The White Rabbit Chronicles

by Gena Showalter

  I studied our new location. No longer was the floor carpeted with thick, soft fibers. There was dark, dank tile. There were several metal tables, some with cuffs for wrists and ankles—and there were drains underneath every single one of them.

  I thought...I thought she’d brought me to some sort of...torture chamber.

  Trembling, I reached into my purse and palmed the blade. Before I could talk myself out of searching for clues, I slipped past her, doing my best to hide the metal behind my arm.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she whispered. Whispered, yeah, but still her voice echoed.

  “Probably not,” I muttered.

  “So you don’t think Reeve’s dad needs to buy a case of Febreze? Well, then, do you think he does secret surgeries down here?”

  “I think it’s none of your business,” a male voice boomed from behind us.

  Oh...crap.

  I felt like a Tilt-A-Whirl as I jerked around, facing off with the intruder. He was only a little taller than me, which put him at just above five-eleven. His pin-striped suit did not look anything like the suits my dad had sometimes worn to church the few times he’d attended. He had salt-and-pepper hair, skin tanned to a deep bronze and weathered with a few thin lines, though not unattractively.

  For an older guy, he was pretty hot—and he was eyeing us like we were rats in a cage.

  With my free hand, I grabbed Kat by the forearm and shoved her behind me, and maybe I used too much force because she stumbled and humphed. “Who are you?” I demanded, more with bravado than anything.

  “I am the owner of this house,” he said at the same time Kat muttered, “Say hello to Reeve’s dad.”

  Kat peeked out from around me and waved. “Hey, Mr. Ankh.”

  His jaw clenched as he nodded in greeting. “Kathryn.” To me, he snapped, “And who are you?”

  You’ve faced zombies. This is nothing. “I’m Reeve’s friend.”

  “Yes, I guessed that. What is your name and what are you doing down here with Kathryn?”

  “We were just looking for a quiet place to talk, honest,” Kat said, and even I wanted to believe her. All that innocence in her tone seemed impossible to fake.

  Footsteps sounded, and I was shocked to see Dr. Wright enter the room behind Mr. Ankh. “You shouldn’t have allowed your daughter to—” Lips glossed a bright red clamped shut when she spotted me. Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Alice Bell, what are you doing down here?”

  Kat clutched and twisted my shirt, whispering, “Is that Dr. Wright?”

  Neither adult turned to her but continued to focus on me.

  “It’s Ali,” I said.

  “I am still waiting for a confession,” Mr. Ankh said. “After all, you are the one who arrived with—” a sneer “—Justin Silverstone, are you not?”

  “Justin Silverstone?” Dr. Wright asked with a clear flare of dislike. Every day she’d wrapped her slight frame in some sort of business suit. Tonight she wore a soft, flowing dress completely at odds with her take-charge demeanor. Was she the new girlfriend of the week? “Cole won’t be happy about that.”

  Kat pinched me on the arm.

  I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I was too confused. Dr. Wright, the principal of Asher High, was hanging out with Reeve’s father in a room full of dried blood and gurneys, but her biggest concern was my escort?

  Okay. She might care more about her students than her social life...even though her social life might just get her killed. Unless...had Mr. Ankh kept zombies down here?

  Yes, I decided a moment later, he had. That smell was too distinctive to spring from trash or mold.

  Did Cole know about this?

  I didn’t have to think about that for long, either. Yes, Cole knew. Otherwise he wouldn’t have let his entire crew take the night off and come here, not even with the Blood Lines. This had to be a safe place for zombie slayers. Which meant Reeve’s father was on our side. Which meant Dr. Wright was on our side, too, since she was with him, here, in this room.

  And if all the slayers hated Justin—and they must, considering the way they’d reacted to the mere mention of his name—I had to wonder if he was pro-zombie or something.

  What could Mr. Ankh possibly do down here, though? Study the zombies? Experiment on them? Was that even possible?

  “Ali, you have some explaining to do, and I will not tolerate lies, nonanswers or evasions,” Dr. Wright said, her dark gaze trying to X-ray its way to my brain. “Did Justin tell you to come down here?”

