Through the Zombie Glass wrc-2

by Gena Showalter

  HURTSOON!

  HUNGRY!

  The small enclosure was dark and dank, but smelled of wildflowers and sunshine. I shifted to the side, and what seemed to be a thousand red eyes opened to track the movement. A gasp of horror escaped me.

  I’d just found a zombie nest.

  Chapter 17

  The Zombies Are Back in Town

  The shock must have brought me to my senses. As easily as my body had been dragged forward, it now whisked backward. Spirit and body collided, once again hooking up.

  Kat was at my side, tugging at my arm. I tripped over her feet and fell, banging my knees into the cold, hard ground. The scent of rot clung to my nose, the wildflowers and sunshine gone.

  “Frosty’s on the way,” she said. “He’ll make everything better.”

  “Get back. Purse. Syringe. Throw.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Reeve asked with a tremor. “I know she’s sick, but she was just comatose!”

  “Sick?” Ethan demanded.

  “Gets violent,” Reeve said, distracted.

  “Violent,” he parroted hollowly.

  “Back!” I shouted, pushing Kat away from me. If I helped the zombies... If I hurt my friends... “Go! Please,” I croaked. I no longer wanted her to take time to search for the antidote in my purse. “Please.”

  Ethan jerked a protesting Reeve away from me. She worked her way free and raced back to my side, but he quickly caught up with her, hefted her over his shoulder and took off for his car.

  Maim. Kill.

  Hungry.

  Soon.

  Cold.

  The words played through my mind, a terrible song. I wanted to stand, but my vision was going dark. “Run, Kat,” I commanded. “Run and don’t look back. It’s happening. The worst is happening.”

  The nearness of the zombies must have provoked Z.A. to rise.

  “I’m not leaving you. I’m— Hmph! What are you doing, Ethan? Let me go!”

  He was carting her to his car?

  He must have. Tires squealed. Gravel sprayed. He had no idea what was going on, but he’d sensed the danger, had understood the truth in Reeve’s claim about violence and had reacted accordingly. I’d have to remember to thank him.

  I lay on the ground, exactly where I’d fallen. Breath rasped from me, burning my lungs, my throat. Should I stay here and try to calm down?

  Are you kidding? Stand up! Fight! Zombies had killed my family, and I had made it my life’s mission to return the favor.

  What was more, if the zombies emerged and innocents were around...

  I pulled my knees into my chest and pushed, unfolding to my full height. I wobbled but managed to stay upright.

  I curled stiff fingers around the dagger hilts sticking out of my boots; metal whistled against leather as I freed the blades. The darkness persisted, closing in on me, and I blinked rapidly. Little pricks of color suddenly appeared—all of them red.

  The zombies had emerged.

  Footsteps pounded at my side, and I stiffened. A hard breeze wafted over me, followed by another, and another. Unsure how close the monsters were, I swiped out an arm, encountered only air.

  “Ali.” Cole’s voice registered a split second before I was tackled to the ground.

  I lost my grip on the daggers, as well as what remained of my breath. My head thumped against a rock, and a sharp pain tore through my skull.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Cole rushed out.

  I tried to sit up, but he pinned my arms to the ground, making any kind of movement impossible.

  “You’re staying right here. The others will take care of the zombies.”

  Around us, grunts and groans erupted. The fight was on, good against evil, light against dark.

  I should be helping. I should—hmm, Cole smelled like heaven. The rot had faded, and his scent was crisp and clean, untainted, wonderfully pure, and the more I inhaled, the more I liked it. The more my mouth watered.

  So. Hungry.

  I could feel the utter emptiness of my stomach, could feel the pangs sharpening into little razor blades. My gaze locked on Cole’s pulse. How it glowed and thumped, speaking to me. Taste. Me. Taste. Me.

  Yes, I thought. I lifted my head, nuzzled my nose against the line of his neck. He was warm, and I was cold. Colder than I’d ever been, surely.

  “What are you doing, Ali?” he demanded.

  I bared my teeth, with every intension of biting him. Gonna be so good.

