The White Rabbit Chronicles

by Gena Showalter

  “Not Reeve, but Poppy and Wren. She was hanging with me, and I was getting her into trouble. They thought she would drag them down.”

  How dare they treat her that way!

  Uh, you might have to drop her, too.

  Oh, yeah. Guilt ate at me, a cancer without a cure.

  “Ali,” Frosty began. “Listen. I—”

  “Not now,” I interrupted. I had no idea what he planned to say, I just knew I couldn’t withstand another upset.

  “All right. But later.”

  “Later.” We parted ways, branching in different directions down the hall.

  After surviving second and third blocks and making Ms. Meyers happy with my full attention, I found Kat in the cafeteria at her usual table. The others weren’t with her. She was spinning a green apple on the tabletop. Today she wore a tank top and a pair of skinny jeans. I must not have ever seen her in a tank before. For the first time I noticed the pucker of scars on the inside of her elbows.

  Scars that reminded me of track marks.

  No way Kat did drugs. Just no way. I’d never believe it.

  Her skin was paler now than it had been over the weekend. Shadows formed half circles under her eyes, and her lips were chapped. I eased beside her. “Hey, you. How are you feeling?”

  She gave a jolt of surprise, her hand fluttering over her heart. Then she smiled at me, that perfect, wily smile of hers that drew me in, welcomed me and always put me at ease. “A little tired. Frosty must have sucked the life out of me when he sucked on my tongue. That, or he infected me with a flesh-eating bacteria.”

  “Gross!”

  “No. Fun.” She traced a heart around the apple. “He’s passed me three notes today already, asking me to go out with him this weekend, and he’s even vowed to tattoo my name on his butt if I say yes.”

  “Are you guys officially back together?”

  “Hardly. He hasn’t suffered enough.”

  I had a feeling she wasn’t as interested in his suffering as she was in protecting her heart. “So where are the girls?” I’d be nice, I decided. They’d wised up and gotten back into Kat’s good graces. That’s all that mattered.

  “Reeve is with Bronx, is my guess.” She motioned to Cole’s table with a wave of her hand. “Notice he’s missing from their crew.”

  “He could have gone home with Cole.” Because I seriously doubted Reeve’s dad had lifted the no-dating-slayers ban. “But...” I leaned in and whispered, “I saw them kissing at the party.”

  “What?” she squealed, clapping excitedly. “And you’re just now telling me? I should hate you forever!”

  “Sorry. I meant to.” I couldn’t tell her much, but I could tell her that. “Cole distracted me.”

  “We’ll have to tease her mercilessly, of course.”

  “Of course. I already warned her.”

  “Did she look like she was enjoying it? Did he look like he knew what he was doing?”

  “I only caught a glimpse.”

  Kat locked on something, or someone, just beyond my shoulder and nibbled on her lower lip, excitement falling over her features like a curtain. “Here comes Reeve. No Bronx. The other girls are with her.”

  The moment they sat down, their bags dropping to the floor, their food being spread out over the table, Kat was squirming in her seat, the secret clearly too much for her to contain.

  “Where have you guys been?” I asked.

  Reeve wouldn’t quite meet my eyes. “Nowhere.”

  “Chasing after Bronx,” Poppy said with a toss of her red hair, at the same time Wren said, “Having her heart torn to shreds. Now will someone please tell me what’s so special about the losers at this school? Or why all my friends chase after them, knowing their futures will be compromised?”

  “Will you please tell me why you’re so annoying sometimes?” Kat settled down, her excitement draining. “What’d he do, Reeve?”

  Wren humphed.

  “He found out I was going out with John, threw a fit, led me on and then told me to get lost, that’s what.” She tossed a bag on the tabletop and dug through the contents until she found a candy bar. “I don’t understand him.”

  At least he’d spoken to her.

  “Boys,” Poppy grumbled.

  Having troubles of her own? “Have you picked a candidate for your attention yet?” I asked, recalling how she liked to wait a few weeks to check out the entire sea. See? I could be nice.

