by Susan Hatler
Sadly, those were several seconds of my life I’d rather not think about again. “Like I told you from the beginning, you and I were never going to happen.” I shoved my hands on my hips, then frowned, annoyed by his attitude. “And nice move having your mom break up with me, but newsflash, Owen, we were never together.”
He gaped down at me. “Then why did you invite me to your room? What was our kiss about?”
Immediately I pictured kissing Jonathan, and butterflies danced in my belly just thinking about him. With Owen there were no sparks. Not even half a spark. Man, I hoped Jonathan wasn’t here listening to Owen’s and my conversation. Owen’s puppy love perception could really give the wrong impression.
“First of all, you kissed me, not the other way around,” I pointed out softly, trying not to hurt his feelings. Then I watched Owen’s gaze drift over my shoulder. Wondering what he saw, I turned around to find my best friend standing there, her baby-blue eyes brimming with tears. Oh, no. “Brynne. It’s not what you think—”
But she turned and ran down the hall, her honey-blond hair flying behind her.
My heart pounded in my chest and I wanted to go after her, but I didn’t have time when Jonathan’s life hung in the balance. My eyes shot back to Owen. “Nice job.”
“What was she upset about?” His eyes trailed after her, but he obviously had no clue that the girl had been in love with him for almost a decade. “All I did was ask why you’d kissed me.” He gave me a look. “Yes, I initiated it, but you seemed to be into me. Admit it.”
I thought of the heat that radiated through me whenever Jonathan was near. “If I gave you that impression, then I’m sorry. But it had nothing to do with you, so let’s just move on.”
“No, I think I deserve a proper explanation.” He stared down at me with an urgent look that, truth be told, made me a little nervous. “Seriously.”
“Fine.” I threw up my arms, wanting to get this out of the way so we could focus on more pressing matters. “You and I were in my room yesterday and Jonathan started trying to zombie my body.”
Owen crossed his arms. “Go on.”
“Well, you know that hot, fiery feeling you get right be before he zombies you?” I sighed, unable to believe I had, even for those few seconds, felt confusion about what I was feeling when I clearly had zero attraction to Owen. Less than zero. Maybe even less than negative numbers, if there was such a thing. Not like I excelled at math. I took a deep breath. “For that moment, I thought maybe that feeling might possibly mean I was attracted to you. Obviously, that was a major misinterpretation.”
His mouth dropped open. “Are you saying you mistook a demon trying to possess you with having the hots for me?”
“I never said I was perfect.” I shrugged. “But I have to tell you, Jonathan got offended when I called him a zhost, which is what his current status actually is—kind of a mix between a ghost and a zombie—so you really need to stop with that demon reference. The guy has enough troubles without having to deal with mislabeling. You don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“Unbelievable.” He turned, then started climbing the stairs toward the parking lot.
“Owen, stop,” I said, trotting up beside him. “I told you what you wanted to know. Can we go somewhere and talk now? Please?”
Owen glanced over at me as he trekked along, then he sighed. “They still have the ninety-nine cent cheeseburgers at Burger Mania and I need one. If you want to talk, I guess you can come.”
His last burger invitation had been much nicer, but that was when he thought we were government conspiracy and UFO buddies. Still, I followed him. “I’m sorry you got zombied, Owen. I really am. But the only way we can make sure it doesn’t happen again is if we find Jonathan a body.”
“Zombied, huh?” He pulled open the passenger side door of his truck. Even pissed off, Owen was a gentleman. “Why do you keep using that term when what happened was clearly a possession? I’m not following how you’ve drawn that conclusion.”
My mouth dropped open, his need to challenge me making me extremely bitter. “He knocked me out of my body, making me look dead only I wasn’t—because I was thinking, right?—then he controlled my body to do his own bidding”
“Again, that explains possession, not a zombie.”
Ugh. Argumentative, much? “Sorry that my perspective bugs you, but my dead-appearing body lurched all over the place. Which—guess what, Owen?—is what zombies do, not the possessed.”
