Through the Zombie Glass
Page 41

 Gena Showalter

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X Cole
Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
Did I want him to say what I thought he was saying?
I would have asked him, but he never made it to school. Where was he? What was he doing?
As the day eked by, I thought about calling him, then decided against it. Thought about texting him, then decided against it. I was a mess of uncertainty by the time Kat dropped me off at home.
Nana was gone. I changed into my work clothes and stuffed a few necessities into a backpack. My favorite weapons, a change of clothes, my cell and a little of the money I’d saved. I liked to stay prepared. I donned my coat, hat and gloves and left the house.
The air was bitterly cold, misting in front of my face as I breathed. Frost covered the grass, making me slip a few times. I set off down the street, walking fast. When I cleared the neighborhood, I came to a busy intersection. I passed the light and the convenience store and began to shiver. And yet the exposed skin on my face burned as if I’d crawled inside an oven. I frowned.
Sensitivity to the sun was a zombie trait.
Tires squealed. I palmed a dagger as I searched for the reason. An unfamiliar sedan with dark-tinted windows parked at the curb.
A door in back opened. “Get in,” Dr. Bendari commanded.
I stepped toward him, froze. If I did this, I would be late for work, maybe even miss my shift entirely. And if I missed my shift without calling in—would he let me call in or threaten to bail if I tried?—I could lose the job. But could I really pass up this opportunity?
Anticipation, nervousness and dread filled me all at once, propelling me the rest of the way. I jumped into the car, keeping the blade hidden but at the ready. Dr. Bendari moved to the side, giving me space. Even before I’d shut the door, the vehicle was speeding away.
Warm air blew from the vents, enveloping me as I buckled my seat belt.
Dr. Bendari studied me. “Face-to-face at last, Miss Bell.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come out last night.”
“You had guests. I know.” He looked to the driver. “Alert me if there’s even a hint of a tail.”
“Yes, sir,” the driver said.
“How did you know?” I demanded. “How do you always know?”
“I told you,” Dr. Bendari said, reaching for something on the floorboard. “My source.”
“I’m loaded with weapons,” I rushed out, waving the dagger. “Sudden movements aren’t an option for you. If you try anything...”
Dr. Bendari straightened without grabbing anything and, looking at me as if I were a wounded animal, gently said, “You need me too much to dispose of me, Miss Bell.”
“Yeah? And why is that?”
“I told you. I have the answers you seek.”
“If that’s so, why would you want to help me? Who are you? What’s your purpose? Your endgame? Why the veil of secrecy? Who do you work for? Do you have someone spying on my friends? Who is your source, dang it? I want to know!”
He rubbed his temples as if trying to ward off an intense ache. “Are you always this inquisitive?”
“Always.”
“It’s quite off-putting.”
“Well, I’m quite desperate.”
He studied me, frowned with a hint of sadness. “I bet you are.” Sighing, he very slowly reached for...whatever it was. A pile of folders. He settled them in his lap. “I’m sure you will be less than thrilled to learn this, but I worked for Anima Industries for many years.”
Even though I’d suspected, I found my fingers tightening around the hilt of my weapon.
Keeping his eyes on the road, the driver extended an arm, a gun now in his hand, the barrel pointed at my face. “I gave you a chance to put that thing away. You didn’t. Now I’m telling you straight-up. If you make a move against my employer, little girl, I’ll end you.”
“Now, now,” Dr. Bendari chided. “Let’s calm down, everyone. I said I worked with Anima, Miss Bell. In case you missed it, that’s past tense. I have since left the company. My source is still working for them, however, and that’s where he gets his intel. Whatever I know, they know, too. They are, apparently, watching you closely.”
I relaxed, but only slightly, considering what I’d just learned. I set the dagger on my thigh.
The driver lowered his gun.
“I was growing increasingly upset with their...business practices, I guess you could say,” Dr. Bendari continued. “Lately, they’ve been using cancer patients as lab rats, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I left the company, but you see, no one with my security clearance leaves Anima alive.”
“You seem to be breathing just fine.”
“Yes, and I’ve had to take drastic measures to keep it that way.”
Fair enough. “Do you know Justin Silverstone?”