  His strong fingers captured my jaw, keeping my mouth closed. “You don’t want to do this. You’re better than this.”

  Better? I wasn’t better. I was hungry, and he was preventing me from eating. I wanted to eat! With a growl, I jerked from his grip.

  “Ali. You once promised me you would never do this again. Do you remember?”

  I stilled. I’d promised him all right, and I hated to lie.

  Deep breath in. Out. Mind clearing.

  “You can control this. You could control her.”

  Her. Z.A.

  Remembering who—and what—she was gave me the wake-up call I’d needed.

  Fight her.

  This was a test of wills. Hers and mine. We were separate, and it was time to prove it. I was stronger. I had to be stronger.

  “Good girl.” He brushed his fingertips over my brow, and I felt a stream of warmth, a total evaporation of the hunger.

  How did he do that?

  Dark. Light.

  The words struck me again.

  Suddenly Cole went rigid. “Ow!” he spat, and released a tide of dark curses. I heard the rustle of clothing, the snap of metal hitting bone.

  I struggled to sit up, only to realize Cole had left his body on top of me while his spirit slashed at the zombie determined to end him. One of his daggers lodged into the creature’s collarbone, and Cole spun, slicing his opponent across the throat with the other.

  As the zombie fell, its head detached from its body. Cole held out his hand, flames crackling over his fingers. He flattened his palm against the creature’s chest. One second passed, two, three, I don’t know how many more, I lost count, and the flames began to spread up and down, until they covered every inch of the zombie.

  Boom.

  The body exploded and ash rained through the air.

  Cole did the same thing to the head, pressing the zombie face-first into the ground to hide the teeth. The creature was still alive, still trying to chomp on him.

  Boom.

  More ash sprayed.

  He straightened, wavering on his feet. The fire had died from his hand. His knees buckled, and he hit the ground. I rallied my strength and bucked the weight of his body off me, then crawled to his spirit. He had no injuries—wait. His pants were ripped at the ankle. I twisted and saw the teeth marks in his flesh, as well as the black goo the zombies always left behind.

  I whimpered. He’d been bitten because he’d been distracted. By me.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. I’d said those words a lot lately.

  “Antidote,” he rasped.

  Yes, of course. I crawled back to his body, found the syringe in his back pocket and returned to him. Only the needle and my hand ghosted right through him. Why—because he was in spirit form, and I was in natural.

  I tried to force my spirit out of my body, but the hard hands from before held on to me, keeping me inside. Dang it!

  In the back of my mind, I thought I heard gleeful giggles.

  Z.A. was laughing at me.

  Maybe I could start a new to-do list. A small one, with only one task. HURT HER.

  Scanning the area, I took note of the other slayers. Gavin slashed at two zombies at once. Veronica came in from behind and hobbled the zombies at the ankles. Frosty swooped in and pressed his glowing palm against the zombie’s chest, just as Cole had done. Bronx fought every creature trying to reach the stationary Frosty.

  I couldn’t distract them. This was up to me, and there was only one solution. Back to Cole’s body I went. I slid m
y hands under his shoulders and dragged him, one inch at a time, toward his now writhing spirit. He was so heavy, I stumbled with every step. Eventually I managed to drag him close enough to stretch out his arm and connect natural fingers with spiritual fingers, joining the two together.

  Trembling, I rose to my knees and shoved the needle deep into his neck.

  He arched, his back bowing off the ground. Then he sagged into place. “Thank you,” he said, panting.

  I crouched beside him, guarding him from further attack. But I’d taken so long to help him, the battle was over. Gavin straightened, ash from the last creature to die raining around him.

  Veronica returned to her body, became one and rushed over to pull Cole up. “Are you okay, sugar?”

  Sugar again. I wanted to push her away from him.

  I didn’t.

  “I’m fine.” Very gently, he added, “Don’t...don’t call me that. Okay?”

  She blanched. Then she glared at me, spitting out, “You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. Have you realized that yet?”