His face grew tight. “According to Haitian folklore, you would need to have appeared dead and also—”
“Did you see my lifeless body when he knocked me out of it? Did you see yours? The answer is no, but I did,” I barked, my stress level rising into the red. I couldn’t believe I was arguing about how to denote my body being hijacked. “This conversation is ridiculous. I can’t even have my body taken over without someone trying to point out how I’m labeling it incorrectly. Why don’t you just ground me or give me detention while you’re at it?”
He blinked as he approached his truck, seeming confused. “Because I’m not in a position of authority over you, where I can—”
“My body looked dead. And yet it was moving. It was zombied. The end.” I groaned as I hopped into Owen’s truck, pulled the door closed, then waited for him to go around to the driver’s side. “Jonathan didn’t take over our bodies for thrills. It’s only because he’s in a huge jam.”
Owen snapped his seatbelt into place. “Not my problem.”
“Yeah, but he’s in trouble and you’re a nice guy,” I pointed out as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m not sure how much you heard while you were in the zombie zone, but Jonathan’s sixteen like us, and he died last Friday from a car accident. He’s the son of Jacob Miller, who’s the creator of Maisy’s Meow.”
“Doesn’t impress me.” He shook his head as he made a right turn. “I can defeat a famous cartoonist’s son.”
“The only way to defeat him would be to make him go back into his own body, which is gone.” Oops. I hoped I hadn’t just told the wrong guy about the zombie version of kryptonite. “His family buried his ashes after the car accident. We drove in your truck to the cemetery using, um, your body yesterday.”
His bottom lip came out. “Yeah, I noticed my gas tank was near empty. I can’t believe you were consorting with a demon, while I was investigating the phenomenon going on right in your backyard.”
“What were you doing?” I asked.
He narrowed his eyes as if in concentration. “I found this effervescent light by the back of your fence. I studied it, tried a few experiments, but still haven’t deciphered what it is.”
I stared at Owen, unable to comprehend the geek-level of what he was telling me. “Your body had been taken over by what you thought was a demon and, instead of going after it, you were doing science experiments on some weird light in my backyard?”
Oh, Brynne really needed to find a new crush.
He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds a lot more stimulating than going to a cemetery.”
My thoughts zipped back to all that had happened at the cemetery yesterday. How we’d found Danielle, and seen the life-changing horror of her grief. The traumatic discovery that Jonathan had been cremated. And Jonathan’s guilt and regret from hurting his dad. Every cell in my body tightened, stressing the urgency of Owen joining forces with us to help Jonathan.
“We only went there to dig up Jonathan’s body,” I said, then realized that didn’t exactly sound better than messing around with some light-thing in my backyard. “Anyway, we ran into his sister who told us his body had been cremated, instead of buried like we thought. Now we’re kind of not sure what to do. I mean, he needs a body or he can’t live.”
Owen braked for a red light. “That’s what happens when you die. He’s going against the natural order of things.”
“Don’t say that.” I batted his arm. “If Jonathan was supposed to be dead, then he would be. Obviously there’s a reason
he’s still alive.”
“What’s the reason?”
I blew out a breath. “That’s what we’re trying to find out.”
“No.” He shook his head as if he’d caught me. “You said you’re trying to find him a new body.”
“Which makes sense in the meantime. Isn’t that what you or I would want if we were in his situation?” I pointed out, thinking Owen could be a little more sensitive. “Your dad’s a doctor and works at San Felipe Medical Center with my mom, right?” My mom was a nurse on the ICU floor where Owen’s dad was the department head and she had mentioned Dr. Jenner before—mostly to comment on how obsessively analytical he could be.
Like father like son.
Owen raised a shoulder. “Yes, my dad’s a doctor. But I don’t see how—”
“Maybe he knows of someone who has died recently, who wouldn’t mind if we borrowed his body. Then Jonathan could just live in it, you’d never get zombied again, and we’d all be happy. Right?”
“Wrong.” The light turned green and he stepped on the pedal with a little too much force.