“I know of him. I also know he’s playing a very dangerous game, and I’m not sure whose side he’s on. He reports to Anima, but he also reports to Cole Holland. So he’s either betraying both parties or playing one, and it’s going to get him killed. It did his twin sister.”
“What?” Jaclyn was dead?
He flipped open one of the files. I looked at the page on top—and gagged. It was a photo of Jaclyn sprawled on a bed of grass, her body twisted at an odd angle and splattered with blood. There was a hole the size of a fist in her chest.
I’d never liked her, and she’d never liked me, but seeing her body like that... A well of sympathy bubbled up inside me. “There have been no reports of her body being found.”
“I wasn’t there. I don’t know what happened. But I discovered the pictures and can only suppose someone carted her away and destroyed her. If I know Anima—and I do—there will never be a report about her.”
Poor Jaclyn. Poor Justin. I had witnessed the deaths of my family, and it had been tragic and terrible, but at least I knew what had happened. “Does Justin have any idea?”
“I’m not sure. The powers that be could have shown him the photos and threatened him with the same fate, hoping to get him to do something they wanted. Or they could have shown him the photos and blamed your group, thinking he’d seek revenge. Or they could be pretending ignorance. They are very good at all three.”
I believed him. Justin could be the spy, out to avenge his sister and the part he thought Cole had played in her death.
“I see the wheels in your head spinning. However, my source is not getting his information from Justin’s reports. There is someone else spying on your group, Miss Bell, but I don’t know the male’s identity.”
Male, he’d said. Not a girl paying a boy.
Trusting myself, remember. It’s not Gavin. “What do you know about me?” I asked. “About my...condition. And how do you know? Or maybe a better question is, how does your source know?”
“At first, my source knew only that you had been bitten and begun to act strangely. I deduced the rest. Then you were seen producing a red fire rather than a white one.” His expression was sad as he flipped through another folder, showing me photo after photo of people trapped in cages. Human people, not zombies. Only the more photos he showed me, the more zombielike those people became. I was horrified.
“These people are nothing more than guinea pigs,” he said. “They were diagnosed with cancer, but without the medical insurance to pay for treatment. They were desperate enough to try anything. They’ve been experimented on—with my formula.” There at the end, shame dripped from his voice. “I first came to work for Anima with the hope of creating a medication to increase life expectancy. A fountain of youth, if you will. Then I learned I was supposed to do it through the zombies.”
“You can see them?”
He shook his head. “My staff and I weren’t able to see into that other realm like you slayers, and we can’t leave our bodies without help, so we can’t see or touch the creatures until they are ringed.”
Without help? What help? First, I concentrated on the most important thing he’d revealed. “Ringed?”
“Our version of your Blood Line.” He showed a picture of a large metal band. “It goes around their necks and sends out electrical pulses that make the creatures tangible, but the pulse does something to the zombies... Eventually works them into a frenzy, and that frenzy makes them stronger. I’ve had more coworkers have to be killed because they’d been bitten during a frenzy than for any other reason.”
“Are you planning to put me down?” I asked with a tremor.
“No. Of course not.” He frowned. “Tell me exactly what happened to you, Miss Bell.”
I was surprised he didn’t already know every stinking detail. “Justin was bitten by a zombie. He then bit me. We were both given the antidote. He recovered, but I got worse. And now I’m slowly turning into a zombie, which sucks more than you probably realize, because my spirit is toxic to zombies—and that means I’m toxic to myself.”
He sighed. “I knew you were becoming a zombie, but I hoped I was wrong.”
“How did you know?”
“I recognized the signs.”
“You also know I’m seeing things. Hearing whispers.”
“Yes. As the essence of the zombie takes over your body, you begin to see into both the spiritual and natural realm at the same time.”
“I could already see into both realms.”
“Not to this degree. One realm will always be more real than the other. Right now you’re in transition.”
I gulped. “Have you ever saved someone like me? Someone infected with the zombie toxin, after it’s too late to be cured by the antidote?”
He played with the wedding ring on his finger. Ignoring my question, he said, “I had no idea you were dealing with the other problem. The allergy. So, all right. Let’s break this down piece by piece.”
I took that as a no and swallowed my cry of distress.