by Amanda Ashby
“What?” Mia yelped as she looked at the faces that were still pressed against the glass. She swore that one of the guys from her IT class was drooling. “But if you really are from the zombie department, you must know how to fix this. Right?”
“I’m from the Department of Paranormal Containment, which means exactly that. We can’t always stop it, but we can contain it.”
Mia blinked. “I still don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Isn’t it the same thing?”
Chase shook his head and stood up just inches from where she was standing. “No. You want to stop the virus before your friends all turn into zombies. I just want to stop the zombies from getting out into the greater area.”
“A-and how do you intend on doing that?” Mia croaked.
“I have to kill them all.” His voice was blunt and cold.
“Please tell me you’re joking.” Mia couldn’t control the horror in her voice as Chase grimly shook his head.
“I’m not joking.”
“But . . . you’ve got to be.” She lowered herself back down onto the seat. “I mean, there must’ve been at least two hundred seniors at the assembly—”
“Not to mention teachers,” he interjected.
“Right.” Mia started to fan herself with her hand. There was a fair possibility that she might faint very soon. “Not to mention teachers.”
“Killing them is the only way,” he assured her, and Mia pressed her back against the table and stared at him.
“But that’s ridiculous. There can’t be any killing. What about Candice? I mean, sure, she’s been having a binge-fest on beef jerky, but normally she’s, like, a total white-meat girl. Plus, she’s the only real friend I have. We’re going to college together. I’m doing film studies, and she’s doing pre-med. It’s going to be our time to shine. How can we shine if she’s a dead zombie with her head chopped off?”
“Who said anything about head chopping? We prefer more humane means. Like gas.”
“Oh, well, that makes it all right then. Anyway, why are you even telling me this?” Mia demanded. “If you’re so intent on killing everyone, why did you need me to know?”
Chase flushed and ran a hand through his short hair. “Actually, I probably shouldn’t have done that—it’s against protocol. It’s just if I don’t manage to deal with this virus properly and if even one infected zombie gets out, they’ll head straight to you. I guess I just wanted to give you a heads-up so you could get out of here.”
Mia shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere. Look, I watch a lot of TV and the one thing I’ve learned is that there’s always a way. We just have to figure out what it is,” she insisted. “When Samantha started flirting with Rob, did I just give up and let her get her false nails into him? No, I did something about it.”
“Hence our problem,” Chase pointed out.
“Okay, so perhaps that wasn’t the best example. But,” she continued, “there has to be a way to reverse this thing. I don’t want everyone writing in my yearbook that I was the girl who turned them all into zombies. And what about the prom?”
“Zombies don’t exactly have great motor skills. They can hardly hold up their heads, let alone write anything, so I think you’re safe on that front,” Chase informed her. “Though you might have problems filling your dance card.”
She shot him a mutinous glare. “You’re not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be,” he said in a grim voice, his face devoid of emotion. “Look, if I knew of another way, then I would’ve done it.” He gripped his hands, and she couldn’t help but notice his knuckles had turned white. “I don’t like killing innocent people any more than you do.”
“Well, obviously you do, since you were the one who suggested it in the first place.” She folded her arms and glared at him, but his face remained impassive. “And it seems to me that you need to start learning to think outside the box.”
“When the virus is still in stage one it’s reversible,” he repeated in a tight voice. “But once it reaches stage two, not only do I need the original incantation but also the person who did it, as well as the original ingredients that were in the spell.”
“Well, there you go, Mr. Glass Half Empty,” Mia said as a rush of relief raced through her. “It is reversible, after all. We’ve got the original incantation, and I was the one who did it, so now all we need are the ingredients.”
“That’s where the problem lies. It’s impossible to ever find out the original ingredients.”
“Really? Because I don’t care if we have to strangle it out of her—if getting them will fix this thing, then I say we should do it.”
“What?” Chase stared at her in astonishment.
“Oh please, you’ve got no problem with killing everyone, but you won’t let me strangle some evil old hag who—”
“No, I mean, are you seriously saying you remember where you got the spell?”
“I paid a hundred bucks for it; I’m not likely to forget.” She snorted before frowning. “Why?”
He rubbed his jaw in bewilderment. “Because normally when anyone does one of these, they suffer short-term memory loss. It’s always built into the spell to protect the maker from being discovered. That’s why we’ve never been able to reverse stage two before.”
“Really?” Mia was surprised. “Maybe she has evil-old-witch dementia? Anyway, the important thing is that I totally remember everything about her. Her name is Algeria. She has a shop down at that old strip mall over by Moonlight Avenue, and she’s about seven hundred and eighty-six years old with a squishy wrinkled face.”
Chase pulled out his BlackBerry and typed in the information. “Ah, here we go. Algeria Chen. She’s a low-level Chaos Maker.”
“Do I even want to know what one of those is?” Mia shot him a dubious look.
“They sort of cause trouble on a freelance basis. She’s probably been concocting and selling these spells for years on the off-chance that one of them might work.” Chase looked up from the screen.
Mia frowned. “Yes, but what does she get out of it?”
