Текст книги "Alice in Zombieland"

Автор книги: Gena Showalter

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

I stomped into the living room. First thing I noticed was that Justin was gone and so was the dark-haired girl who’d doctored him. Mackenzie, Frosty and Bronx were gone, too. I found Kat on the couch, two-fisting bottles of beer. She was paler than before, trembling even.

Having dealt with my father in all the stages of his alcoholism, I knew how to handle her—with force. I pried the bottles from her kung fu grip and waved my fingers. “Keys.”

“Why?”

“I’m driving you home.” I kept the fact that I’d had only a few lessons and hadn’t yet gotten my license to myself.

“Oh, all right. He always does that, you know,” she grumbled as she dug in a hidden pocket of her dress. “Jumps to obey Cole’s every command. Go, Cole says, and he goes. You need to fix that. I mean, I was hoping you’d distract Mr. Authority, keep him busy so that Frosty could crawl after me properly.”

“I think Cole just dumped me,” I grumbled back. I didn’t think; I knew. At least the hurt was fading. I was even numbing out. “Besides, we weren’t really dating.”

“What! He dumped you? Justin must have beat him senseless.” She held out a glittery key chain in the shape of a cat. “There’s no other reason he’d do something so stupid. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him!”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but he just wasn’t into me enough.” I took the key and helped her up. She swayed, so I wound my arm around her and ushered her toward the door. No one tried to proposition me. Had they, I might have shoved their noses into their brains.

“Let’s get married, me and you, and have a thousand babies together,” Kat said. “That’ll show ’em!”

“What a fantastic idea. Let’s talk about it in the morning.”

Outside, cool night air stroked my arms and face. Clouds had appeared en masse, obscuring the moon—I jerked to a halt. There was my rabbit. Bigger than before, even brighter, holding something small and round in its hands.

“What’s wrong?” Kat asked. “Is your car phobia acting up again?”

“Something like that.”

“You’ll do fine. My car likes to steer itself, hence the reason for my crashes. But seriously, you won’t have any trouble.”

“We should—” I saw a flash of movement behind the far tree…saw the train of a dirty wedding gown…smelled the rot.

Too soon, I thought, ice crystallizing in my veins. The zombies shouldn’t be out tonight. They should be resting.

“Is that cloud spinning or is it just me?” Kat asked.

I glanced at the rabbit. The round thing in its hands now had hands of its own—clock hands, tick, tick, ticking away. It had come to warn me, I realized. Not about a car wreck, but about the zombies. The time had come; they were here.

“Go inside, Kat. Don’t let anyone out here, okay?” I gave her a push toward the door. I figured—hoped, prayed—Cole, Reeve’s dad, someone, had doubled up the Blood Line thing around the perimeter. I wasn’t sure how that worked or how long it lasted, but figured the more the better.

“But why?”

“Don’t ask questions. Please,” I said. “Just trust me.”

Grumbling under her breath, she obeyed, tripping back through the front door to hopefully guard it. As I stared at the shadows around the trees—dancing now, multiplying—I dug my phone out of my pocket and dialed Cole.

No answer. I was dumped to his voice mail. Avoiding me? Whatever. I left a message. “I think the zombies are at Reeve’s.” As I spoke, I used my free hand to reach for the blade in my purse.

A body lumbered into a thin ray of moonlight—followed by another and another. I gulped, fear spiking through me. “Scratch that,” I added, then did a double take when I spied my little sister flickering into view beside one of the zombies. She was pale, still in her pink tutu and wringing her hands together. “They are here.” Click. “Emma?”

“Go inside, Ali,” she said, and vanished.

“I can’t,” I replied anyway. Right now, I was the only one capable of seeing the zombies, the only one capable of defeating them—and yes, I was beyond inexperienced. But this was what I’d wanted. A chance to save the world.

For better or worse, I’d take it.

