Through the Zombie Glass wrc-2

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Through the Zombie Glass wrc-2 Page 12

by Gena Showalter


  Hard bands wrapped around my upper arms. Instinct took over, and I raised my fist to attack the culprit. I turned.

  Gavin ducked, avoiding impact. Straightening, he frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  Your condition, the man in the car had said.

  “The smell of rot is in the air.” Excitement bubbled in Mackenzie’s tone.

  Smiling, Gavin released me. He shot a flare in the sky to alert Cole and Lucas, then palmed two daggers. “Yeah, baby. The zombies are nearby.”

  I inhaled deeply, but I smelled only the pine of the trees. And...Gavin. I smelled Gavin, and it was better than the pine. It was delicious. Mouthwatering.

  “You able to fight?” he asked me.

  I wasn’t actually sure, wasn’t even sure I cared. I leaned into him and sniffed. Hmm. Snack time.

  He looked as if he wanted to question me, but a male with a hunched back and a twisted ankle ambled from the side of a house, drawing his attention.

  The zombies weren’t just nearby; they were here.

  This one wore a dirty, ripped suit, and his tie was askew.

  Three other zombies moseyed out behind him, and five more behind them.

  Must have, must have, must have.

  Mine, all mine.

  Gonna be so good!

  The voices stacked one on top of the other, insistent and loud. I shook my head and tugged at my ears, even as I licked my lips and stared at Gavin’s neck.

  He tossed something small and black at the zombies and shouted, “Down!”

  He hit the ground. Confused, I remained standing.

  Boom!

  A minigrenade exploded, ripping through the first line of zombies. Arms flew one way and legs another, minus the bodies. A white-hot blast of air shoved me backward. When I landed, twigs and grass and body parts rained over me.

  Gavin and Mackenzie hopped up and rushed headlong into battle, hacking and slashing at the creatures still standing.

  I gritted my teeth and forced myself into motion. “I can do this. I can do this.”

  But...as I carved through the spine of a female zombie, she reached for Gavin, ignoring me. As I cut off the arm of another, he bit at Mackenzie, as if I wasn’t even there.

  WILL TASTE.

  MINE, MINE, MINE.

  HURT. MAIM. KILL.

  GOOD, SO GOOD.

  Argh! The voices. Louder now, screaming at me. I dropped the ax to clutch at my ears. Stop. Please, stop. But they didn’t. They only grew louder. My knees gave out, and I collapsed to the ground. The zombies stepped over me, desperate to reach Gavin and Mackenzie.

  What are you doing? Get up. Fight. Help your friends. You’re better than this.

  Finally Pep Talk Ali, a voice of reason. Barely discernible over the noise. I palmed a dagger with a trembling hand and stood. My legs quaked, and I swayed, but I somehow found the strength to lumber forward.

  Splattered in black blood, Mackenzie presented a macabre picture as she spun and sliced the throats of the three zombies attempting to latch onto her arms. Gavin jumped over a pile of headless, writhing zombies, avoiding grasping hands, to press against Mackenzie’s back.

  I lifted my blade. I would help them...touch them. They glowed. Soft light pulsed from their pores. Such pretty light. Drawing me.

  Mine.

  I had to taste it. Them.

  Taste. Yes. Mackenzie was closest, and she would be the first to feed me. I would gorge on her. She would scream, and I would laugh, because I would be full for the first time in my life.

  “Ali,” she growled. “There’s one behind you!”

  One...a zombie. Behind me. He didn’t care about me. Bypassed me.

  But she’d warned me. To help me...the way I was supposed to help her.

  So many times I’d wanted to help the people I loved, and I’d failed. My dad, my mom, my sister, my grandfather. I couldn’t fail again. I blinked, my wits returning. Realization—and horror—slammed into me. I’d come close to harming my friend.

  I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, dropped the blade and backed away from her. How could I have entertained such dark thoughts?

  “Ali, light up!” Cole called.

  He was here. I turned, our gazes meeting. He was sprinting toward me, moving as quickly as I had done. And yet I easily tracked his movements. Could even see the concern on his face.