“It’s sort of like pyramid selling. The more zombies and other things her virus creates, the more . . . benefits . . . she gets from certain businessmen whose interests it suits to have the world in a state of . . . unrest.”
“I never should’ve trusted her. You know, she had very beady eyes. So what are we waiting for?”
Chase paused for a minute and studied his BlackBerry. “According to this, her store doesn’t open until eleven—”
“Even better. We can leave now and break in.” Mia nodded her head in approval. “Then we can have this whole thing fixed before lunch. Perfect. Why are you shaking your head?”
“You think you can just break in and steal something from a Chaos Maker?” Chase lifted an eyebrow.
“Yes. Absolutely. Look,” she wheedled, “I saw her use a black book to make the potion. She kept it in the top drawer behind her counter, and it had Elvis on the front of it. Can’t we at least try to get it?”
“I’ve dealt with Chaos Makers before and you can’t break in. The only way to gain entrance is if they invite you in or if the door is open. Which means we’ll have to wait until she opens up for business.”
“Oh, like vampires.”
“I thought I told you that vampires don’t exist.” Chase frowned.
“I meant in Buffy,” she explained. “If you’re a vampire, you need to be invited in unless it’s in a public place.”
“Oh, right.” Chase nodded. “Well, if they get hit by a thousand kilowatts of sonic energy by stepping over the threshold, then yeah, it’s the same thing.”
“We can get fried?” Mia gulped. Honestly, Algeria should come with a government health warning since she was getting nastier by the minute.
“Only if we try and break in. Look.” Chase glanced at his watch. “We might as well go to our class, and I’ll meet you at the front of the school after second period. Okay?”
Mia nodded her head before she realized the seniors were still all lined up at the door. “Oh, and I don’t suppose there is a way to lose this chicken smell? I think it might blow our cover if we have a group of almost-zombies trailing after us.”
“There is something you can do, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
Mia sighed. With the way the day was shaping up, that was a given.
seven
“It’s water,” Mia pronounced as she stood at Chase’s locker and studied the spray bottle he had just given her. “I don’t understand. Is it holy? Will it burn them?”
“You really do watch too much TV.” He shook his head. “Actually, it’s just tap water.”
Mia looked at him blankly as she tried to ignore the gaggle of other seniors that had followed them and were now standing in a huddle on the other side of the hallway. Didn’t these almost-zombies have classes to go to?
“You spray it on your skin,” Chase explained. “Not only does it help buffer the pheromones you’re putting out, but zombies hate water. Actually, if they’re getting too close, you can just give them a quick squirt. It won’t kill them or anything, but it will make them back off. I always keep a few bottles handy. Just in case.”
“You want me to spray water all over myself?” She stared at him as if he was nuts. Actually, scrap that. He was nuts. “I’ll look like I’m trying out for a wet T-shirt contest.”
“I said you wouldn’t like it,” Chase told her.
“Okay, fine. But if I find out this is some sort of zombie-hunter joke, I won’t be happy,” she informed him as she started to cautiously spray water on her exposed arms. A light mist settled onto her skin and the next minute the students started to disperse to their various classes.
“See?” He leaned against a nearby locker and lifted an eyebrow in her direction. “It works.”
“So I don’t smell like chicken anymore?” she checked.
“I don’t have the zombie virus, so you never smelled like chicken to me,” he assured her.
“Well, thanks. And sorry about the major freak-out. I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“I know. I’m sorry, too. When the department called to say a ritual had been done here at Newbury High, I thought they were joking. Then when they identified you as the person who did it, I definitely thought they were joking. I mean, you seem so normal.”
“I am normal,” Mia responded before letting out a sigh. “Well, I was. And then Rob asked me to the prom and Samantha started trying to steal him away and I just went a little . . . un-normal.”
“I guess it happens. Though I wouldn’t have thought Rob Ziggerman would be your type,” he said, his green eyes drilling into her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mia bristled.
“Nothing.” He shrugged and shook his head. “It’s none of my business.”
“That’s right. And besides, he’s totally my type.” As she spoke, she tried not to notice how her damp skin prickled under Chase’s gaze. She rubbed her arms to try and hide her reaction. It was obviously just from the water.
“If you say so.” He reached over into his locker and pulled out two more bottles of water. “Anyway, until this thing is over, you’d better take these, as well.”
“Thanks.” Mia put them in her bag just as she caught sight of the inside of his locker, which was crammed with books and papers sticking out in all directions. A lot like her own. “Wow, it’s messy.”
“Oh, yeah. Don’t ask me why but I can never keep it clean. I like to think of it as—”
“Organized chaos?” Mia suggested, and then grinned at him. “Me, too. I can’t stand a neat locker. And it’s good to see that you’re not so perfect.”
“Me? Perfect? What gave you that idea?” He looked at her in surprise.