  I couldn’t, wouldn’t, engage her. And I couldn’t exactly refute her, could I?

  “If you don’t cut him loose, you’re going to kill him, and I’m going to... I’ll put you... Argh!” Clearly, she’d kept herself on a leash, and the leash had just broken. She launched at me, knocking me to my back and throwing a punch.

  I took it, using what little energy I had left to work my legs between us and shove her away. She came back swinging and clipped me in the chin. I rolled with the impact, lumbered to my feet. We circled each other.

  “I’m going to—”

  “Nothing,” Cole said, silencing her as he stood. “You’re going to do nothing, Veronica.”

  Panting, she said, “Please tell me you don’t still care about this girl. After everything she’s done?” When he failed to reply, she paled and looked to me. “I don’t know if you’re human or zombie or both, Ali Bell, and I don’t care. You’re no good for Cole or anyone here, so why don’t you do us all a favor and stay away? Or die. My vote is die.”

  “That’s enough,” Cole shouted.

  I...wanted to die. Everything Veronica had said rang true. These people would have been far better off without me. Cole would have been able to fight. He wouldn’t have gotten bitten. And what about tomorrow? What would happen then? I was nothing more than a living time bomb. I never knew what I would do next—or whom I would hurt. One day, I could detonate and take out everyone around me.

  “The zombies are dead. Where’s Kat?” Frosty demanded. He stood a few feet away from me, his clothes torn and splattered with black goo. Just then, his navy eyes did justice to his name—they were coated with ice.

  Cole moved beside me and wrapped his arm around me in a shocking show of support. I loved his warmth and his scent and his strength and wanted nothing more than to bask in them, but I forced myself to move away from him.

  He might support me in this right now, but it wouldn’t last. He’d soon regret it and wish he’d kept me at a distance.

  He lifted his chin, every muscle in his body tense.

  I pretended to ignore him, marching over to grab my purse and inject myself with antidote.

  “Kat,” Frosty snapped.

  “Ethan,” I replied. “She’s with Ethan Hamilton.”

  Frosty went still, a predator who’d just spotted the tastiest of prey. “Who’s Ethan?”

  “Reeve’s...friend. I know where he lives.” Bronx was just as disheveled, just as splattered, just as predatory. “Cole?”

  “Go,” he said, and the two boys needed no more prompting.

  Gavin stepped to my side, saying, “You need a ride, Ali?”

  “I’ll take her.” Cole approached me a second time, but I backpedaled toward Gavin.

  “No. He’ll take me,” I rushed out. Avoiding Gavin had been stupid. He didn’t tempt me to do things I shouldn’t. I could remain calm with him.

  I wouldn’t become a menace.

  Cole stopped abruptly, looking between us, his eyes narrowing. I wasn’t sure of Gavin’s reaction to this new turn of events, and I didn’t care enough to switch my attention. My gaze remained locked with Cole’s. My heart cracked.

  “It’s better this way, remember?” I said softly.

  “For who?”

  You. “Both of us.”

  He massaged the back of his neck and turned his now ice-cold focus to the others.

  “I’ll see you back at the barn,” he said.

  Trina nodded without looking up. Silent, Lucas flashed a thumbs-up. Veronica approached Cole, but he very gently shook her off and said, “We talked about this, Ronny.”

  Her features fell.

  He stalked away. Twice he glanced back at me, and the crack in my heart widened.

  Could nothing in my life go right?

  Chapter 18

  Tweedledee and Tweedledum Dumb

  “Don’t you need to get back out there?” I asked Gavin as I unlocked my front door. “There could be a flood of zombies tonight.” Even though I hadn’t noticed a rabbit cloud during the drive home. Yeah, I’d finally broken down and looked.

  “It’s doubtful. You woke a nest. That’s the only reason those zombies came out when they did.”

  I paused in the open doorway and faced him, my arms spread to block his path. “Well, don’t you need to be out there putting Blood Lines around the homes of the innocent?”