12
Off with Her Head!

The first set of problems popped up rather quickly. One, I had no idea how to shove my spirit out of my body. The journal had mentioned “faith” as the cause of the separation, yes, but how was I supposed to develop faith? Or was I supposed to yield to the power inside me—power I couldn’t feel?

Two, I had no idea what would follow if I succeeded but Kat failed, and someone came outside and tried to talk to my unresponsive body. And let’s not forget that Kat could succeed, I could fail, and someone could walk out the unguarded back door just in time to die.

At least the solution to both points was the same: I had to draw the zombies as far away from the house as possible.

A live wire of raw nerve endings, I drew on a growing well of courage and leaped into action, clutching my blade as I sprinted toward my enemy. “Lord,” I prayed. “Give me strength, speed and maybe one of those hazmat suits.”

Just before I reached the first two zombies—and oh, sweet heaven, there were eight more just behind the line of trees that separated the Ankhs’ property from the forest—I shouted, “Dinner’s ready! Come and get me!” and veered left.

A chorus of grunts and growls erupted, each zombie veering with me, following as I’d hoped. As I ran, I glanced over my shoulder—then had to glance again. Bridezilla had honed in on me, moving faster and faster with every step. Her Groom of Doom wouldn’t be too far behind her. He never was.

I shifted my scope—and boom, there he was. Buy one, get one free. Though one of his ankles was twisted at an odd angle, he had a surprisingly swift gait, practically gliding over the ground.

Either whatever damage was done to the body before death followed into the spirit or Cole and friends had fought him before and hurt him, but he’d gotten away before the death-glow.

If they’d failed to defeat him, what chance did I, the novice, have of success?

Can’t think like that.

Because I was watching what was happening behind me rather than my step, I slammed into a tree and ricocheted backward. Stars winked in every direction as I fought to suck in a single molecule of air. Panic threatened to overwhelm me. Get up! I’d seen a few episodes of Animal Planet. I knew what happened to stationary targets.

I floundered to my feet. Another quick look behind me, and I yelped. Too close, too close, they were way too close. I sprinted forward, effectively avoiding the tree.

Come on, Bell. You can do this. I could lead the zombies through the forest, camouflaging myself within the foliage and waiting until backup (hopefully) arrived. Except Cole had mentioned that trip wires littered the forest outside my backyard. I’d bet there were traps out here, too, though how an intangible spirit could trip a tangible wire, I wasn’t yet sure. But I could probably trip them no problem.

The forest was out.

Maybe I could make a dash for the road, praying any cars that came by would stop, let me in and speed away. But then again, involving innocent people in cars would defeat the purpose of not involving the innocent people inside Reeve’s house.

The road was out.

Great. I had nowhere to go.

Okay, rethinking. Reeve’s dad was the suspicious type. There had to be cameras inside and out, as well as all along the property line, monitoring everything, and someone in the know had to be watching the video feed. Mr. Ankh had certainly caught Kat and I soon enough.

So…I’d have to brave the forest, traps and all. If I stayed within a few hundred yards of the house, I would hopefully avoid the bulk of them. I could try to corral the zombies in one location and, if possible, burn them with my hand the way Cole had done.

Sometime during all of this, Mr. Ankh would surely find me.

I quickened my pace, leaves and branches slapping at my cheeks. With the lush canopy overhead, I lost some much-needed moonlight, as well as all the light pouring from the house. Darkness engulfed me, causing my fear to spike. Still, I kept my eyes on the ground—in front of me this time—searching for anything man-made that might be snaking from the thicker tree roots. I didn’t want to find myself dangling from a branch, an all-you-can-eat buffet for every zombie in the area.

I noticed a bushel of brittle leaves ahead and wondered if they had been purposely piled to hide something, considering the rest of the area was pristine. I hopped over them. Two seconds later, I heard a whoosh of air, a grunt. Glanced back. Sure enough, the Groom of Doom had been snagged and now hung upside down, unable to fight his way free. Sweet!

