The White Rabbit Chronicles

by Gena Showalter

  My father was a zombie.

  My father, whom I’d placed in the line of danger.

  My father, whom I had served up on a silver platter.

  He was beyond salvation.

  How was I supposed to deal with this? With a shaky hand I picked up the journal, flipped through the pages. Answers were in here. I knew they were. If only another passage would morph...into...English.

  Even before the thought finished, several paragraphs cleared, hieroglyphics changing into letters.

  Throughout your fight against the zombies, you’ll face many hardships. People will call you crazy. Some of your family and friends will be bitten. Some of your family and friends will die.

  Never forget that evil is evil. You cannot change it. You cannot lead it to the light. But, if you let it, evil can lead you to the darkness.

  You’re probably wondering who I am, how I know what I know—and how you’re reading this. No, it’s not magic. I wrote this for those who are in spirit.

  In spirit. I wondered if that meant I would be able to read every word if I left my body. Wondered if the others would be able to read it if they left theirs. Maybe, but at the moment I was too wrung out emotionally to care either way.

  If you’re reading this while you’re in the natural realm, then you’re like me, more conscious of spiritual things. If you’re having trouble reading it, don’t worry. When your mind is ready for the rest of the information, you’ll be able to read the passages.

  Do you want to know more about the evil? No. No, I think you’re more interested in love. You want to know what you can do to save the people you love. I know, because I hungered for that information, too. Tell them the truth. Teach them. The unseen, unknown enemy is still the enemy. If they know, they can fight. If they refuse to believe you, you’ve still done your best.

  My eyesight hazed from a new flood of tears. I wished I had told Pops the truth. I wished I’d taught him to fight. Now, it was too late.

  * * *

  I must have cried myself to sleep, because the next thing I knew, a knock was shaking my window.

  I wrenched awake, hair tumbling around my shoulders and the journal falling to the floor. I rubbed at my eyes, my heart hammering in my chest. Cole raised the pane and slipped inside my room—but that only made my heart beat harder. He was armed for war. He wore black from head to toe, had the black smudges under his eyes to absorb light, had knives anchored on his arms and hilts sticking out of his boots.

  “I’m sorry to do this now, and this way, but you ignored my calls and texts,” he said, “and we need you. We found a nest inside a house about a mile away. We’re going to flush them out, and we need your help. We’ve never seen anyone light up like you did or ash a zombie so quickly, and we hope you can take them all down.”

  Fight the enemy. I could do that, no matter how bad I felt. “I need to change.”

  “Hurry.”

  As I geared up in the bathroom, Cole said hesitantly, “I saw your sister today.”

  I stilled, the shirt I’d been pulling on catching on my ears.

  “I heard her, too,” he added.

  Then he knew. He knew my father could be part of this new nest.

  “I’m sorry, Ali.”

  Shaking now, I finished dressing and stepped into the room. Cole was leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

  “Can you do this?” he asked.

  Could I? I’d ended my grandfather. My dad would attack me if given the chance, just as Pops had. In another life, Dad would have hated himself for that. And in that other life, I think he would have wanted me to end him permanently. But could I really live with myself if I ended him a second time?

  “I need to tell my grandmother I’m leaving,” I said, ignoring his question. “And someone will need to come over and protect her.”

  He accepted the change of subject without comment. “Already thought of that. My dad is on his way here.”

  Okay, then. Together we pounded downstairs. Nana was walking around the corner, looking older than her years. One glance at us and she realized what was happening. To my surprise, she didn’t try to stop me. She planted a kiss on my cheek and said, “Be careful.”

  “We will,” I assured her.

  “We’ve reinforced the Blood Line around the house,” Cole said, “and my father should be here any minute. He’s going to stay with you for the rest of the night.”

  “Th-thank you.” She left us then, without demanding any details. Probably because she’d started crying.

  I wanted to run after her but forced myself to stay where I was. “I hate this. All of it.”

  “I know, but the only way to make things better is to keep doing what we’re doing.” He cupped my cheeks and looked into my eyes—and the world vanished—

  —I was lying on my back, coughing, blood gurgling from my mouth. Cole hovered over me, tears tracking down his cheeks—

  —I was standing in front of him again, the vision gone as quickly as it had started.

  “That was...” He shook his head. “You’re staying here.”

  “Because I might be injured?” After he’d just told me the only way to make things better was to keep doing what we were doing? I shook my head violently. “We don’t know when the visions come true. The first took forever to happen, and besides that, I can’t stay here the rest of my life, hoping to avoid this one.”

  “You were dying!”

  “I would have healed.”

  “I’ve held death in my hands,” he shouted, shaking me. “You were dying, and you would not have healed. Therefore, you’re staying here. Let me and the others deal with this.”

  “No. You said you needed me.”

  “Ali, please. I can’t lose you to—”

  “Stop.” Though my mouth had dried up and fear swam through me, I put on a brave face. “You’re wasting time.” I brushed past him, reaching for the door. “You can stay if you want, but I’m going.”

  I stepped outside. The sun was setting, the sky a haze of azure and violet.

  Masked men swarmed me.

  Screaming, I scrambled backward, thinking this was an illusion, an extension of the vision, but someone managed to wrap me in his iron-hard arms and cart me toward a waiting van while the others converged inside and tackled Cole. I could hear the whistle of his blades, the hiss of his breath.