  Well, well. There was confirmation of my suspicions. “No, he didn’t. And now I’d like to return to the party with Kat.” No reason to get her tangled up in this. Cole and crew would blame me. “We’re very sorry to have disturbed you.”

  “You’re not walking away that easily,” she said right before Mr. Ankh said, “Very well, you may go. But if anything like this happens again...”

  You’ll regret it, I finished for him. “It won’t.”

  Dr. Wright had stiffened after Mr. Ankh overrode her decision, but she didn’t protest.

  I reached back and grabbed Kat’s hand. She remained silent as I dragged her out. Both Mr. Ankh and Dr. Wright moved aside to allow us to pass. I held my dagger tight and maintained as much distance as possible, just in case I’d miscalculated and either one of them decided to attack.

  “Classic,” Kat said with a giggle the moment we reached the top of the stairs. “That was so wild! You were all, I don’t care what you do to us, I’m strong and brave. And they were all, like, oh, we’ll do plenty, we’re stronger.”

  By tomorrow, when she retold the events to others—and she would—I would have punched Reeve’s dad in the face and tied Dr. Wright to a chair. True story.

  “What do you think they were doing together? Because Dr. Wright is soooo not his type.”

  Discussing recent zombie activity? Planning a zombie attack? “Wish I knew,” I replied honestly.

  In the distance, I heard shrill chanting, my ears twitching as I tried to listen. Was that...fight fight fight?

  Kat must have heard it, too, because she paused and clapped. “Five dollars says it’s Cole.”

  “No way,” I said, even though I suspected the worst. If you don’t go inside, you’ll be eating your teeth. You know I can make you do it. I have before.

  “Are you kidding? It’s always Cole.”

  We raced through the house. When we reached the living room, the cheers were so loud I cringed. I shoved my way through the crowd, only to discover that yes, Kat was right. It was always Cole.

  The fight du jour? Cole versus Justin. Punches were being thrown and furniture overturned as the two rolled and flew throughout the circle of chanting teenagers. Justin had rage on his side, but Cole had experience and brute force.

  “Fight, fight, fight,” everyone continued.

  Cole could have pinned Justin in seconds, could have ended the entire ordeal. Instead he allowed himself to be hit in the face multiple times, in the stomach a few more, and in the groin—well, not at all. Only when Justin got down and dirty did Cole retaliate and really start to hammer at him.

  Frosty worked his way to Kat and jumped in front of her, shielding her just in case the action was tossed her way. I spotted Mackenzie—finally!—and even Trina, their fists pumping toward the ceiling, their mouths stretched in wide grins. They were loving this.

  “Enough!” I shouted over the cheers.

  Neither boy looked my way or acted as if they’d heard me. Cole threw two more punches, only two, but that was enough. The hard double tap sent Justin to his back, where he stayed, unconscious.

  I rushed forward, intending to check on him, but the dark-haired girl who enjoyed glaring at me on the bus beat me to his side. She felt for his pulse, then patted his cheek in an attempt to wake him up. He moaned, but failed to rouse completely.

  “Is he okay?” I asked.

  She looked up and scowled. “Stay away from him. You and your boyfriend have done enough.�
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  “Is Justin okay?” I insisted.

  “As if you really care.” She returned her attention to Justin and smoothed her fingers over his cheek, clearly done with me.

  I had no idea who she was, but I wasn’t going to try and take over. Obviously she would take good care of him. Turning, I searched for Cole. He was still in the center of the room. Little beads of sweat dotted his brow. He was panting, blood smeared under his nose and on his chin, hands curled into fists. Mackenzie and Trina stood beside him, patting him on the back for a job well done.

  He must have sensed my gaze because he found me in an instant.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What?” he said.

  I knew only because I’d read his lips. There was too much noise and too much distance between us to hear each other. He motioned toward the kitchen with a tilt of his chin, and I nodded.