  Wren buffed her nails, still clearly upset with Kat. “She has, and she was turned down flat.”

  “I was not! I haven’t given anyone a chance to turn me down. You’re the one who got dumped.”

  “For the last time, I dumped him.”

  Kat tossed up her arms. “Does no one keep me in the loop anymore? I’m more than a beautiful face, you know. I have ears. I like to listen. I know that’s hard to believe considering the gems that always come out of my mouth, but come on, try me at least.”

  If not for the sparkle in her hazel eyes, I would have thought her one hundred percent sincere. The other girls were bowing their heads in shame.

  “Sorry,” Poppy said. “I’ll call you later with the details.”

  “Me, too,” Wren said.

  I could take a lesson in manipulation from Mad Dog; she was a master. “I seriously think I might love you.”

  Nose in the air, she patted her hair. “I’ve seriously got to stop turning my girlfriends gay, but like I can really help it. It’s my animal appeal.”

  I covered my laugh with my hand.

  Wren threw a napkin at her, nailing her in the shoulder. “You better start doing ego checks.”

  “Why? Mine’s perfect.” Before Wren could respond, Kat leaned into me. “I forgot to tell you. I’ve started a rumor tree. Here. Look.”

  She withdrew a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to me. After I unfolded the thing, I could only gape. Name after name, arrow after arrow, with boxes and notes, filled the entire page.

  “I know you think Mackenzie started the rumors, but I also know how loyal Cole and the gang are to each other. They won’t believe Little Miss Love To Hate did anything wrong unless we can prove it. So, I decided to do a little tracking. I heard the rumor from Poppy,” she said, pointing.

  Red hair went flying as Poppy eagerly nodded. “I heard it from Wren.”

  Wren pushed to her feet and pointed to a table four rows over from ours. “And I heard it from Tiffany Chang. Hey, Tiffany. Wave.”

  Everyone looked over at her.

  “I said wave.”

  A heavyset girl with dark hair and a what’s-going-on expression waved, and Wren sat back down. “Her.”

  Kat picked up where she’d left off. “I asked Tiffany, and so on. I know, I know. I’m a genius, and I’m destined to be the best investigative reporter in the entire world. Too bad I want to be a trophy wife. Anyway, who knows if I’ll be able to find the first source, but I have to try.”

  With the time and effort required for such a task, and her absolute willingness to help me anyway, I was blown away. “Thank you,” I said, even though I knew the words weren’t adequate.

  “You’d do the same for me.”

  I would. I so would. “Okay, so, in keeping with the spirit of confession, I’m going to Cole’s house after school.” I said the words hesitantly, watching everyone’s reactions. Kat nodded encouragingly. Poppy tilted her head to the side, her eyes darkening. Reeve sighed wistfully, and Wren smiled with a mix of relief and...something else, something I couldn’t read. Not what I’d expected, though, after the way they’d once treated Kat. “Mackenzie and I have plans to talk. Maybe I’ll get a confession out of her and save you the trouble of investigating.”

  “So Justin is officially not a candidate for dating?” Wren asked, tracing a fingertip over a water ring Poppy’s soda had left.

  “He was never a candidate. We were friends, that was all.”

  “But you’re not anymore?” she insisted.

  “Nope.
” Apparently we were on opposite sides of a war.

  “Enough about Justin! I want to hear more about Mackenzie.” Kat clapped excitedly. “Tell me your talk with her is going to involve fists. Tell me you’re going to wipe the floor with her face!”

  “Well, I’m certainly going to try.”

  14

  Let’s Hear the Chorus of Pain

  As promised, Cole was waiting for me after school. He leaned against the back of his Jeep, arms crossed. His black hat shaded his face, and sunglasses shielded his eyes. He wore a wife-beater, displaying those massive biceps and grim reaper tattoos.

  When I reached him, I anchored my hands on my hips and glared. “Do not get into any more fights on my behalf.” I didn’t want him suspended—or worse. “Now give me your keys.”

  He gently flicked the end of my nose. “Haven’t you heard? I do what I want, when I want, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop me.”

