Through the Zombie Glass
Page 51

 Gena Showalter

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I wasn’t going to get through to her, was I? “Seriously, how did you find me? And who is we?”
“I can answer that.” Ethan moved to her side, watching me warily.
Ethan? The potential spy?
Great. Wonderful. This couldn’t get any worse. “Fill me in before I have a panic attack.”
“Well, for starters,” said another female, “I found out about the zombies.”
Reeve stepped up to Kat’s other side.
Okay. It was officially worse.
“My dad doesn’t know that I know,” Reeve said.
“When you disappeared, Reeve did some investigating, and told me what she learned,” Ethan said, “and that’s when we discovered the zombies, and your whereabouts, and decided to bring Kat in to help us save you. You’re welcome, by the way. Do you have any idea what we had to do to hack into Mr. Ankh’s computer and get the coordinates to this place?”
I hoped that was rhetorical.
“In other astonishing news,” Kat said before I could process everything I’d been told, “Frosty and I broke up—of course. He wouldn’t tell me where you were being held.”
“I doubt he knows.”
She waved away my words, and I noted her hand was trembling. “Semantics.”
“You have to stop pushing that boy away every time you’re feeling vulnerable,” I said. “One day he’s going to stop coming back.”
Her mouth opened, closed.
“Enough chatting,” Ethan said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Wait.” The three of them weren’t safe with me, not without a trained slayer nearby, but if there were zombies out there tonight, they wouldn’t be safe without me. I’d have to escort them to their car, wherever it was. “Give me a minute.”
I stalked to my bedroom, dressed in a black shirt, camo pants and combat boots. Then I strapped blades to my ankles and wrists, sheathed a larger revolver at my waist and stuffed two smaller ones in my pockets.
I phoned Cole but immediately went to voice mail. Either his phone was now turned off or it was in use. Probably in use. “Ethan, Kat and Reeve just showed up at the cabin. I’m going to walk them back to their car. I’ll also try to do a little detective work on Ethan. Call me.”
When I returned, Kat wouldn’t meet my gaze. Dang it. I shouldn’t have stepped into her business. I thought I’d learned my lesson in the butt-in department.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and squeezed her hand.
She nodded, the action stiff.
I read the fine print: not forgiven. I sighed. “Follow me.” When we reached the front door, I drew in a deep breath for strength. My hand trembled as I twisted the knob, and my knees knocked as I walked outside. Cold air enveloped me, hugging me with unwelcoming arms of ice.
A forest loomed around me. A dusting of snow had fallen, leaving the slightest glaze of white. It was pretty. I stiffened, searched the darkness...but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Where’s your car?” I asked.
“On the road outside the forest,” Ethan replied. “We didn’t want your captors to hear us coming.”
I’d talked to Cole about the area, and knew we had a two-mile hike.
“I’ll take the lead,” I said. “You guys will do what I say, when I say, without any argument. I’m serious. I love you girls with all my heart, but if you question me out here, I’ll knock out your teeth, I swear I will.”
Kat finally cracked a grin. “Look at you, all forceful.”
Ethan stepped in front of Reeve, protecting her from my supposed wrath. Did he understand I’d do what I’d threatened—and so much worse—to him?
“Stay behind me.” I entered the forest, listening. Footsteps crunched behind me. No sound in front of me. Good. We maneuvered around trees, going downhill, minute after minute ticking past.
“So, Ethan,” I said, “have you ever heard of Blood Lines?”
“No.”
“Then why do you have them around your house?”
“Your friends asked me the same question, and I’ll tell you what I told them. I don’t know.”
He was lying. He had to be lying.
“How did you and Reeve meet?”
“Can we not do this now?” he asked tightly.
“You’re right. We’ll wait till we get to the car. We’ll put the girls inside, and then you and I will walk away for a little chat.” Afterward, there was a chance only one of us would be walking back.
“Ali?” Reeve said. “What’s going on?”
He nodded readily. Too readily? “The car.”
“I’ll let Ethan explain it later.” We reached a small, round clearing, the sky no longer shielded by the tops of the trees. A big white cloud shaped like a rabbit appeared to be...pulsing. There. Gone. There. Gone. There.
I stopped, stiffened. Smelled nothing I shouldn’t.
Hungry, a voice whispered. So hungry.
Hmm. Smells so good.
Must have.
Want.
Mine. Mine, mine, mine.
The zombies were out, and they were nearby.
“What is it?” Ethan whispered, his voice trembling.