If only the others had been caught, but no, they drew ever closer to my heels. Faster, faster I raced, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. Adrenaline rushed through me in a great flood, causing my body to sizzle and sweat to drip down my back in rivulets. My bones vibrated and my injuries ached.

Despite my condition, the zombies would not defeat me. I wouldn’t let them. I would fight them, no matter the pain or outcome. I would—

The heat inside me mutated into a chilling cold. My steps never faltered, I never changed course, but I suddenly felt lighter, freer, my steps surer. I glanced backward only to see my body frozen in place, one foot in front of the other as if I’d stopped moving midrun.

The zombies ignored my body as if it were merely one of the trees around them.

Faith. I’d somehow exhibited faith and I was now in spirit form. Yes!

I sprinted to the right, too close to a thick trunk but not caring because I assumed I’d mist through it…until the jaggedness of the bark scratched my arm. What the heck? Even though I was without the solid covering of my body, things like wood would still be solid to me? That wasn’t logical—or fair.

Figure it out later. Concentrate now. I scanned the night, searching for the best place to stop and corral.

In the distance, flickers of light caught my attention. As I honed in on them, those flickers became glowing smears of…something. I frowned. A large rock loomed ahead, glowing so brightly it was like a piece of the sun had fallen from the sky.

Fetid breath trekked over the back of my neck. Fearing I was about to be grabbed, or worse, bitten, I released a scream as I jumped over the rock.

Behind me, I heard a crash.

Still on my feet, unharmed, I threw another glance behind me. The zombie that had been closing in on me had tripped over the rock. There’d been another zombie close to his heels, and that zombie fell, too. The others were smarter and jumped as I had, and oh, they had multiplied. They were like a swarm of flies. As soon as I swatted one away, three others took his place.

My backup had better arrive soon!

Hoping the glowing smears were here to help me, that they were arrows meant to lead me to the right direction, I followed them. There was a dead end about a yard away, limbs and leaves forming a solid wall. I had nowhere else to turn and kept going—bursting through, I discovered a wide-open space.

I spun. Bridezilla and a tall, beefy male ruptured the same wall, coming at me without pause. She wore that dirty gown. He was shirtless, his arms pale, his chest black and bubbled and scabbed over.

Grunting, they launched at me. Teeth stained with ooze snapped, at the ready.

Hobble them, my dad used to tell me. If you’re surrounded, hobble as many of your opponents as possible so that you can run without being chased by all of them.

Now that I was solid to the zombies and they to me, that advice would work. I went low, using my knife to slash both zombies in the thigh in one smooth motion. They flew over me, toppled, but quickly gained their bearings and climbed to their feet. Bridezilla made another play for me and snagged several locks of my hair, yanking. A sharp throb created a staccato rhythm in my scalp as I jerked away from her. Of course, both zombies immediately swiped at me.

I dove for one of the tree trunks outside the circle, thinking, hoping, a trap rested at the base and the zombies would be swept into the air. Something, anything. Only, they weren’t swept up. They weren’t swallowed by a hidden hole in the ground. They weren’t even deterred. Grasping hands pulled at me....

I twisted and kicked the male in the stomach, sending him stumbling backward. At the same time I grabbed Bridezilla by the hair. The strands ripped free, but my momentum wrenched her forward, slamming her face into the tree. Her nose shattered on impact, and she sagged to the ground. The inactivity wouldn’t last long, I knew.

The rest of the gang arrived. I kicked the first to reach me, and just like his friend, he stumbled backward. The rest converged. I punched. I stabbed. I punted, dancing this way and that to avoid being seized.

I made little progress.

I would have settled for being caught in Cole’s trap myself. I’d be swept up, out of reach.

Out of reach… Heck, maybe I should just climb the tree.

Climb. Yeah. I pushed my boot into a groove on the trunk and raised one of my arms. My hand snagged on a smooth protrusion. A glowing protrusion, I realized with a glance up. My bicep strained as I hefted myself a good ways off the ground. As I kicked with my free leg, I raised my other arm and found another glowing protrusion; my boot even caught on another groove. I gained a few more inches…more…more.