  What if I decided to hurt him? What if I attacked him?

  As much as I currently disliked him, I couldn’t take the chance.

  Panicked, I ran in the opposite direction, away from Cole, from the fight, from everyone and everything. I ran and never looked back.

  Chapter 9

  Drink Me

  Gasping, I jolted upright. Panic cloaked me as I scanned surroundings I didn’t remember stumbling upon. I was...

  On the cold, hard ground in front of my old house. The house I’d lived in most of my life. The house my father had built. The house I hadn’t visited since the death of my family.

  Tremors rocked me. How had I gotten here? I’d run from Cole, from the zombies and the voices, yes, yes, that was right, and then I’d...blacked out, maybe. I remembered nothing else.

  Now the sun was in the process of rising, though it was hidden behind a thick wall of clouds—one of which was shaped like a rabbit. I gulped. Looked away. The tree swing my dad had built for Emma had been removed. The rose garden my mom had poured her blood, sweat and tears into maintaining was now a pile of rocks.

  Corrosive acid filled my veins, threatening to spill over. Change, change, all around, here and there and everywhere, reminders that nothing and no one was safe from its clutches.

  Familiar sensations pricked at me. The speeding up of my heartbeat—both of them—the beading of sweat on my brow, the constricting of my lungs. Knowing I was losing control of my body and my reactions only made everything worse.

  Stop! Just stop. I wasn’t this girl, wasn’t some scared little mouse. I was stronger than this, forged from fire and sharpened by steel. In—I inhaled. Out—I exhaled. In. Out. Good.

  Something soft shifted through my hair, tickling my scalp. “Oh, Alice. I hate to see you like this.”

  My gaze traveled up a pair of ballet slippers, stockings, a fluffy tutu and a glittery pink leotard. The remaining panic went head-to-head with a sudden burst of happiness, and, miracle of miracles, the happiness won.

  “Emma.” I leaped to my feet and gathered my baby sister in my arms. Wait. Something wasn’t right. “I can touch you,” I said. “I can actually touch you.” Shock sent me careening backward. “How can I touch you? Am I dead?”

  Golden eyes twinkled merrily, and perfect heart-shaped lips edged into a smile. “You’re in spirit form, silly.” She flicked the end of her pigtails over her shoulders, a familiar gesture. “Your body is waiting at Cole’s barn, and your friends are, like, superworried.”

  The barn. That’s right.

  I didn’t care. “I want to stay this way forever.” I couldn’t lose the feel of her again.

  “You can’t. Your body will die.”

  Just then, I didn’t care about that, either. “Your point? We’ll still be together.”

  Her smile slowly fell. “I don’t think we would.” Looking down at her ballet slippers, she said, “Once we promised never to lie to each other, and right now I’m going to keep that promise.” A pause. A sigh. “You’re in trouble, Alice, and it’s getting worse every day.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m handling things.”

  Her gaze met mine. “I can see the smudges.”

  I gulped. “What are they?”

  Expression filled with tenderness, she reached up and brushed one side of my face. “I told you I would talk to people, and I did. But, Alice...I don’t think you’re going to like what I learned.”

  “Tell me anyway.” I had to know.

  “Very well. Have you ever heard the story of the two hungry wolves living inside every man? One
is good, one is evil and both are fighting for control. In the end, the one that’s fed will end up the winner.”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, that is what’s happening. That night inside Anima Industries, when you were stabbed, you had so much zombie toxin inside you the antidote couldn’t eradicate all of it. Your spirit was strong enough to fight it, though, keeping that part of you safe, but not your already weakened body. And the toxin, well, it was a mutated version and created something new, something born of you. Another spirit. That means there are now two spirits battling to the death for rights to live inside you. Yours, the human Alice. And the other...zombie Alice.”

  Pausing, she waited for those words to sink in.

  I wrapped my arms around myself, as if I could protect myself from such a terrible invasion. Zombie Alice. Fighting for control. My smudged reflection... The desperate whispering voices... The sickening urges... I nearly dropped to my knees.

