A Mad Zombie Party - Showalter Gena. Страница 32

I drop the gun and reach up with hands now cold and shaking. They’re instantly drenched by something warm and wet. My throat has been...cut?

Hurried footsteps cause the wood beneath me to vibrate. The slam of a door registers, as does realization. BG left me here, alone, to bleed out.

My lungs burn for air, any bit of air. I’m going to die, even though I’ve never really lived. It’s the very fate I almost delivered to Ali, and I deserve it, I know I do, but I’m not ready. Not here, not now. Not like this. Not before I’ve saved Frosty.

Panic hits me, but it only makes my bleeding worse. Frosty could be... Fog drifts through my mind... Could be hurt...hurt, yes...oh! The pain. The burn. Hurt... I need to warn the others of the threat, but...but... And if I have any hope of survival, I need help, too. Help, yes... The fog is growing thicker by the second... Think, think...

I need...Frosty.

Yes! Frosty! He still hates me, but he wants me well so that Kat will continue to visit him. He’s the only person who won’t look at me and think “good riddance.”

No, no, not true. Justin. He’ll help me.

But I want Frosty.

As my strength dwindles and the burn rages on, I pat the ground for my gun. As soon as my fingers curl around the handle, I aim the barrel away from my body and squeeze the trigger. Boom! I try to fire again, but the muscles in my hand go lax.

A moment passes as I wait, an eternity.

Darkness begins to descend. I fight to remain conscious. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to end for me. Right? If I’m dead, how will I save Frosty? What will happen to him?

“Camilla!” Suddenly, frantic hands are pressing something, a cloth maybe, against my wound. “Who the hell did this to you?” He shouts for Cole... Bronx.

Bathroom Girl, I try to tell him, but no real sound emerges. I wish I could open my eyes, but I don’t have the strength. Cemetery. Darts. Again, no words escape. Blood bubbles up my ravaged throat and gurgles from the corners of my mouth.

Frosty curses with a violence that might have made me grin in any other situation. A moment later, the cloth is gone.

“This is going to hurt,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

Behind my eyelids, I can see a sudden blaze of light. Heat wafts across the air between us. He’s just summoned dynamis?

Oh, yes. He has—and now he’s pushing a part of his spirit inside my body, the way he does with zombies, letting the flames devour my heart. My lips part, a silent endless scream unleashed. My back arches, the fire blistering through me, charring everything. The pain...the pain...utterly unbearable, worse than anything I’ve ever endured. And I’ve had my throat slit! I’m melting. I have to be melting.

“What the hell happened?” Cole demands.

“I don’t know,” Frosty snarls. “Help her. The dynamis has stopped the bleeding, but she’s lost so much blood...too much. And damn it, the wound hasn’t closed.”

“Good glory no, no, no,” Ali babbles. “This can’t be happening. She’s not supposed to die yet.”

Yet?

Doesn’t matter. What I considered unbearable a few seconds ago? I’m soon taught differently. The others push fiery hands into my spirit, and it’s too much. The darkness covers my mind and I know nothing else...until strong arms slide underneath my shoulders and knees, lifting me.

The burn is gone, my body now boneless. I have no control as I float a thousand miles, the journey bumpy. I’m cradled against something hard and hot—Frosty’s chest. I can feel the swift drum of his heartbeat, smell the deliciousness of his scent... Wait. I can smell! I’m breathing.

“This way.” A girl’s voice, familiar to me. Reeve, maybe. “Gently...yes, like that. Careful!”

More jostling.

“Milla? Milla!” River’s voice now. “Damn it! Let me have her!”

The jostling stops, but the lack is jarring and my head wobbles, pulling at the skin on my throat. I whimper.

“Get out of my way,” Frosty says.

“Give her to me,” River demands. “Now.”

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” Frosty at his meanest. Most people would crap their pants in fear right now, but my brother isn’t most people.

“I like you, my friend, but I will kill you to get to my sister.”

“You won’t live long enough to kill me,” Frosty says. “Move or die. I’m going to save her, and you’re in the way. Last chance.”

The pain only increases as another warm gush of liquid trickles down my chest. I’m bleeding again, fog rolling back in, darkness on its heels, throwing me out of the present and into a hidden corner of my mind, where I’ve stored the worst of my childhood...

“You think you see monsters, little girl? I’ll show you a monster.” Spittle sprays from Daddy’s mouth. He unbuckles his belt and slowly draws the leather from the loops. I know he’s taking his sweet time on purpose, giving panic time to settle deep inside me.

When he finally takes his first swing, he ensures the buckle slams into my hip. Screaming, I scramble away from him, but he follows me and the blows just keep coming. Skin and muscles tear. Bones crack. As much as I hate this—fear this—I’d rather he hit me than Caroline. My twin. My love. My life. She’s weaker, and takes far longer to recover. Not just physically but mentally, too. I’m afraid her mind will one day break.

Just as my father draws back to deliver another blow, the scene morphs, and I’m suddenly trapped in a closet so dark I can’t see my hand in front of my face. But it doesn’t matter; I have to stay still and quiet. River said so, right before he rigged the handle so no one could open it without a fight. Through the door I hear my father screaming at my brother, calling him terrible names, demanding to know where I am. Caro’s dead, and he wants me to take the blame. I’ll spend a little time in juvie, he said, but if he’s blamed, he’ll spend the rest of his life behind bars.

I want him behind bars. He did it. He did it, he did it, he did it, and I hate him. I hate him so much I’m choking on it. And in that moment, I hate Momma, too. She left us to save herself, making everything worse for us.

She’s as much a monster as Daddy.

Without her, Caro and I were supposed to be the women of the house. We’re responsible for Daddy’s breakfast, lunch and dinner. But Caro is a terrible cook, so I’ve been preparing the meals on my own. Problem is, we stayed in the park longer than I intended, waiting for the creatures from my nightmares to appear. I want Caro to see them, just once, so she’ll know River and I aren’t crazy, so she’ll listen when we tell her to run and hide.

River even asked around town and met another boy—Mace—who told him we don’t have to be afraid anymore, he can teach us how to fight.

I want to fight. No more helplessness. No more fear.

I just... I want to start this day over. I want to save Caro.

A crash shakes the foundation beneath me. I hear a thud, a whimper. The closet door is wrenched open, hinges broken, wood shards raining all around me. Light floods inside and my eyes tear against the brightness. Suddenly my father is standing before me, his features twisted with dark rage. I cower back, trying to hide behind the winter coats, but he finds me...and he grins.

“You can’t hide from me, little girl.”

“I’m not gonna do it.” I crawl to the side. “I’m not gonna say I hurt Caro.”

“You will.”

I look away, not wanting to watch as he removes his belt. I see River lying on the floor. His eyes are closed, his lip split. There’s a lump on his jaw. He’s curled around Caro protectively, and he’s still, so still. Is he dead, too?

Rage bubbles up inside me. Daddy killed my sister and maybe my brother. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! Now, I’ll kill him.

With a screech, I launch at him. I hit him with every bit of strength I possess, but it’s not enough. He laughs and swings his fist at me.