

  Is it sad that my first thought happened to be: Thank God I’m off the treadmill!

  She straddled my hips and threw the first punch, her knuckles slamming into my cheek. Another bout of stars, brighter this time, as my brain rattled against my skull.

  I didn’t wait for them to clear. I threw my own punch, right at her mouth, splitting her still-healing lip. Her head whipped to the side, blood spraying across the floor. I reached up and grabbed her by the nape, shoving her down and hefting myself over her. Punch, punch, a hard double tap.

  More blood, now dribbling down her chin. She tried to fight while horizontal, but strands of hair were in her eyes and her aim was off.

  I remembered Justin’s words about her inability to kick butt while on the ground. I could beat her senseless, right here, right now. But then, I’d never get any answers. I held up my hands and said, “We don’t have to do this. Just tell me—”

  “Argh!” She jerked upright, nailed me in the stomach, and sent me sprawling to my side.

  I fought for breath as I stood. “I’m going to—” Hard arms—warm, strong, familiar—banded around me and yanked me into an even harder body.

  “Enough,” Cole barked, the boom of his voice making me cringe.

  Bronx and Frosty grabbed Mackenzie.

  She struggled to free herself, desperate to reach me. “You think I don’t know what people say about me? You think I’d ever put someone else through that, even if I hated them?” Every word was spit at me.

  Funny thing. I began to believe her. Utter hurt radiated from her. Not from the punches I’d delivered, but from deep inside her. She had suffered. She suffered still.

  I sagged against Cole. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “For what I said. I’m sorry.”

  “Whatever.” The boys allowed her to wrench from their submissive hold. She stomped out of the barn, the door banging shut behind her.

  My shoulders drooped with the weight of my shame. How could I have been so blind?

  Well, I had my answer, didn’t I. I’d accused her of jealousy, but the emotion had been all mine. She was Cole’s ex. She lived with him. I had no idea if he still had feelings for her. I’d lashed out.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Cole said. He laced our fingers and led me to the locker room, where he lifted me onto the sink counter. He disappeared, then returned with a first-aid kit.

  Oh, great. The stitches in my arm had torn open. Blood flowed down, pooling in my palm. And now that I’d noticed, I felt the sting. On top of that, I also felt a terrible throb in both of my cheeks. (The ones on top.)

  “You tried to tell me. I should have listened to you.” Tears burned my eyes, and I lowered my gaze so he wouldn’t notice. The droplets spiked in my lashes. I wiped them away with a shaky hand—and came face-to-face with a piercing in Cole’s nipple.

  Uh, hello. Why hadn’t I noticed that before?

  “Yeah, you should have.” He snipped away the threads, cleaned me up, numbed the skin with some kind of ointment, then sutured the wound. Even with the ointment, it felt like a hundred bees had decided to play Where Do You Hurt Most with my arm, but I merely bit my lower lip and endured.

  “You’ve had to do this before,” I remarked. He had a steady hand, knew where to thread the needle, when to clip the ends.

  “Yeah,” he repeated. “Even on myself. We all have.” When he finished that, he wrapped the lower half of my arm with gauze. And when he finished that, he flattened his hands beside my hips, put his body between my legs and leaned into me, peering deep into my eyes. “Are you okay? Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Then he kissed me.

  And it was just like before. I lost my mental hold on my surroundings and completely focused on Cole. On his mouth, pressing into mine. On his tongue, dueling with mine. On his taste, so sweet and addictive, like strawberries and chocolate. On his scent, a dark, rich spice. On his body, warm and strong and all around me, caging me in.

  I had no thoughts of resisting. My arms wound around him, drawing him even closer. We were flush against each other, and I loved it. I even wrapped my legs all the way around him and locked my ankles on his lower back, keeping him in place.

  I guess he was interested in me romantically.

  His fingers tangled in my hair, angling my head for better access. “You taste good.”

  “Talk later. Kiss now.”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  There was something so familiar about our words, but at the moment, I couldn’t reason out what. Didn’t care why. There was only here and now and him. He was shirtless, and oh, glory, I could feel every ridge of his muscles, every bump from his scars, even the cold metal piercing his nipple.

  “What me to stop?” he rasped.

  “No. Yes. I—”

  His hold on me tightened, and I—

  “O-kay,” an irritated voice said from beside us. “This isn’t what I expected to find.”

  Cole released me, spun and faced the intruder, staying in front of me to blockade me from a possible threat.

  His dad stood in the entrance. “Heard there was a catfight,” Mr. Holland said. Tall and menacing and now—amused?

