Alice in Zombieland - Showalter Gena. Страница 38

The muscles in his jaw clenched. “When Cole called to tell us what was going on, I had to leave her right in the middle of our get-back-together conversation. She wasn’t happy.”

An understatement, I’m sure. Kat had dressed herself up for him, had danced with him, kissed him. What he’d done was the equivalent of leaving a date at the restaurant and expecting her to pick up the tab.

“I’ll tell her you had to help me and Cole with car troubles.” It was the truth, without actually being the truth. The zombies had indeed caused car trouble. Like, we’d needed to be in one driving away stat.

“Yeah, okay.” His shoulders sagged with a measure of relief. “You can tell Kat I helped you last night. Thanks.”

He wasn’t happy with me, wouldn’t take back his threats, but he would still let me go to bat for him. Suddenly I was glad I hadn’t made any guy friends at my old school. They were more trouble than they were worth. “So what happened last night? With the…zombies?” The word snagged on my tongue. Hearing it in my own voice creeped me out, proving how drastically my world had changed. “Cole mentioned that they weren’t supposed to be on the prowl.”

For that matter, how had they known we were at the club? I know they could see us and only us, but we’d been inside the building. They couldn’t see past brick, could they? Or had their other senses kicked in? Had they smelled us?

“And why do we see them?” I finished.

“Were you like this with Cole, Miss Query? Jeez.” He shrugged those big shoulders. “He said to answer any questions you had, so fine, I will, but I don’t even know where to start.”

“Try.”

“Why do we see them? Well, why was Cole born with violet eyes? Why is your hair so pale? We’re just born that way.”

“But I didn’t see the zombies until after my dad died.”

“Sometimes it takes a traumatic event to cause a person’s ability to kick in. Others can see into the spiritual realm from birth. Why, we don’t know.”

“How was it for you?”

A pause as he gritted his teeth, letting me know he really didn’t want to answer. But did he? Yeah. “Birth. Bronx is like you, though. His mother was a drug addict and when he was eight she got tired of caring for him and dropped him off on an abandoned road. He had to walk in the cold and the dark, and the fear broke through whatever barrier was there to keep him from seeing the zombies.”

The sharpness of my sympathy nearly sliced my heart into pieces. Frosty had had to deal with this madness his entire life, and Bronx had been seeing the monsters since the age of eight, Emma’s age, after his mother had washed her hands of him. No wonder both boys looked as hard as nails. No wonder Frosty refused to trust me, and Bronx had never spoken a word to me.

“What about Cole’s parents? Do either of them see the zombies?”

Something unreadable flashed in his eyes. “His dad.”

So…his dad could see…and my dad had been able to see…but the difference in our upbringings was astonishing. His dad had probably been filled with power, authority. Mine had been filled with fear, defeat.

“How did you guys find each other? Zombies aren’t something you talk about at meeting one.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Just like the zombies are drawn to us, we’re drawn to each other. And after what Cole told me about your first morning with him at Asher, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“But he also said no one else had experienced anything like that.”

“Not to that degree, no.” Frosty glanced at a wristwatch he wasn’t wearing. “Wow. Look at the time. I need to go.”

Oh, please. But, fine, whatever. Hint taken. “Are you going to Reeve’s party tonight?” I asked as I unbuckled.

“Maybe. Someone will have to watch Cole’s back.”

Harsh. “One last question.” I stepped out of the car and into the daylight. Leaning down, smiling sweetly, I said, “Do you want me to help Kat find a new boyfriend?”

I shut the door, effectively silencing his response.

He peeled out and disappeared down the street. He might have flipped me off.

Happy that I’d had the last word, I trekked to my house. To my continued happiness, my grandparents were outside gardening and I made it to my room unnoticed. That meant I could catch a few beauty z’s before they grilled me about the sleepover. I wrote them a note, saying I’d stayed up all night—truth!—and headed upstairs to nap.

Halfway up, my cell vibrated to signal a text had just come in. The sweatpants had a pocket, and that’s where I’d stashed my phone. I read the screen, and my knees began trembling.

Screen name C. Holland said, I’ll C U 2nite. 1st WOA. Hide weapons in UR room. Never know when U might need ’em.

Weapons. I seriously doubted he was referring to the baseball bat I had up there. After seeing him work those zombies over, he could only mean knives.

This is a whole new world, Bell. Better get used to it. I trudged back into the kitchen, quietly picked two of the largest blades, plus two of the smaller ones, and prayed Nana wouldn’t miss them or find them in my room. No telling what she’d think.

Took me half an hour to decide where to hide them, but in the end I went with under my pillow for easy access, the closet, behind the door, and under a pile of books by the window.

Now too jazzed for my nap, I plopped in front of the computer, intending to research zombies, but little aches and pangs prevented me from sitting still. And jazzed or not, I was exhausted. The words began to blur together.

In that moment, I understood what my mom used to tell me. No matter your state of mind, you had to find a way to recharge.

Yawning, I placed my phone on my nightstand and climbed into bed, the covers plumping around me. To my surprise, my mind instantly quieted and I slipped into a deep, deep sleep where no dreams dared intrude. Maybe the fact that I finally had a purpose had helped usher me to this sense of peace. Maybe it had released some of the guilt that had taken up residence inside me since the accident. After all, I’d survived when the rest of my family hadn’t, and I’d been wasting my life, doing nothing but worrying. Until now.

Now, I would learn to ash the zombies. I would make a difference. I would save other families from suffering the way I had suffered.

I almost felt sorry for the zombies. Almost. I’d never been so determined in my life. They wouldn’t stand a chance.

A knock sounded at my door.

“Come in,” I rasped, trying to pry my seemingly glued eyelids apart. I wasn’t sure how long I’d slept, but I knew I needed another hundred hours before even thinking about leaving the comfort of my bed.

Nana peeked her head into my room. She’d pulled her sleek dark bob into a low ponytail, and she wore very little makeup, but then, even at her age she didn’t need much. Her skin seemed to glow today, vitality pulsing from her. For the first time, I saw my mother in her. The timeless beauty, the gentleness.

“I love you, Nana,” I said, unwilling to hold back the words that I’d denied my mother.

Her eyes instantly welled up with tears, wetting her lashes. “I love you, too. Very much.” She cleared her throat, as if to prevent a total breakdown. “So you and Kat stayed up all night, did you?”

“Yes,” I said, part of me wishing I could tell her something that would make her smile. We stayed up all night pillow fighting!

“Maybe next time you’ll go to bed at a decent hour.”

“Doubtful,” I grumbled. There probably wouldn’t be a next time. My evenings would now be devoted to Cole and zombie slaying.

“I remember those days,” she said with a wistful sigh. “Come on, kiddo. It’s time to get up and around. Lunch is on the table.”

“I’ll be down in a minute, promise.”

“No more than ten,” she replied, her stern frown ruined by the gleam of happiness radiating from her. She shut the door behind her, leaving me alone.