“Well, you just seem like a rule-following zombie hunter, that’s all.” Mia shrugged. “I guess you didn’t really strike me as a messy locker sort of guy.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” he said simply as he shut the door of his locker. As he did so, one of the many loose pieces of paper fluttered down to the ground. Mia bent down to pick it up and realized it was a photograph of a fragile-looking blonde-haired girl. She looked a little younger than Mia and was laughing at the camera, but unlike when Grace posed, there didn’t seem to be any conceit or arrogance in the picture. Just sweetness.
Mia handed it back to him.
“That’s Audrey,” he said as he used his index finger to trace the image. “We went to school together in Boston.”
“She’s beautiful. Like model beautiful,” Mia said, surprised to see how much his face softened as he looked at the photograph.
“Yeah.” Chase’s voice seemed distant and wistful. “She did some modeling when she was younger, but it wasn’t really her thing. She was more about what was on the inside.”
“You must miss her.”
“I do,” he said simply. “Every day.”
“So will you move back to Boston to be closer to her when you graduate?” she asked as she studied his face to see his answer. It was weird that it made her look at him differently just because she knew he had a girlfriend. Chase’s jaw tightened, but before he could open his mouth, there was a coughing noise from behind them.
“Chase Miller and Mia Everett. Is there any reason why you’re still in the hallway instead of going to your next class?” a voice cut in, and they both spun around to where Principal Keegan was standing with an intrigued expression on his face. Crap. “By the way, Mia, this is for you.” He held out a tube of Pringles and she let out a silent groan.
Double crap.
This day got worse by the minute. She quickly gave herself another spray of water as Chase shut his locker. Thankfully, Mr. Keegan suddenly dropped his hand back down to his side and looked confused.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what just came over me.”
That would be the zombie virus I gave you. Mia gave herself another light squirt and just hoped she wouldn’t have to smell like chicken for too much longer. Next to her, Chase was as still as a statue, and she had the crazy desire to reach out and touch his clenched fingers with her own.
“Anyway, I want you both to get to class right now. Understood?”
“Of course.” Chase nodded as he gripped Mia’s arm, and they both hurried away before the principal changed his mind.
“That was too close for comfort.” She shivered and Chase pulled a sweatshirt out of his backpack.
“Here, put this on. You look cold,” he said as he draped it over her shoulders. Mia was about to tell him she was fine, but the minute the faint lingering smell of soap that still clung to the fabric hit her nose, she found herself wrapping it around her arms.
“Thanks,” she said as she tried to figure him out. He didn’t seem to mind killing two hundred students, but he was worried about her catching a cold? And the worst of it was that despite knowing what he wanted to do, she felt safe around him. “So are you sure we have to wait until Algeria opens her shop?”
Chase nodded. “It’s going to be hard enough as it is; we don’t want to make it any more difficult than we need to. In the meantime, I think we should just go to our next classes, because the less attention we draw to ourselves, the better.”
“And me sitting there spritzing myself every five minutes will look completely normal?” Mia raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not in any immediate danger. The water is more to stop them annoying you than anything else.”
“Okay, fine.” Mia turned toward Business Studies. “So I’ll see you out in the parking lot,” she said as she watched him walk off down the hallway in long strides. Then she turned and gave herself one final light spray before she opened up the door, made her apologies for being late, and tried not to notice all the candy that was piled up on the desk where she normally sat. The sooner they got this sorted out, the better.
As Mia hurried out to the parking lot at ten thirty, she was relieved t
o see Chase was already there waiting for her. He was leaning against an old Impala that looked like it had seen better days. Still, the important thing was that he was on time, because even with her water spray, Mia’s morning lessons had left her in no doubt that the zombie virus was real. Not only had people continued to give her food, but everyone around her seemed to be eating meat. Lots and lots of meat.
“Are you okay?” Chase asked as she hurried over to him.
“I’ll be better when this is over. At this rate, no one is going to be able to fit into their prom dresses. Even Samantha Griffin, who has been on a permanent diet since she was eight, was eating a triple turkey-bacon sandwich.”
“Let’s just hope this works,” Chase said as he walked around and opened her door. Wow, Mia didn’t realize guys still did that sort of thing.
“It has to,” she said in a firm voice as she hopped in.
Chase started the engine and pulled out onto Luna Drive. They made the short trip in silence and he soon pulled up at the strip mall, which didn’t look any brighter or less dilapidated with a second viewing.
“You bought a spell from here and you didn’t think it was weird?” He leaned across and opened her door from the inside.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Mia defended with a gulp as she got out of the car. It wasn’t nearly as luxurious as Rob’s SUV, but then again it probably had less chance of having its wheels stolen while they were away from it.
“Okay, so I suppose we should go and do this thing,” Chase said. “But let me just remind you that Chaos Makers are very dangerous. In fact, it’s probably best if you let me handle this.”
As they walked through the door, Mia wrinkled her nose at the overwhelming smell of patchouli oil. She made a mental note that next time she smelled that, she would take it as a sign to turn around and leave.
“Hello, there. We have a lovely selection of virgin’s blood on sale today.” Algeria shuffled out from behind the beaded curtain; however, the moment she caught sight of Mia, her pale eyes narrowed. “Oh, it’s you. No refunds if the spell didn’t work.”