  I could knee him between the legs and simply steal his keys, proving otherwise, but all I said was, “Believe me, I’ve witnessed that firsthand,” and held out my hands. “Now be a good boy and do what I want you to do.”

  He lifted the sunglasses and I saw a bright gleam in those violet eyes. “And what is it, exactly, that Little Ali wants?”

  Little Ali. Ugh. “I said give me your keys.” No reason to play nice. He certainly wasn’t. “And if you call me Little Ali again, I’ll smash your trachea the way I hear you like to do to others.”

  Suddenly suspicious, he snapped out a quick “Why?”

  “Because I hate it.”

  “Not the name. The keys.”

  “Hello. Because I want to stab you with them, why else?”

  “Why?” he insisted.

  Fine. “Because I need to practice my driving, and I promised my grandparents I would.”

  “You’re telling me...” The glasses slid back into place as he cupped the back of my neck and dragged me closer to him, peering down at me sternly. “That you don’t know how to drive?”

  “Of course I know how to drive. Now, if you ask me if I know how to drive well, the answer will be different.”

  He choked out a laugh, but backed away and tossed me the keys. “Just wait until the parking lot is empty before putting my precious life in danger.”

  As I climbed into the driver’s side, my gaze roved over the wide expanse of sky. It was still a lovely baby blue, with puffy white clouds spread out, intertwining, separating. I shouldn’t have looked, though.

  The rabbit had returned.

  Dread wound through me, because I now knew what it meant. “Zombies will come out tonight,” I said, monotone. And that they were coming on a night when I’d had no vision of a future with Cole...

  “I highly doubt it. They’ve come out too many times already, and they need to rest.”

  “Trust me. They’ll come.”

  “How do you know?”

  I wasn’t exactly sure how to explain Emma, so I said, “I just do.”

  He rubbed his hands over his thighs, the action jerky. “Fine. The entire group will go hunting tonight, just in case.”

  “Am I included in that?”

  He opened his mouth, looked at my face, closed his mouth. Nodded. “I guess you are.”

  “Good.” Bonus: I’d be out of the house and wouldn’t draw the zombies to my grandparents’ door.

  I buckled myself into the seat and started the engine. Hearing that roar startled me, bringing another worry to life. I was behind the wheel of a car. Soon I would be driving in the path of other cars and responsible for Cole’s life.

  Rationally, I now knew with absolute certainty that the rabbit had nothing to do with car wrecks, but that failed to calm me. I was shaking, sweat suddenly beading over my skin, and every time I inhaled, the air burned my throat and lungs.

  “You’ll do great,” Cole said.

  “If I don’t...”

  “I can shove you out of the car and take over. I’ll be safe, easy as that.”

  The joke worked, causing me to chuckle weakly. “Funny.”

  “You’ve got this, Ali.” He was all seriousness. “I have faith in you and okay, fine, more faith in myself. I’ll coach you all the way.”

  The pep talk worked. I could do this. I could. I wasn’t the same girl that had run away from Kat to walk home in the rain. I was stronger. I’d faced zombies several times and survived.

  At last the parking lot cleared, and I slowly reversed. Hey, Lord. Remember me? I could use Your help again. My stomach cramped as I shifted gears. Cole was patient with me, even when I barely edged the speedometer up to fifteen miles per hour and other cars were honking, then whizzing past us. A few drivers even gave me the finger and Cole nearly jumped out of his seat each time. However, a dark SUV followed us around several corners, content to go the same snail-like speed.

  “Justin’s people,” Cole said, probably noticing the number of times I’d glanced into the rearview mirror.

  “Great. House burners are on my tail.” Just what I needed. Another stress factor. “Will they try anything?” The SUV’s windshield was tinted so dark I couldn’t see anyone inside.

  “No. They just like to make their presence known. They’ll taper off at the next turn.”

  He was right.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Justin told me his boss paid you a visit.”

  “What are you doing talking to Justin?” he asked, messing with the radio dial.

  “Trying to get answers.”