  “You’re saying I’ve become a host to a...to a...zombie. But that can’t be. I’ve had long moments without the darker urges. Like now. I don’t want to bite you.”

  “That’s true, but you have to think of this as a disease. Your human spirit is fighting the zombie spirit, even though you may not be aware of it, and the human one is mostly winning right now. But because your human spirit, and therefore your body, produces a poison for the zombies, and you now have a zombie inside you, you are basically poisoning yourself. You’re allergic to yourself and weakening because of it.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head.

  “You know I’m right,” she said, and I could tell she was battling tears. “The darker side of you is sometimes strong enough to manifest outside you.”

  No. “I’ll use more antidote.”

  “And that will help in the short term, but it’s not a solution.”

  “What is?” I croaked.

  “I...don’t actually know. When Justin bit you, he woke this new side of you. Breathed life into it.”

  Finally I did fall to my knees. I couldn’t deny her words anymore, could I? Seconds after Justin had bitten me, the new heart had started beating.

  The new heart.

  For the new me.

  “What happens if she wins?” I asked.

  “You know the answer to that.”

  I did. I just hadn’t wanted to admit it.

  I would become what I hated most.

  “How long do I have?” I asked, trying not to sob.

  “Longer than most. Do you remember when Mom put her hand on your leg after the crash?”

  My eyes widened. I couldn’t form words, could only nod. The dreams hadn’t been dreams, then, but memories. Having it confirmed ripped me apart. She’d suffered. My mother had suffered.

  “She didn’t realize she was doing it, but she passed on her zombie-slaying abilities. Her...power, I guess is as good a word as any.”

  Hers. Not my father’s. “But she never exhibited any abilities.”

  “You know better than anyone you don’t have to see something for it to be there.” She settled in front of me, squeezed my hand. “You inherited Dad’s abilities, too. That’s why you’re so strong, and one of the reasons you can do things others can’t. One of the reasons your body hasn’t already died. If anyone can beat this, you can.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know that, either,” she said. Her shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry.”

  I tried to smile. I wasn’t sure I succeeded. “Hey, don’t worry about me. I’ll find a way.”

  She nodded, and I could see that she wanted to believe me. And then she kissed my cheek, said, “I’m still searching for answers. I’ll be back,” and vanished.

  I crouched there, breathing in and out, my hands fisted. No matter what, I wouldn’t allow myself to become a zombie. I would fight this, and I would try to find a cure, but if I failed...

  No. Not an option. I formulated a to-do list and calmed. Find a way to decode the entire journal. Learn how to kill the zombie inside me. Actually kill her.

  Simple, yet amazingly complex. Whatever. I’d done worse.

  “Ali!”

  My brow furrowed. That was Cole’s voice.

  I stood and turned left, saw a car speeding through the neighborhood. I turned right, saw a woman walking to her car, a cup of coffee in hand.

  “Ali!”

  Suddenly a sharp sting pierced my cheek.

  Had Cole just slapped me? I marched forward, setting a collision course for the barn and all my problems, annnd...the world around me blurred, only coming back into focus when I spotted the big red building where I’d left my body. Someone had left the door open for me. Inside, I caught a glimpse of Cole, Mr. Holland and all of the slayers crowding in front of my chair.

  Cole lifted his arm, palm flat, ready.

  He had. He really had.

  I slipped into my body with a gasp. “I’m here.”

  He straightened. His gaze found mine and narrowed. It was a new day, but I was no longer surprised when a moment passed without a vision.

  His father pushed a needle into my neck. “Antidote,” he explained.

  “Are you okay?” Cole demanded.

  Okay? No. Even with my to-do list hovering in the back of my mind, I wanted to curl into a ball and cry. I wanted to tell him what I’d learned. I wanted...everything I couldn’t have. His arms around me. His voice in my ear, telling me everything would be all right.

  He was the only person I would believe.

  It was odd, and probably just the moment, or my shock, but now that limits had been placed on my future, none of the fury I’d harbored for Cole remained. I was still hurt by what he’d done, and the way he’d been treating me, but none of that mattered just then.