The higher up I was, the brighter the glow was, until I could make out the rungs of a ladder nailed into the side of the tree. This wasn’t happenstance. Mr. Ankh had to have made this.

One of the zombies shackled my ankle and tugged; I held on to the tier for all I was worth and nailed him in the face with my other leg. The moment he released me, I scrambled the rest of the way up the tree.

When I reached the top, I was panting, air rasping through a too-tight throat. The zombies attempted to follow me up, but they couldn’t figure out the mechanics.

Hallelujah, I’d just won myself a reprieve.

I looked around, counting the competition. Sixteen. To win, all I had to do was incapacitate each one, place my hand over their hearts and turn my palm into a flamethrower. Easy.

Yeah. Right.

Bridezilla recovered from her lobotomy and joined the others, scratching and clawing at the bark—and finally making progress up the ladder. Dread pierced me. So much for a reprieve.

I knew what I needed to do, and palmed a second blade. Take out as many as I could and run, just as my dad had said. Don’t think anymore. Just act. I jumped, somersaulting over the zombies. When I landed, my knees knocked together, jarring me, rattling my brain against my skull, but I swiftly turned, my arm arcing, both weapons slashing. I nailed a male in the throat so deeply his spine got a nice introduction to the knife’s hilt. A roar ripped from him as he careened to the side.

There wasn’t time to place my hand on his chest to try and flame broil him. The female batted at me, striking me across the cheek. I stumbled, tripped over something solid and fell. I meant to leap to my feet, I really did. Meant to work my way back up the tree and repeat that little vaulting/neck-slashing trick. Except, strong arms shot out from behind me, wrapping around my waist and holding me down.

Teeth embedded in my shoulder. I screamed as agonizing pain seared me, flames seeming to lick over me, driving out the cold. My eyesight hazed, and my muscles clenched into hard little knots.

“Ankh,” I shouted. “Cole.” No footsteps sounded, no big strong man rushed to the rescue.

This couldn’t be the end. I’d faced death several times before and come out okay. I would again.

“I will kill you!” I shouted, furious that I’d allowed myself to become this helpless. “You’re dead!”

To my utter shock, my right hand instantly heated, glowing with the same concentrated white light as the smears. I reached up to grab the zombie still nibbling on my shoulder, but only managed to brush my fingertips against his forehead.

That was enough.

He burst into ash.

Dark particles rained down, the glow fading from my hand. My shock magnified. Why had… How had… We’ve learned that whatever we speak while in spirit form happens, as long as it doesn’t violate someone’s free will and as long as we believe it.

Cole’s words filled my mind.

I tried to stand but couldn’t find the strength. Zombies…everywhere…all around me…

“Stay away!” I shouted.

They glanced at my hand, saw that the glow was fading…gone…and dove for me, pinning me down. Just like that, it was Open Season on Ali. I tried to push Bridezilla away, but she leaned down and bit me. They all bit and bit and bit.

“Let go! I’ll…kill…”

No one obeyed, and my hand did not fire back up. Another starburst of pain blistered through me. I released another scream, this one so shrill I was sure my eardrums would bleed for eternity.

A very short eternity.

I was alone, already bitten countless times. They were like animals, groaning in ecstasy, sinking those teeth in, shaking me as though they were dogs and I was their favorite bone. I was a goner.

Maim…kill…destroy…

The words filled my mind, some kind of slick, sulfur-scented oil seeming to fill my veins, coat my skin.

Maim…I should maim someone, I thought dazedly.

Kill…I should kill someone.

Destroy…I should destroy EVERYTHING.

Bridezilla’s jaw suddenly slackened. My arm fell onto the ground, limp, useless. Rattling leaves, pounding footsteps. The zombie chomping on my shoulder abandoned me. More rattling, a swish of air, a terrible roar. I tried to sit up, but again I couldn’t manage it. The burning hadn’t stopped, hadn’t even dulled. Had only increased.