  I turned to Kat to let her know I was taking off, but she had her arms locked around Frosty and the two of them were kissing as if they needed the other’s oxygen supply to subsist.

  O-kay. Feud over? All forgiven? I hoped so. I liked them both. And maybe then Frosty would go back to being on Team Ali. Maybe he’d finally open up and tell Kat what was going on with the zombies, and I wouldn’t have to hide anything from her. We could remain friends.

  Cole beat me to the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter, waiting for me, his booted foot tapping impatiently.

  “Let’s clean you up,” I said.

  “No.” He took my hand and tugged me to a spacious pantry—already occupied. As light flooded into the darkened area, sending the shadows diving for cover, Reeve and—oh, wow. Bronx. Reeve and Bronx jumped apart as if a bomb had just detonated between them.

  Their lips were swollen and red and damp. Twin pink circles appeared on Reeve’s cheeks as she peered over at me. I took pity on her.

  “I saw nothing—except when I mention this to Kat. You know I’ve gotta tell her, or we’ll both suffer. But you might want to go check out your living room,” I said. “Cole and Justin had a slight, uh, disagreement and, well, they broke some stuff. Also, your dad is downstairs.” Waaay downstairs.

  Her mouth dropped open wider with each ball of information I tossed, and she finally pushed her way out of the pantry.

  Bronx attempted to follow her, but Cole stepped into his path.

  “You know you’re not supposed to hang with her.”

  A muscle ticked under Bronx’s eye. He remained silent.

  “And yet you thought it’d be okay with her father if you stuck your tongue down her throat?”

  Still refusing to answer, Bronx shoved his way out.

  “Why can’t he hang out with—” I began.

  “Nope. Not discussing that with you.” Cole snapped the door closed, every shadow returning.

  Giving him a minute to calm down and myself a moment to adjust to the dark, I stood still and quiet. Bit by bit, I began to make out the different areas of the storage closet. As a whole, the enclosure was bigger than my bedroom. There were cans of food on the shelves, Crock-Pots and toasters on the floor. There was a ladder, and other things guys found necessary.

  “Reeve’s dad texted me,” Cole said, “and told me you were downstairs.”

  “Is he one of you?”

  Several beats of silence passed before he admitted, “Yes. He and my dad are friends, and he funds our activities. He can’t see the zombies, but he’s seen what they do to us and helps us when we’re bitten—on the condition that Reeve stays out of it.”

  Good to know. “And Dr. Wright?”

  “She knows. We needed someone on our side at school, and she was it.”

  As I’d suspected. Now, switching gears. “What was the fight about?”

  “Justin asked me where you were. I told him I didn’t know. He told me to go to hell and stay away from you. I told him you’d made your choice and he needed to deal.”

  “So he hit you?”

  “No. He said you belonged on his team and if I tried to recruit you you’d be killed.”

  “So you hit him?”

  “I did. Broke his nose, too.”

  I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Let’s backtrack a little. He has a team?”

  He snorted. “You mean he hasn’t asked you to help him?”

  “Help him with what?” As with Mr. Ankh and Dr. Wright, I had my suspicions.

  “The zombies.”

  “No. Until a few minutes ago, I had no idea he was involved.”

  “He’s not involved. He’s a menace.”

  And Cole was one big bowl of confusion. “You’re not making any sense. He’s either involved or he isn’t. Which is it?”

  Cole banged the back of his head on a shelf, sighed and said, “Listen up, because I will never repeat this. I shouldn’t be talking about it now, especially considering you’re dating him.”

  I stomped my foot. “I’m not—”

  “Justin used to be one of us,” he said, causing me to shut my mouth. “Then he met up with a group of people who claimed to want to destroy the zombies but have only ever tried to stuff the evil spirits inside of living bodies. Think possession,” he added, probably sensing my increased confusion. “Remember the way you returned to your body?”

  “No, actually, I don’t.” I’d been in too much pain.

