The White Rabbit Chronicles

by Gena Showalter

  Of all the kids, he needed medical attention the most and yet Mr. Ankh never even approached his bed. Dr. Wright, who cleaned and bandaged those with minor injuries, never even glanced at his bed. That could only mean...

  Cole unleashed a dark, dark curse that dripped with all kinds of venom and sorrow. He eased me onto a bed, and said to Mr. Ankh, “Trina and Haun are still out there, looking for...” His voice broke. He pressed his lips together.

  But Trina and Haun were lying on gurneys and—oh. No. They weren’t. Their bodies might be here, but in actuality they were in the forest still in spirit form.

  “I’ve already sent your dad out to get them,” Mr. Ankh said.

  Though her expression was as stern as always, Dr. Wright placed a gloved hand over her heart. “I’m sorry, Cole. He was a wonderful boy.”

  Cole bowed his head.

  “He’s not...he can’t be...” I said.

  “He is. He can.” I’d never heard such a raw tone from him. “We’ll find out in a few days whether or not his spirit moved on or became zombie.”

  There was no way to tell here and now? And was that really a possibility? No matter what, I did not want to wake up one day as an undead spirit corpse.

  “We’ll have to sneak his body into his home, into his own bed, and his girlfriend will be the one to report his condition in the morning. Word will spread that he died of the same disease as Boots and Ducky.” A bitter laugh left him. “Maybe it won’t be classified as ‘rare’ anymore, eh?”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I knew the devastation of loss, the sick feeling of realizing someone you loved had suffered greatly.

  “To a bed, Cole,” Mr. Ankh said before he could reply. “Let’s get you medicated.”

  Within minutes, both Cole and I were hooked to an IV. He had lapsed into silence, but I could feel the pain radiating off him in huge, twisting waves. I hadn’t known Brent well, but even I mourned his loss.

  “He wouldn’t have wanted to go any other way,” Collins said.

  Cole banged his head against his pillow.

  Dr. Wright walked by and patted his hand.

  My chin trembled.

  “You will not cry,” she said to me, and though the words seemed cruel, they were actually a kindness, strengthening me. “That’s not what’s needed right now.”

  “I know.” But...how many friends had Cole lost like this? How many more would he lose? And what about me? I’d get to know these guys better, probably come to love them, and then lose them, too.

  When Trina and Haun glided into the barn, both were fighting tears. I watched, the desire to cry rising all over again as they stepped up to their bodies and slipped inside, as if they were covering themselves with a shimmery blanket.

  “I can’t believe he’s dead,” Trina croaked. Red and black stained her bared biceps. Her hair, now flecked with dried blood, stuck out in spikes. There was a split in her upper lip, a bruise on her cheek, and a large knot on her jaw.

  A warm tear escaped and trickled down my cheek.

  I watched as Mr. Ankh gathered Trina in his arms and hugged her tight.

  Bronx, who’d arrived with Cole and me, had claimed the cot next to her. Silent, he rested his arm over his swollen, already blackened eyes. He, too, was covered in red and black, his blue hair a disheveled mess.

  Mr. Holland was the next to stalk into the barn. He made a beeline for his son. “I’m sorry. He was a good kid. We’ll honor him, like we’ve honored all the others.”

  Cole nodded stiffly, and another tear trickled down my cheek. “Take care of Ali,” he said, the hollowness of his voice enough to break my heart the rest of the way. “She took a lot of heat.”

  A pause, then Mr. Holland patted his son’s shoulder. “All right.” He turned to me and cleaned and bandaged me as gently as possible. “I hear you also took care of some business tonight.”

  “We all did.”

  “Modest? Really? I wouldn’t have guessed it of you.” He tossed the bloody bandages into a trash bin beside my bed. “So Mackenzie hacked her way free on her own? Frosty, too?”

  “I did what I had to do, what any one of the guys would have done for me.”

  “Yeah, but you did it without much training.”

  I sighed. “Is this the part where you accuse me of working with the bad guys?”