  His lips curled at the corners. “Mr. Ankh and Mr. Holland have been taking care of that. Now, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  Sure. In...never. “I don’t want to be rude, but—”

  “Good. Then don’t be rude.” He picked me up and set me aside. “I’m spending the rest of the evening with you, then crashing on your couch.”

  Exasperated, I entered behind him. Did he think I’d leave and go on a killing rampage?

  Like you can really blame him.

  “Sorry, but we don’t have a couch.” We’d been buying one piece of furniture at a time, when we found cheap but reliable pieces, and so far had only managed to pick up two beds and a dining room table.

  “Uh, are you sure about that?” He sounded amused.

  “Maybe not,” I said, my tone dry. “I only live here.” I shut and locked the door before nailing him with a glare.

  “Now, now. Don’t look at me like that,” he said, chucking me under the chin. “I saw the video, and I know what you’re capable of, but I also know you wanted to bite Cole that night—and this one. The look in your eyes, the way you licked your lips... I’ve seen zombies do that. But the bottom line? You didn’t do it. Before, you turned your hunger on the zombies, and today you somehow managed to snap yourself out of it. I respect the kind of strength that took.”

  He was...right, I realized. Z.A. had controlled me, darkened my mind, yet I’d had the strength to fight her. Hope bloomed brighter than it had in days, as pretty as a flower opening in the sun. Maybe I wasn’t such a terrible menace after all.

  “If you aren’t afraid of what I’ll do, why do you want to stay here?” I asked, waving my hand at—

  A furnished and decorated living room. I frowned and bustled forward. “Nana,” I called.

  “Ali, dear. You’re home.” Dusting her hands together, she snaked around the hallway corner. “Oh, no. You’re injured. What happened?”

  “The usual,” I said, then motioned to the new furnishings. “How much did all of this cost?”

  She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “Don’t you worry about that. I gave myself a budget and stuck to it.”

  “Nana,” I said.

  My expression must have betrayed my thoughts, because she said, “I know you want to save to buy a house of our own, but I don’t want us living like paupers while we do it.”

  Okay. All right. If she wanted this stuff, then I wanted her to have it.

  I hugged her tight and kissed her on the temple. “Everything looks amazing, Nana. Seriously.”


  “I’m so glad you think so. Wait till you see your bedroom,” she said with a smile.

  Gavin cleared his throat, and Nana peeked around me.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Gavin. I didn’t realize you were here. It’s lovely to see you again.” Her gaze moved over him, widened. “I’m guessing you ran into the same bit of usual trouble my Ali did.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I sure did.”

  She gulped. “There were others with you? And everyone...survived?”

  “More than. We thrived.” He shook off his coat and draped the fabric over his arm. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I’d love a chance to cook you dinner to thank you for allowing me to sleep on your couch.”

  Wait. The he-slut of the great South knew how to cook?

  Nana’s gaze met mine for a split second, her mouth forming a small O. “You’re staying the night?”

  “If it’s all right with you. I’ll behave, you have my word.”

  “Are you two...”

  “No,” I rushed out, at the same time Gavin said, “We’re debating it.”

  I glared at him. “We’re better off as friends.”

  “In that case, it’ll be nice having a man around,” Nana said, once again dusting her hands together. “I bought a bookcase I wasn’t looking forward to putting together.”

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’m always ready for a chance to be a hero.”

  She giggled like a schoolgirl—a dirty, dirty schoolgirl—and I did a double take. “You already are. The bookcase can wait until after dinner, though. I’ve got a few more things to arrange in my room.”

  The moment we were alone, I anchored my hands on my hips. “Will you please stop forgetting you’re into brunettes?”

  “I realized I can’t see hair color in the dark.”

  Oh, wow. “However will I continue to resist such wondrous flattery?”

  Smiling, he swept around me and entered the kitchen. “What can’t be manufactured is attitude, and I happen to like yours.”

  I came in behind him and opened the fridge to grab something to drink. It was now fully stocked with all my favorites. Orange juice, milk, protein shakes, fruits, vegetables and even the chocolate cupcakes I liked to eat cold. I groaned.