  “From now on, get those from me.”

  “He’s in my class. I didn’t want to ignore him and—”

  “Ali. You don’t know him or what he’s capable of doing, telling, or warping. It’ll be better for all of us if you listen to me.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll ignore him.”

  The entire drive lasted forty minutes when it probably should have taken only ten. He lived in a neighborhood where the homes were spaced acres apart, and the houses themselves had a farmlike quality. Each had red-and-white wood, detached barns, wire fences, and fields of wheat instead of trees.

  Only when I threw the car into Park was I able to fully relax. We were safe. We were unscathed. Thanks again, Lord! Seriously!

  “I can’t promise we’ll ever use you for a hasty getaway,” Cole said, “but with a little work, you might be able to race my grandmother—while she’s on her scooter.”

  “I’m not usually that bad. I’m sorry. I just...the accident...on top of seeing the rabbit....”

  “What rabbit?”

  Well, crap. As emotionally wrung out as I was, I finally found myself explaining about the cloud, even pointing it out to him. I told him how I’d seen it each day before the zombies emerged, and how, the first time, I’d lost everyone I loved. How my dead little sister had appeared to me and told me she was somehow creating the cloud as a warning. Midway through, Cole reached over and began to massage the back of my neck, the way he liked to do to himself, offering comfort.

  “You don’t think I’m crazy?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Like I’m one to judge another person’s sanity.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Okay, how about this? No, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

  I chose to believe him. “Have you ever seen a witness? That’s what she called herself. Not a ghost, those don’t exist, and not an angel, those do, but a witness.” Like one of his slain friends, maybe.

  “No.”

  “Ever heard the term?”

  “Outside of a legal trial, no.”

  “Has anyone else?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Oh,” I said, my shoulders slumping.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, Ali. You can see zombies when not many others can. Seeing witnesses or whatever is probably no different than that.” He ruffled my hair, making me feel about three years old. “Now come on, we’ve got a lot to do.”

  After tossing him the keys, I exited the Jeep an
d headed toward the house. Halfway there, he was at my side, twining our fingers and tugging me toward the barn in back.

  “This way,” he said—and he refused to release me.

  We were holding hands as if we were a couple.

  The closer we got to the door, the louder I heard the grunts and groans coming from inside. I blinked, thinking it sounded like people were being tortured in there.

  Turns out, yes, they were being tortured. Only, they were doing it to themselves. Throughout the barn I saw workout equipment, a training mat and even a boxing ring, as well as all the boys who’d been hanging around Cole that first day of school, plus a few that hadn’t.

  Cole made the introductions. There was Lucas, who was gorgeous and black, and practically bench-pressing a bus. He had a house arrest anklet on, and yet, I was pretty sure I’d seen him at Reeve’s party.

  Derek, also black, stood at the end of a stall, shooting a dummy dressed to look like a zombie. Bronx hammered away at a punching bag. Brent, a blond, held it steady. Collins, a boy with a shaved head and house arrest anklet of his own, and Haun (Spike), an Asian boy with dark hair and eyes, were sword fighting, and, judging by the sound of metal clanging against metal, with real swords.

  A smorgasbord of hot, sweaty guys and warrior weapons. I’d stepped into every girl’s fantasy.

  Frosty and Mackenzie were running the treadmills. Trina and Cruz (Turd), a Hispanic boy with brown hair and a scar running down the side of his cheek, were in the ring, boxing without gloves. Aka punching the crap out of each other.

  As I stood there, taking everything in, I could make out a thousand different scents. Something floral from Mackenzie, something musky from Haun. Something fruity from Collins.

  “You guys do this every day after school?” I asked, trying to hide my nervousness.

  “Pretty much. Strength and stamina will save your life. Plus, we can take our weapons into the spirit realm, and they help us hobble the zombies for easier elimination.”

  “So I’ll be learning how to use them.”

  “Yes, but because of your injuries, you’re only doing spirit projection, the treadmill and target practice today. Once you heal, we’ll get you started with everything else.”