Something divine suddenly scented the air. My mouth watered. A taste. I wanted a taste of it. Would main, kill and destroy for it.

A sting shot through my neck. A heavy weight settled over me.

The dark desires dulled. The “something divine” morphed into something wretched. Bile burned a path up my throat, and I gagged.

“Oh, Ali,” I heard Cole say, dread dripping from his voice. Gentle fingers brushed over my face, lifted and turned my arm to survey the damage. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry. I got here as soon as I could.”

“I don’t know how she knew,” a man lashed out, “but she caught several in our traps.” His voice was unrecognizable to me.

Those gentle fingertips returned to my face. “Every zombie that attacked you is dead, Ali. I promise you. They paid.”

“We need to get her out of here.” Frosty had said that, I think.

“I’ll take her,” Cole proclaimed, and the words were so sharp I knew no one would dare contradict him. “You take care of her grandparents.”

Take care of my grandparents how? Arms slid underneath me, hefting me up. With the movement, the burn those chomping zombie teeth had left behind intensified, and I whimpered.

“I’ve got you,” Cole said. “I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

Hours seemed to pass before we broke through the trees. Suddenly I could hear party sounds: muffled voices, laughter, fast pounding music, even splashing. Kids must be swimming.

I struggled against Cole, hurting myself further but not caring. I didn’t want anyone to see me. As strong as he was, I made no progress.

“Settle down,” he said softly. “There’s an underground passage into the room you and Kat discovered. We’ll be able to doctor you there. No one will see you, I swear. And you will recover, do you hear me? I’ve already administered the antidote. You need other treatment, but the worst that will happen is you’ll miss your curfew and be grounded for a few weeks.”

Maybe so, but my grandparents would worry every minute that I was late, and that I wouldn’t allow. “Need…call…” I managed to grit out. The pain…it was too much…too much… “Can’t…let…”

“Frosty will drug your grandparents, okay? Without scaring them,” he added, probably knowing I’d protest otherwise. “They’ll never even know he was there. They’ll get a good night’s rest, and wake up nice and refreshed in the morning. They’ll still know you missed curfew, there’s nothing I can do about that since it’s twelve twenty-five, and Frosty won’t get there for another fifteen, but they won’t know what time you actually came home.”

His voice had begun to echo. We must be in a tunnel. The underground passage, probably. If I screamed—and I really really wanted to scream—the sound of my agony would echo into eternity and Cole would forever remember me as a wuss. Can’t let that happen.

But I wasn’t sure what was worse. The potential blow to my ego, or the fact that I felt as if I’d fallen into hell’s fire.

When Cole stopped, I barely managed to turn the waiting scream into a hiss. I heard another patter of footsteps, then the whine of hinges. Then he was moving again, and I was being laid on top of a cold, hard surface. Suddenly there were voices all around me, both male and female.

“How many got to her?”

“Eight that I saw. Could have been more. A nest of them chased her through the grounds.”

“How long were they able to feed on her?”

“Don’t know. But she and I were separated for no more than an hour, so it’s gotta be less than that.”

“Any survivors?”

“No, sir.” Pride in his tone, followed by the barest of pauses. “How bad are Ali’s injuries?”

The next pause was brutal, fraying what remained of my nerves. “Very. What they got into her spirit is now in her muscles. If it sinks into her bones…”

Cole released a spat of dark curses.

Must be a very bad thing. “Help…me,” I managed. Stop talking to each other and help me! Every second was worse than the last.

My shirt was cut away, maybe even my bra. I hurt too much to care who was getting a peep show. For that matter, I hurt too much to care about my rep. I screamed, vocalizing the sharpest edges of my torment. Whoever was stripping me never paused. My boots and jeans were discarded in a hurry.