I frowned and stared over at him. “There must be something we can do to help Jonathan.”
“There is.” Owen swerved into another lane, then hung a left turn and pulled into an unfamiliar parking lot. He put the truck in park, then opened his door. “We’re going inside.”
“But this isn’t Burger Mania,” I said, gaping at him as he hopped out of the truck with a weird look in his eye. I had absolutely no idea what he was up to, but he was up to something for sure. I’d never seen him look so determined.
I picked up my beaded purse, got out of the truck, then checked my surroundings, trying to figure out where we were. I watched him enter the large white building in front of me and then I froze, recognizing what kind of building it was.
Sure, Owen had been tossing around the word “demon,” but I hadn’t thought much of it, other than how the term was annoying. Now, I realized he’d been perfectly serious. I’d wanted him to help us come up with a plan, but I hadn’t anticipated that Owen had his own agenda.
He had brought us to a church.
****
With a great amount of trepidation, I entered through the double wooden doors, stepping into the air-conditioned interior of the church. I spotted Owen marching down a hall, so I hurried to catch up with him. Part of me wanted to believe he wouldn’t betray us like this. Sadly, I almost preferred how he acted to me when he’d had a crush on me. At least he wasn’t sabotaging us then.
Trotting beside Owen, I tugged on his sleeve. “This is nice and all, but I don’t think praying’s going to help Jonathan. Why don’t we head out and get that burger like we talked about? Save ourselves some money for retirement,” I said, hoping I was perking his interest with the financial tip he’d given me last time.
He turned to me, wearing an expression of warning—kind of like the one he used during the Government speeches where he’d talk about aliens invading our planet. “I’m not interested in helping the demon. The only thing I want is for it to keep its essence out of my body. And yours,” he added.
For a second, I was touched that he was worried about me. Then I remembered that Jonathan wasn’t a demon and this church visit certainly wouldn’t help our predicament.
“Oh, please.” I tugged on his sleeve some more. “What is the big deal about him borrowing your body for a few hours when we’re talking life and death here? You’re being unreasonable, Owen.”
“I’m using perfect rationality, but I fear you’ve been brainwashed by your feelings for the demon,” he said, in what sounded like a very jealous tone for someone who was supposedly over me. “For all I know, you’re the demon right now.”
“Spare me,” I said, noting he had brand new laces on his sneakers today. I pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you even think about tying me up again.”
He gave me an annoyed look as he strode down the hallway, then into a large room with high ceilings that opened up to many rows of folding chairs.
A petite woman wearing jeans was walking our way. Her dark hair was speckled with silver and pulled up into a messy bun. She smiled at us. “May I help you?”
“We need a minister,” Owen said, apparently getting down to business.
I pointed with my thumb. “He needs a minister. But I’d like to state for the record, I think this is a waste of time and I don’t want to be here.”
The woman glanced from Owen to me. “Shouldn’t you both be in school?”
“This is our lunch hour,” Owen informed her.
“All right then. What can I do for you?” she asked.
“Like I already stated, we need a minister.” Owen brought his hands together in prayer position. “This is an urgent matter that needs prompt attention. My body was possessed yesterday, possibly by a sixteen-year-old boy who died last Friday. I need the minister to get this lost soul to cross over to the other side and leave me and my friend alone.”
I was greatly relieved he hadn’t referred to me as his ex.
The lady started to laugh, then stopped—obviously having determined that, sad to say, Owen wasn’t joking. She turned my direction, wearing a questioning look.
“He’s a little, you know.” I circled my index finger by my temple until Owen batted my hand away. “Ow, that hurt.”
The woman took a step back. “You both wait here. I’ll see if Reverend Gabriel is back from lunch.”
“Thank you.” Owen’s mouth curved upward. “Now watch and learn, Amy. He’s going to take care of this Jonathan character once and for all.”
I rolled my eyes. Why did this geek have to be the one person in the world with a whacky enough brain to help Jonathan? If only he’d drop this lame demon thing.
