Through the Zombie Glass - Showalter Gena. Страница 27

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.”

“Maybe this one is important.”

I knew he didn’t mean that in a conceited way. His tone was too confused. “Maybe we’re not getting whatever it wants us to get.”

“So the visions are alive? Sentient?”

“No,” I said with a shake of my head. “But our minds are at work here, and they know what we get and what we don’t.”

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Let’s forget the vision for a minute. You remember grabbing your ears during the fight, as if you were hearing something you shouldn’t?”

I squirmed in my seat. I’d either heard Zombie Ali—Z.A., I thought, because I hated pairing my name with that description—or the other zombies. Both options sickened me.

“Yeah.” He turned the key, gunned the engine. “You remember. What’d you hear?”