  The corners of his lips twitched with amusement, the same way Cole’s sometimes did. “No. You didn’t know where you were being taken for the ambush, so there’s no way you could have told them where to go. The suits followed the zombies like the zombies followed you.”

  Speaking of... “What are they planning to do with those zombies?”

  “Besides trying to stuff them into human bodies? I wish I knew.”

  After that, he walked away from me. The entire group fell into a prickly silence, everyone lost in their own thoughts. If only there was something I could say to comfort them, but I remembered my disdain for the doctors, nurses, friends and family who had offered me ridiculous platitudes after the accident.

  You’ll be okay. They would carry on, yes, but they would never forget their own sense of mortality.

  Time will heal you. Losing a loved one was like losing a limb. You were always aware of what you were missing, of what you used to have.

  I’m sorry. I was, but those words wouldn’t really mean anything to any of them. Their friend was gone, and they wouldn’t see him again until they died. That thought wouldn’t comfort them tonight.

  “The zombies have become more resilient,” Frosty said, shattering the quiet with a harshness he usually reserved for me. “The halogens used to send them running away. They didn’t run tonight.”

  “I don’t think they’re more resilient,” Cole said, his tone now as dark as it was hard. “I think they were that determined to reach Ali.”

  “But why?” I asked, baffled.

  No one had an answer for me.

  * * *

  The next few months passed in a daze. Brent hadn’t gone to Asher. He’d already graduated and had been living on his own, away from his family, so no one at school knew he was gone. No one understood why Cole and friends were all on edge, ready to snap at any moment.

  Cole held a small, private memorial service for Brent, and seeing him and the others, each more stoic than the last, break down over their friend’s death had affected me deeply. I’d sobbed like a baby.

  Sometimes all I could do was worry about who would be next to fall. Cole? We hadn’t had another vision, and still weren’t sure what that meant for us. What about Frosty? Just how would Kat handle his loss? Not well, that was for sure.

  But as I’d already learned, no matter what happened around us, life would always go on. Every day after school I worked out and trained with Cole. In the ring, I was never as good as I’d been in the field. I couldn’t fake the spring of adrenaline or the rush of fight or flight no matter what we were practicing.

  I was definitely the weak link.

  Cole tossed me on my butt countless times, nicked me with swords and daggers, but he hadn’t kissed me again. Not that I’d thought about that or anything. Really.

  I stayed up almost every night. If I wasn’t patrolling the forest around my house with Cole, I was setting traps for zombies. If I wasn’t setting traps, I was hunting for nests. If I wasn’t hunting nests, I was watching for monsters from my window or trying to decipher the rest of the journal.

  Two more passages had opened up for me, one about the first of the zombies, which Dr. Wright had already explained to me, and one about the first of the slayers, which she hadn’t. Those first slayers had not been able to leave their bodies and had had to learn to fight the zombies while in their natural form. But then, the death of one of their own had saved them. The zombies had eaten his spirit straight out of his body, and somehow an infection had spread, nearly wiping out the undead. Nearly. That’s all I’d been able to make out, but maybe that was for the best. Everything I learned confused me more.


  I’d finally broken down and showed the journal to Cole, but the pages had been coded to him—all of the pages. That meant I was somehow deciphering the words on my own.

  Cole had no idea how I had done it or who the author could be and had asked me to hand the entire thing over to his father for further study, but I’d refused. I couldn’t bring myself to part with it.

  Cole had argued with me, but in the end, he’d relented. He’d taken pictures of the pages, yeah, but he’d relented.

  There was never a dull moment for me, that was for sure, despite the fact that the zombies had stopped coming out. There hadn’t been a single appearance since the night they’d hunted me, and Cole thought it was because they were finally catching up on their rest. I’d speculated that Team Hazmat could have something to do with it, but he’d said his dad and Mr. Ankh were staking them out and there’d been no movement on their end, either.

  Home wise, my grandparents were not happy with me. I constantly fell asleep during class and my grades had dropped significantly. I’d been sent to the principal’s office twice, lectured, grounded, and taken back to the therapist.