Something cold probed the wound in my neck, and my entire body bowed as I released another scream. The pain… I’d only thought I knew what it was before. This was true pain. Pain in its purest form. Pain, pain, pain.

“Knock her out!” Cole shouted.

Another question poised at the edge of my mind, but it refused to crystallize. It bothered me, whatever it was. Made me uneasy, even queasy. Or maybe that was the zombie toxin or the antidote or whatever was working through me.

After a pinch in my upper arm, something warm began to wash through me. Dizziness overshadowed that sense of pain, distracting me, and suddenly I was floating through a sea of soft clouds.

Floating…

…away…

* * *

…floating…

…back…

I fought the return to my body. I wanted to stay in this vast realm of nothingness, where troubles were a thing of the past and nothing could hurt me. But I lost this fight the same way I’d lost the fight with the zombies.

Zombies.

The word was a tether, drawing me back for good. I dropped…settling in…unable to escape.

My stomach clenched, shooting a blistering sting up and another down. A moan left me. My brain felt like a big, heaping bowl of Jell-O, and my eyelids felt as if they’d been glued together. I had to force them to part by blinking rapidly. I tried to focus. I could hear a quiet beep, beep in the background. Could smell the strong odor of room cleaner overlaid by the rank scent of rot.

A too-bright light hung above me, swinging back and forth. Last thing I remembered was the party, the zombies. Running, being chased, fighting. Teeth sinking into me. How had I gotten here? For that matter, where was here?

My heartbeat picked up speed, and the beeping sounds followed suit. I attempted to sit up but something caught on my wrists, holding me down. I twisted to look, cried out. The skin in my neck and arm pulled tight, shooting knifelike pains through every inch of me.

“Calm down,” someone said.

Not alone. Stiffening, I searched the room. The speaker was hidden from view. “Who’s there?”

“And stay still,” someone else added. “You don’t want to rip your stitches.”

“Besides, you can’t get free.” A female voice I recognized but couldn’t quite place. “You’re restrained.”

Restrained? At last my gaze zeroed in on my wrists. They were at my sides, cuffed to the gurney. Calm down? As if! “Let me go! Now!” The words scraped at my throat like glass shards in a blender.

“If you won’t calm down on your own, I’ll drug you again, and you’ll be completely helpless. Do you want to be completely helpless, Miss Bell?”

Reeve’s dad, Mr. Ankh, walked around a curtain. He’d traded in his suit for bloodstained scrubs and a lab coat. A stethoscope dangled from his neck. His dark hair stood on end, and his eyes were rimmed with red.

Beside him stepped a taller man with dark, though no less disheveled, hair. His features were rougher, the shadow of a beard on his jaw. His eyes were an electric blue, and his nose had a slight bump in the center. His face and arms were streaked with dirt, and yet his hands were scrubbed clean.

Beside him stepped Dr. Wright, who had thin, horn-rimmed glasses perched on her nose and her arms crossed over her middle. She’d ditched her dress for a large button-up shirt and sweatpants so long they’d had to be pinned at the ankles. Somehow, she appeared no less authoritative.

“How are you feeling, Ali?” she asked. “You’ve been out for most of the night.”

“I feel like I want someone to let me go. Here’s a hint. That someone is you!”

A newcomer spoke out. “They’re just going to ask you some questions. The sooner you let them start, the sooner you’ll be released.”

Tensing, I watched as Cole eased through the open door. He hadn’t changed his clothes, even though blood streaked his T-shirt and jeans. My blood, I think. A white ball cap perched on his head, his dark hair sticking out in spikes underneath. Shadows fell over his face, blocking his eyes from inspection.

“Who is he?” I demanded, motioning to the only one I didn’t know with a tilt of my chin.

“My father. His name is Tyler.”

My eyes widened as I refocused on the rougher-looking adult. Now that I knew there was a connection, I could tell that his features were similar to Cole’s. Same slightly uptilted eyes, same stubborn chin.

I forced myself to relax against the hard surface of the bed and gave a stiff nod. “Fine. Ask your questions.”