A young man with thick, sandy-blond hair strode toward us. He had a muscular build, a decent tan, and if it weren’t for his gray suit and white square collar, he could pass for one of those beach lifeguards on that TV show. “Welcome, both of you. Please, have a seat,” the minister said.
Knowing I couldn’t leave without Owen, I sat in one of the folding chairs, and crossed one leg over the other. I didn’t feel Jonathan right now, and wished he were here. This was going to be interesting.
He shook Owen’s hand. “I’m Reverend Gabriel, and you are?”
“Owen Jenner, sir.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Owen. Loretta said you needed some kind of help? A matter concerning a friend of yours who has passed away?”
“He’s one-hundred percent not a friend of mine.” Owen was quick to point this out. “She thinks he’s her boyfriend.”
“Please don’t start that again,” I gritted out, then turned to the minister apologetically. “He has a bit of a crush on me, and isn’t taking rejection well. It’s probably irrelevant for your purposes, but I don’t technically have a boyfriend.”
Owen scoffed. “It’s hard to take rejection well when you were all too happy to kiss me in your bedroom yesterday.”
“Owen!” I snapped. It seemed way wrong to say the word bedroom in front of the minister. How embarrassing. “You have to forgive him, but he was possessed yesterday and isn’t handling it well.”
“Possessed?” Reverend Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows, then took a seat next to us. “I’m not following . . .”
“Amy asked me over to her house yesterday under false pretenses concerning the government.” Owen nodded toward me, then made a sound that I don’t think he meant as flattering. “When I got there, some kind of demon pushed me out of my body and took it over. I was suspended in a bodiless zone for a number of hours, while the demon in my body drove my truck, without permission, to the graveyard with Amy. And it used up the majority of the gas without bothering to replenish my tank.”
Reverend Gabriel’s eyes widened a bit as he turned my way. “You’re Amy?”
“Yep.” I lifted my hand, and wiggled my fingers at him. Owen was so going to end up in a straight jacket.
“What’s go
ing on with your friend here, Amy?”
I patted Owen’s back. “Rejection issues.”
“Completely untrue.” Owen scooted away from me, then shot me daggers with his eyes. “Believe me, I’m over her.”
Reverend Gabriel’s mouth twisted. “I’m not sure I understand how I can be of service to you.”
“Well, sir.” Owen straightened, and looked the minister in the eye. “I need you to tell me how to keep a demonic presence from taking over my body again. If you’re able to banish the demon to another realm, that would be even better.”
I raised a finger. “I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again. He’s not a demon.”
“There must be a way.” Owen grabbed the minister’s arm, as if in desperation. “A certain demon-be-gone chant? Anything. I’ll carry holy water around with me if I have to. I don’t want to go to the bodiless zone again.”
“I prefer zombie zone,” I chimed in. “It seems more accurate, and has a nicer ring to it.”
Reverend Gabriel tugged at his collar, then he swayed a little. “Is this some kind of prank?”
“No, sir.” Owen shook his head, then made a face as if the accusation was insulting. Obviously Owen wasn’t used to people in authority questioning his motives. For me, it was just another day in the life. “Believe me, Reverend, I wish this were a prank,” he said. “But we really need your help because the demon has brainwashed Amy into thinking . . .”
His voice trailed off and I knew why.
Hot air swirled around me, and my arms prickled, the hairs standing on end. That weighted feeling of “being watched” returned. I popped to my feet, gaze darting around, half-expecting to see Jonathan materialize. If only.
“Is it hot in here all of the sudden?” Reverend Gabriel started fanning his face with a black book, and he gripped the back of a chair. “My chest feels heavy. I don’t feel very well. Where’s Loretta?”
“It’s the demon!” Owen exclaimed, then jumped to his feet, wearing a panicked expression. “He’s here. Run!”
“What are you doing?” I said, watching as Owen darted about ten feet, picked up a small wooden table, then shoved it in front of us like a shield. I’d become trapped between Owen and two of the chair legs. “Do you really think an oak table will protect us?”