  The first time I was sent to the principal’s office—and set free by Dr. Wright without any punishment, thank you—Wren and Poppy had dropped me as if I were radioactive waste.

  “We can’t afford to be associated with trouble,” Poppy had said. “Not when our every deed could be Tweeted online. No colleges will want us.”

  “We warned you this would happen,” Wren had said.

  Yeah, and she’d also smiled at me that day in the cafeteria, silently telling me to go for Cole. Which, I now knew, was because she’d wanted Justin Silverstone for herself. I’d seen them in the halls, holding hands. Apparently, they were Asher High’s new “it” couple.

  Kat had sided with me, and I loved her so much more for it. I’d never let her go now. Never. I didn’t care what Cole said.

  “At our very first meeting I told you that you’d be my number one,” she’d said. “And I never lie or exaggerate.”

  “True story,” I’d replied with a laugh.

  “Plus, how can I let you go when I’m so close to finalizing the rumor tree?”

  Oh, yeah. The rumor tree. I’d stopped caring about it, to be honest. I’d tried to make things up to Mackenzie for wrongly blaming her, but the most she’d given me was a dirty look.

  One day, during lunch, I’d had enough. “What’s your problem?” I demanded from across our table. Yep, I now sat with Cole’s group. “I said I was sorry.”

  Kat, whom I’d dragged with me, leaned toward Mackenzie and said, “Yeah. What’s your problem?”

  Flashing emerald eyes moved from me to Cole, who was at my other side. “Lift the ban, and let me handle this.”

  “Nope. The ban stays,” Cole said with a shake of his head.

  The not-hurting-Ali ban? “Go ahead,” I retorted, “lift it.”

  Mackenzie popped to her feet, leaned over and flattened her hands on the table, rattling the entire thing. “First, I don’t need your backup, cupcake. Second,” she said, glaring at Cole, “you can’t stop this forever.”

  “Actually, you do need my backup, Tinker Bell,” I said.

  She ignored me. “If you don’t want me yelling at your tasty treat, how about I tell her what you told me?” Finally her attention swung back to me. “Every time I ask him if he’s dating you, he says no. But then he gets around you, and well, you know the way he is with you.”

  I did, yes. Friendly. But that was it, nothing more. “Your point?”

  “I think he’s using you. Either that or he’s lying to me and himself. I only wonder what he’s saying to you.” She stomped out of the cafeteria, shoving kids out of her way.

  Multiple calls of “hey” followed her.

  I remained in place, one terrible fact sinking in. Mackenzie and Cole had talked about me, and quite a lot, considering she’d said “every time.”

  What else had been said?

  Had she asked him to get back together with her? Obviously she still loved him. But how did he feel about her?

  Whether they’d done anything together since I’d come into the picture, I didn’t know and shouldn’t have cared, but...yeah, I cared.

  “You should join her,” Kat said to Trina, and I knew she’d done it to remove attention from me. Any time I thought I couldn’t love her any more, she surprised me by winning another piece of my heart.

  Trina was eating a sandwich and never even glanced over at Kat.

  “Do you have to dive into every fight?” Frosty asked Kat. He’d been sitting beside Mackenzie, and now sat beside Trina—and tried to scoot away from her, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of Kat seeing him next to his alleged hook up. “Ali can handle herself.”

  “Do you hear that pesky buzzing noise?” she asked me, ignoring him.

  He gave a sad shake of his head. “You are such a child, Kitty Kat.”

  “Buzz, buzz.”

  “I have no idea what I ever saw in you,” he said.

  She gasped and threw an orange at his head. He easily dodged. “You saw all of my wonderful qualities, you butt!”

  A booming laugh escaped him. “You sure you’ve got any?”

  “I’ve got plenty, and you know it!”

  They weren’t officially dating, but anyone who saw them together knew they belonged with each other. She made him laugh, as proved, brought him out of his depression over Brent, and he distracted her from whatever had been bothering her. Too often lately she was pale and quiet, but anytime I asked, she waved me off and changed the subject.