  A single night had changed me irrevocably.

  Change.

  I laughed without humor. Another change had come for me.

  “Give the girl some breathing room.” Mr. Holland shoved the slayers out of the way.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice nothing more than a whisper.

  Cole shrugged off his dad’s attempts and planted his hands on the arms of my chair, leaning into me, putting us nose to nose. “Where were you? What the hell do you think you were doing out there? Do you have any idea how much worry you caused m—us?”

  I blinked at him. Gone was the gentle Cole, the one who had tended me after my panic attack. The one who had sweetly covered my hair with the bandanna.

  “I can guess about the worry,” I said, and looked away from him. I was too raw, too susceptible to his concern and his mood, torn to shreds all over again. “And I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  “Where were you?” he demanded a second time.

  “At my old house.”

  “Why did you go there?”

  “I don’t know. I woke up, and there I was.”

  Mr. Holland opened his mouth, but Cole cut him off.

  “You don’t know?” Cole snorted, his anger far from assuaged. “How can you not know?”

  What had brought about this transformation in him?

  Gavin slapped him on the shoulder. “Dude. Let’s give her a minute to explain.”

  Cole whipped to him, snarling, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Uh...yeah. We’d all like that.” Confused, Gavin looked to me, probably expecting me to explain Cole’s odd behavior. I couldn’t.

  And then I didn’t want to. The world faded—

  —Gavin was in my room, standing in front of me. I spun him and pushed him down on the bed, then climbed on top of him. I forced his head to the side, baring his neck. My tongue swiped over his skin as I tugged at his shirt, trying to pull it off his body and—

  —smack!

  I blinked into focus, the here and now returning just as quickly as it had vanished, only to realize Cole had just punched the partition over my head, leaving a gaping hole. Dust filled the air, making me cough. Then he pushed Gavin.

  Gavin stumbled backward
and scrubbed a hand down his face.

  “What did you see?” Cole demanded. “Tell me, before I—”

  “Get control of yourself, son.” Mr. Holland grabbed him by the arm and thrust him toward the door. “If you can’t, leave.”

  Cole took only a moment to decide. He stormed out of the barn, the door slamming shut behind him. Frosty and Bronx tossed me a sympathetic glance before following him. A few seconds later, I heard the squeal of tires and the spray of gravel.

  “The rest of you need to leave, as well,” Mr. Holland said. “Except you, Gavin. You stay.”

  All of the slayers filed out, except for Gavin. Mackenzie threw me a puzzled glance.

  I’d left her in danger last night.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, wrapping my arms around myself. Tears beaded in my eyes. “Did anyone get hurt?”

  “No.” Mr. Holland stared at me, his crystalline gaze boring into me like a laser. “I’m not going to ask what you and Gavin saw in your vision. Judging from your expression, I can guess. What I want to know is what happened to you last night.”

  Not too long ago, this man had found me utterly unreliable. He hadn’t wanted me here. What would he do if he learned the truth, that I was rotting from the inside out?

  Soon I could very well be a hazard to everyone we loved.

  “I blacked out,” I said.

  “I was told the zombies wanted nothing to do with you.”

  “That’s right.” I shuddered with revulsion. They must already consider me one of their own.

  “I want Ankh to check you out,” Mr. Holland said.

  I wouldn’t protest. “Okay.” Just what would he find? Would he discover the source of the problem? He hadn’t yet.

  “And I want you off rotation until this is figured out.”

  A denial rose immediately. One I quickly swallowed. I’d almost hurt Mackenzie and Gavin. I’d left my team to engage in battle without me. I deserved this, and worse.

  I looked down, ashamed, and nodded.

  Mr. Holland faced Gavin. “Drive her home.” Then, having said his piece and issued his orders, he stomped out the door.

  As soon we were trapped in his car, alone, Gavin said, “Why do we keep having the same vision?”

  “I don’t know. With Cole, we usually only had the same vision a few times before a new one took its place.”

 

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