  His chuckle was without humor. “That’s right. I had to do it for you. Anyway, these people say what they’re doing is research to discover ways to counteract the zombies’ infection, but how can we believe them when they’re willing to hurt innocent people to do that research?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “After Justin told me about them, I visited their lab, saw people in cages, each living person in different stages of decomposition. And we’re pretty sure those researchers are the ones who burned down my old house.”

  Labs. Cages. Decomposition. Burning houses! “Justin works for the people in the hazmat suits?” Who were, apparently, just as evil as the zombies.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, he hasn’t mentioned them to me, I promise.” I wouldn’t give him a chance to mention them, either. I wanted nothing to do with anyone who was hoping to stuff something evil into something good.

  Cole pinched the bridge of his nose. “Justin will tell them about my interest in you, so they’ll be contacting you sooner or later, in some way or another. They’ve contacted all of us. If you refuse to help them, they’ll try and convince you and it won’t be a pleasant experience.”

  “I don’t care.”

  A heavy pause. Then “Your grandparents will care.” A sigh. “Maybe you’d be better off walking away from me, Ali.”

  What? “No!”

  “Your life is about to change. You’ll be out almost every night. Probably be caught by your grandparents, definitely in constant trouble. Your free time will disappear, and your grades will drop. You’ll be hurt all the time, probably suffer broken bones. Sometimes you might even hope to die.”

  “So?” I would be killing the very creatures that had destroyed my family—I would be stopping those creatures from destroying other families. That was a fair enough trade.

  “So. I don’t want that for you. If you aren’t careful, social services will come knocking on your grandparents’ door. They’ll accuse them of beating you. That’s happened to a few of us.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I said on a trembling breath.

  “You’ll never be careful enough. Besides, training you will take too much time and until you know what you’re doing, you’ll only be a liability.”

  He was saying this to see if it would scare me away. Right? He needed to know I was strong enough to defend myself verbally. Right? “You were a liability at one point. So was Frosty, and so was Mackenzie. But you learned, and you thrived. I can do that, too.”

  “Besides everything else,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “you will make enemies other than Justin if you hang out with me, and they will strike
at you every chance they get.”

  Okay, yeah. He’d heard the rumors. “I don’t care,” I repeated.

  I wished I could see his expression as he said, “Easy enough to say now, but one day you’ll crumble. I’ve seen it happen one too many times.”

  “Well, that day isn’t today,” I blustered on, trying to ignore the hurt inside me. Hurt that was swirling, burning. He wasn’t testing me. He just wanted me gone.

  “When it comes, and it will, it won’t be with me. We’re done.”

  There it was. A straight-up admission. He wanted nothing more to do with me. Well, fine. Okay. I’d go.

  But...I didn’t want to go.

  “Is Mackenzie the one who’s telling everyone I nailed you and all your friends?” I asked. He owed me that much.

  He shook his head, the darkness giving way as a small beam of light seeped from the crack in the door. How menacing he suddenly appeared, the expression I’d wanted to see haunted...and oh, so haunting. “That’s not her style. She’s very up-front in her dealings. When she dislikes someone, she doesn’t go behind their back. She gets in their face.”

  Unconvinced, I splayed my arms. “Who else would tell everyone I slept with you and all your friends in the same night? Who else would know I was with your friends?”

  “I don’t know who did it, but I’ll find out and take care of him. Or her.”

  What he didn’t say: the damage was already done, and there was nothing either of us could do to fix it. “I don’t need you to fight my battles, but a little—” concern, compassion, fury on my behalf “—support would have been nice.”

  I could hear him grating his teeth. “If I thought, even for a second, that Mackenzie was responsible, believe me, I’d have her in here and on her knees begging for your forgiveness. Just trust me on this. She’s not as bad as you think.”

  “Do you still like her?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  “Not the way you mean.” No hesitation from him, at least. “When she moved in with me and my dad, I broke things off.”

  My mind snagged on two things. The first squeaked out unbidden. “You’re shacked up with your ex-girlfriend?” The second I refused to voice. If he’d broken things off with Mackenzie only because she’d moved into his home, he could still have feelings for her—could have been using me.