Mr. Holland jumped in first. I just couldn’t think of him as Tyler. It was too informal, too friendly when he was clearly anything but. “How did you know where those traps were? Because I’m thinking there’s no way you could have known where we’d set up an ambush unless you’d been spying on us.”

To tell the truth, or not to tell the truth? Maybe seeing glowing smears was a sign I was meant to be a slayer—one of those “many more” abilities the journal had mentioned. Maybe not. Maybe it would end all the antagonism lancing my way. Or maybe not. Maybe the antagonism would grow.

Either way, I did it; I explained the glowing smears. Their expressions remained rigid and harsh, even when they looked at each other, as though curious to know what everyone else thought.

They had me describe the smears, and I tried not to use a you-are-such-an-idiot-what-do-you-think-they-looked-like tone. They had me pick out the color from a chart on a laptop. Who could have known there were so many shades of white? They drilled me about my father, about the things he’d said and done, and then about the grandfather I’d never met.

“I think I know what you saw,” Mr. Ankh said. “Or rather, what caused the glow.”

When he said no more, I snapped, “Well. What?”

He and Mr. Holland shared a dark look before Mr. Holland nodded and Mr. Ankh said, “The Blood Lines.”

Cole had mentioned the pouring of a chemical around a home to keep the zombies out. But why would they mark the trees?

Mr. Holland flicked his tongue over an incisor. “The zombies are coming out when they shouldn’t, just to hunt you. Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Why don’t you tell me? You obviously know more about this stuff than I do.”

He stopped flicking and started growling. “You have to know something. How else would you have survived so many attacks?”

Anger exploded through me, a white-hot lance consuming everything in its path. “Are you suggesting I’m working with the zombies? That I paid them to pretend to attack me so that I’d trick you into letting me join you?”

“Did you?” Mr. Holland demanded.

“Yeah, okay,” I said in a sugar-sweet tone. “You’re right. I was having dinner with Zombie Carl the other night. You know, steaks, rare, and a bottle of vintage type A. He told me all his secrets, but too bad for you I promised him I wouldn’t tell. In exchange I asked him to gather his best undead buddies and stalk me through my friend’s yard. And oh, yeah, it was totally fine if they wanted to use me as an all-night dinner buffet, because having organs is so last season.”

Cole turned away, and I heard a dubious choking sound coming from his direction. Was he…laughing at me?

How dare he! This was my life we were talking about.

I should have zipped my lips to prevent myself from adding fuel to his amusement but my anger urged me on. “You know, there’s a very good chance I’m the best fighter in this room. Did you ever think of that?” Never mind the fact that I’d almost died. “Maybe, if you were better, you wouldn’t be so surprised when someone exhibits extraordinary abilities.”

All three adults gaped at me.

“Just so we’re clear,” I said to Cole’s father, “what exactly is it you suspect me of doing? What is it you think I’ve already done? You haven’t said. Do you think I’m going to tattle to the humans Justin Silverstone works with? Well, I won’t. Their motives are questionable, according to Cole, and I have too much to lose.”

I waited, but they offered no response. They merely stared at me, waiting. My mom had used the same technique, and I knew they hoped I would fill the silence by spilling secrets.

“Do you treat all newcomers like this?” I asked. “Did you chain up Mackenzie and question her before you accepted her into your exhalted home?”

“Uh-oh,” Cole muttered. “The questions have started in earnest.”

I ignored him.

“Cole says you’re the most curious person he’s ever met.” Mr. Holland massaged the back of his neck, an action I’d seen Cole do on more than one occasion. “But if you think we’ll answer without proof of your intentions, you’re as dumb as a box of rocks. Justin betrayed us. He taught those people how to hunt the zombies—how to hunt us. They aren’t the type to take no for an answer, and they certainly wouldn’t think twice about sending a teenage girl into our midst to destroy us from the inside. They want us gone, not the zombies.”