  I wasn’t sure what to do about her. Heck, I wasn’t sure what to do about anything.

  * * *

  Later that day I found myself back in the boxing ring with Cole, both of us in our spirit form, our bodies resting peacefully on gurneys, but I was too distracted to learn anything. I was stuck on Kat and kept replaying some of my conversations with her, trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong with her.

  Wren and Poppy’s desertion hadn’t fazed her. “Honestly? I expected it,” she’d said. “I’d just hoped they’d learned how horrible their lives are without me the first time around.”

  She’d missed several more days of school, but when I asked her why, she’d said, “My mom thought it’d be cool to spend some time together,” and once again waved it off.

  “Ali!”

  The snap of Cole’s voice jerked me out of my head. Just in time to watch—unable to react—as he kicked out his leg, knocked my feet together, and sent me crashing to the floor.

  You need to concentrate, his expression said. We weren’t supposed to talk while we were like this.

  My bad, mine replied.

  He didn’t help me stand. He never did. I lugged to my feet under my own steam.

  Every second I spent in here was designed to make me stronger. And you know what? I liked him so much more for it. I needed to be stronger. The zombies—

  “Ali.” Cole’s booted foot kicked out again, and I crashed a second time, ending up flat on my back, the air blasting out of my lungs. He spread his arms, and I knew he was projecting “What did I just tell you?” at me.

  Sorry, I mouthed as I stood.

  He crooked his finger at me, a silent, You come at me for a change.

  I nodded to let him know I understood. Knowing how fast he was, I didn’t give myself a moment to ponder how best to attack him. I simply attacked. Even then, he had the upper hand. I punched, he blocked. I kicked, he sidestepped. The few times he caught my fist, he should have shoved me away, twisted my arm behind my back, something. But he didn’t. He just released me and let me come at him again.

  That aggravated me. For the first time since we’d begun training together, he wasn’t doing me any good. He was babying me.

  More punching, more blocking. More kicking, more sidestepping.

  “Wow. Gently remove your tampon, Holland, and throw her around like a man,” Frosty c
alled.

  I cringed at his volume, but only a little. I was adjusting to the magnification of my senses, even the intensity of the smells.

  Lucas and Collins—who left their bodies at home, rendering the arrest anklets they wore ineffective in spirit form, as suspected—flanked his sides and snickered.

  Cole glared over at Frosty.

  He should have known better. I had already drawn back my elbow, couldn’t stop and didn’t think to angle. So, I finally landed a punch. In the ring, his spirit stumbled.

  Over on the gurney, where his body rested, his head wrenched to the side, and blood spurted from his nose.

  Okay, I couldn’t help myself. I burst out laughing. I laughed so hard I nearly peed myself, bending over, holding my stomach. And it felt good. So wonderfully good. I don’t think I’d ever laughed like this.

  Cole sailed across the room and slipped into his body. He sat up on the bed, blood still gushing from his nose, and grumbled, “It wasn’t that funny,” but I could hear the amusement in his tone.

  I followed the same path, and at the first touch of my spirit to my body, I was one being, the air warm, the sounds and smells back to normal. “It was,” I said. “It so was.” My giggles erupted all over again. When I at last calmed down, I asked, “Is your nose broken?”

  “Nope. It’d take a sledgehammer to do much damage to me, and I’m sorry, cupcake, but you aren’t a sledgehammer.” He shook the cartilage back and forth, then wiped away the blood with the back of his wrist.

  “I’d love another chance to change your mind,” I said sweetly.

  “Please. I’m not stupid. Enough hand-to-hand. My face might not survive. It’s time for swords. Let’s see if you’ve gotten any better.”

  I went to the Wall of Weapons at the far end of the barn while Cole moved a dummy to the center of the ring. And no, I wasn’t talking about him or one of his friends (har, har) but a life-size combat doll.

  Most times I worked with one of the living instead of a dummy, but yesterday I’d almost hacked off Cruz’s head for real. And not because my skills were awesome, but because I’d tripped, and then tripped him. So, today we concentrated on the basics I’d already gone over a thousand times.