  Someone kill me. Now!

  “No harm done,” Cole said easily.

  Mr. Holland scraped the tip of his boot against the wall beside him. “I see that.”

  Please, please, please kill me.

  “We were just heading out,” Cole added after clearing his throat.

  Mr. Holland waved toward the door. “Well, then, don’t let me stop you. Go.”

  I scrambled off the counter, moved around Cole and beat feet, never looking back.

  * * *

  One huge difference between living with an all-seeing dad and unaware grandparents was bedtime. Dad hadn’t had one, but Nana and Pops were tucked in by nine. The “early bird special,” they called it. This saved me from having to drug them, as Cole had warned me I might have to do in order to sneak out.

  At nine-thirty, Cole stepped into my backyard. Cole, who had kissed me. Cole, who had refused to discuss it afterward. Okay, fine. I had refused.

  Cole, who was driving me flipping crazy.

  At nine thirty-three I was outside the house and standing beside him—and the rank scent of rot coated the air.

  As Emma had warned, zombies were on their way.

  Nervousness blended with anticipation. I had spent several hours practicing the spirit-out-of-body thing, and I was getting quite good. I wasn’t going down easily tonight.

  “I can’t spare anyone tonight, I’m sorry, so I put up so many traps nothing will get past your gate, okay?” Cole grabbed my arm and bolted into a full-blown sprint, forcing me to keep up or be dragged. “Don’t step anywhere I don’t step.”

  “I thought we were fighting them here,” I gasped out. There was a full moon tonight, the large golden orb surrounded by a long stretch of black sky. There were clouds but no stars that I could see.

  “Frosty spotted the first wave of them already and stayed on their tail. They’re headed to your house, but we want to see if they’ll follow you.”

  A question I’d like to know the answer to as well. “And if they don’t?”

  “I’ll be notified and we’ll return.”

  We broke out of the forested alley, his Jeep waiting at the curb. Bronx was at the wheel, his hair hidden under a dark bandanna, just like mine. Cole practically threw me inside, then slid in beside me. The tires gave a little squeal as we started down the road.

  Reminded me a little too much of the night my family had died. How my dad had tossed me in the car, how I’d had to scramble to get buckled in. I will stay calm. This night was different. It would end differently, too. Though it was pitch-black inside the vehicle, I could make out an arsenal of guns, crossbows and swords.

  Zombies were gonna die tonight, not us.

  “You ar
med?” Cole asked me.

  “Yes.” Before he’d driven me home, he’d given me a switchblade and a double-edged dagger. Tomorrow I would learn the basics of wielding a shortsword and shooting a crossbow. I couldn’t wait. Until then, I was to stick with what I knew.

  The Jeep swerved, nicked a corner and bounced me up and down.

  “Careful,” Cole said.

  Bronx was his usual talkative self—meaning, he said zero. Several sharp turns later, a stint outside the neighborhood and into another, the Jeep stopped abruptly at a curb. Cole hopped out, dragging me—and two of the swords—with him.

  He hustled me up a hill, through another cluster of trees and into a clearing. Bronx stayed close to my heels.

  “What do you want me to do?” Though I couldn’t see his friends, I suspected they were spread out, watching and waiting. I could smell the floral scent of Mackenzie’s shampoo, the musk of Haun’s cologne and almost everything else I’d breathed in at Cole’s house.

  A darkened cluster of clouds moved in front of the moon, creating a dull, almost reddish color. It was the perfect camouflage for us. We were dressed in head-to-toe black, and there were black half circles painted under our eyes. I had no idea why Cole had asked me to add the paint, but he and Bronx sported the streaks, too, so okay.

  “Tonight you watch and learn.” He threw the swords down, took hold of my arm and tugged me to a tree. He bent down and linked his fingers. “Up.”

  Using his hands as a stepladder, I climbed onto one of the branches and crouched. I palmed both of my blades. “Let me help,” I said. “There’s got to be something I can do.”

  He remained on the ground, those violet eyes pinning me in place. “We’re the last line of defense tonight, so we shouldn’t have to fight very many. If any,” he added. “Stay up there unless absolutely necessary. You’re still healing, and I should be able to handle any stragglers that make it our way.”

  “But—”

  “Because you’re working with daggers,” he interjected, “you’ll have to get up close and personal to render one immobile. If you get close, and they open your wound, you’ll bleed and weaken, and they’ll tear you up the rest of the way.”

  Okay, so, basically I was bait. “You shouldn’t have armed me if all you wanted me to do was watch.” The temptation to act would be too great.