“Kat, Reeve, climb the trees behind you,” I demanded, palming a dagger and a gun. “Now!” I scanned the line of trees in front of us. At the far right, a bush shook, snow dancing to the ground.
A second later, Emma burst through, even though I hadn’t summoned her.
Panic bathed her expression as she ran, her tiny arms pumping quickly at her sides. “They’re coming!” she screamed. “Leave! Alice, leave now! It’s a trap!”
A trap? I couldn’t leave and protect my friends. What was more, I wasn’t going anywhere without my sister. I launched into motion. As I raced, I tried to push my spirit from my body, but Z.A. wrapped her hands around me and anchored me inside.
“Let go,” I screamed at her.
She laughed.
Behind Emma, zombies broke through the thicket.
They were chasing her?
Oh, heck no. She was a spirit. They were spirits.
They would be able to touch her.
Not on my watch.
The closer we drew together, the faster we both pushed ourselves. Then she darted through me, the contact shoving my spirit out of my body, making Z.A. shriek in pain.
I stumbled backward, my body remaining in front of me. The cold should have thickened. Instead, I felt embraced by warmth. I looked back. Emma had finally stopped—in front of Ethan. She swung her fists at him, but no contact was made. He stood beside a tree, his hand resting on the bark. He was unaware of what was happening around him, watching me, his expression grim. The girls were nowhere to be seen. They must have obeyed me and climbed.
I turned back to the zombies, aimed the gun and squeezed the trigger. Boom, boom, boom! Boom, boom, boom!
Bodies fell...only to crawl back up. I threw down the gun, the clip empty, and grabbed a second dagger. The creatures came closer and closer, moving faster than ever before. Almost within reach... For the first time in weeks, those red, evil eyes were utterly focused on me. Eager for a go at me? Oh, yeah. Whatever the reason—had Emma done more than freak out Z.A.?—I was once again a target. I pounced.
My daggers slashed through one throat, two, six, then severed a spine, two, eight, rotted arms continually reaching for me. Blackened teeth chomped at me. At least no other whispers bombarded me. I arched backward, forward, avoiding being grabbed. I turned, stabbed. Turned, stabbed, staying in constant motion, knowing a single moment of hesitation would lose the battle for me.
I swung a zombie in front of me, using him as a shield as I spun around and stabbed his partner in the side. Black goo sprayed in every direction. Then I decapitated my shield.
No one else made a play for me, and I realized a wall of writing bodies had formed, blocking the others.
I climbed out, on alert, and my new targets stalked around me as if pondering the best course of action.
Some were mindless. These were not. And they weren’t just stalking around me, but were inching closer and closer, closing in. I exploded into motion—crap, I’d lost my daggers. I slammed the heel of one hand into the jaw of the zombie on my left, and the heel of the other into the throat of the zombie on my right.
As multiple other arms stretched out, I rolled to the ground, knocking several of the creatures off their feet. Coming up with two new guns, I aimed, fired, aimed, fired, taking no more than a second for each action, but always swinging my arms to ensure that I got the zombies closest to me.
I shot a zombie in the face, and both guns clicked. Out of bullets.
As a new horde approached me, I pressed the button on the side of the handles, causing blades to extend from under the barrel of the guns. Gnarled arms reached for me. I crossed the weapons in front of me and hit two creatures in the temple, twisted, hit two more, twisted, hit two more—
A hard fist slammed into my jaw.
Stupid stars, winking at me. Still I managed to duck, missing a second blow and forcing the zombie behind me to take the brunt of the impact. I straightened, grabbing another zombie, intending to use him as a shield, but his arm detached. I stumbled to the side, my momentum jacked. One of the creatures shackled my wrist and tugged me to the ground. Jerking free, but losing my hold on the weapons, I rolled, once again knocking down several of the zombies.
“Light up!” I shouted.
The smallest of flames flickered across my knuckles, and it was white. Relief speared me.
Footsteps behind me.
I twisted, reached out to brush my fingertips against the zombie closest to me. He didn’t ash, but he did hiss and stumble away from me.
He came back for more, the fool, and I did it again. This time, he batted my hand away, determined. Someone stepped up behind him, stopping him, attaching a metal collar to his neck. He sagged to the ground, motionless.
I looked around, confused.
Hazmats surrounded me, and they were snapping collars on the rest of the zombies.
Realization sent me backpedaling, but I ran into something solid. I turned, already swinging, and nailed a Hazmat in the chin. He stumbled to the side and would have given me a clear shot to my friends, but three other Hazmats took his place.