  I fought my captor but failed to loosen his hold.

  Behind me, a loud boom erupted. I and the man holding me were lifted off the ground by a hard blast of heat and propelled into the side of the vehicle. My skull cracked against the metal, and my eyesight dimmed. Shards of wood rained as I watched the man scramble up.

  “Alice, my sweet Alice,” I heard someone say from inside the van—and I recognized his voice.

  My father had come for me.

  * * *

  I woke up tied to a chair, confused, my eyesight still dim but gradually clearing. Severe pain tore through my head. My entire body ached. I felt as if I had time traveled to the day after the car accident, when my world had collapsed around me.

  Well, my world had just collapsed again.

  Memories flooded me. Cole, coming over to my house. The vision of my death. Leaving the house—or trying to leave it. Masked men attacking. Me, grabbed and carried away. The explosion. The van. My father.

  Cole. Nana.

  Bile burned a path to my throat. They had survived. I wouldn’t believe anything else.

  I struggled against my bonds. I had to find them, had to get them help. As I tugged at the rope, I realized that I was in some kind of lab. The lights were turned low, but I could see people in lab coats buzzing around in every direction. I could smell a copper tang in the air, as well as the putrid odor of decay, and I gagged.

  “Good. You’re awake.” A female wearing a hazmat suit stepped into my line of vision. She lifted her mask, and spread her arms wide. “Welcome to Anima Industries.”

  “Dr. Wright,” I wheezed. “Did they get you, to
o?”

  “How sweet. You trust me so much, you’re willing to overlook the evidence and convince yourself I must be a prisoner, like you.”

  In seconds, the smugness of her tone sliced that trust to ribbons, revealing the truth. I didn’t want to believe it, but there was no denying it. She was a spy. A traitor.

  “There we go,” she said with a nod. “You’ve just realized I was using your little group for information, nothing more. That my men weren’t following the zombies but the tracker I’d placed in everyone’s boots. Made things so easy.”

  Will destroy her. “You said I could trust you,” I gritted out.

  “I lie about everything.” She chuckled. “In fact, I might even be lying about lying. Impossible to tell.”

  I tugged more fervently at the ropes. “Did you bring Cole and my grandmother here, too?”

  “No, I didn’t, and no, I don’t know where they are. The bomb was not our doing, and they were missing when my men went back to search what was left of the house.”

  The truth? Or just another lie in a long string? “Why are you doing this?” I demanded.

  She rested one hand on her hip, a regal pose not even the hazmat suit could ruin. “Cole’s father wants to destroy the zombies. We want to use them.”

  Use absolute evil? “Why?”

  “Why else? Money. They are weapons. No army can withstand them. We can use them to destroy whosoever the highest bidder desires from the inside out—and we’ll never have to lift a finger.”

  “But they’ll kill us, too!” Not to mention the rest of the world.

  “No. We’ve learned to control them. Let me show you.” She looked over my shoulder and motioned with her finger.

  A moment later, the lights brightened. I squinted, tried to twist, but couldn’t quite manage it. The sound of shuffling footsteps filled my ears, and then Jaclyn came into view. She, too, was wearing a hazmat suit, the clear mask revealing a shamed expression—another lie surely. She held the end of a rope.

  A rope attached to my dad.

  I blinked, froze. He was as tall as I remembered, but his hair had thinned. His skin possessed a grayish cast, and there were dark splotches all over his face and neck. He wore a suit, the cuffs and hem frayed.

  I’d wanted to see him for so long, had missed him so much, I experienced a sudden surge of elation. Elation that was squashed as eyes that glinted ruby-red in the light drilled into me.

  “Let me go,” I said, my struggles renewed. Whether I’d try to aid him or end him, I wasn’t sure.

  Unbidden, my spirit began to separate from my body—

  “Oh, no, you don’t. You stay put,” Dr. Wright snapped. “Your spirit will be tied up, too, because yes, you’ll take the ropes with you, but that will only cause a zombie uprising that I’ll have to contain. If that happens, I’ll be so irritated I know I’ll end up bringing your friend Kat to the lab to teach you a lesson.”

  Grinding my molars, I forced myself to settle back in.

  “Join...us,” my dad rasped.

  “His cognitive process has astounded us,” Dr. Wright said, and she actually sounded proud. “Usually by this point, they are mindless, hungry, but all he wants is to spend time with his only living daughter.”

  Tears seared my eyes. He’s not your dad. Not really. Just...don’t react to any of this right now. You’ll become hysterical. You can react later.

  Drool dripped from the corner of his mouth. His fingers curled, as if he were readying himself to attack. “Together...again. Us.”

  A few days ago, I would have given anything for a moment like this. A chance to be with him, to talk with him, and now I had it. He might be one of the undead, but he recognized me and wanted me with him always. He missed me.

  I admit it. I missed him, too, so very very much, and part of me was tempted to accept. Tempted, yes, but I knew better. “No, Daddy. I can’t.” My tears spilled over, tracking down my cheeks.

  A pause, the moans and grunts of other zombies piercing my ears. “Please.” More drool dripped from him.

  “No need to answer again,” Dr. Wright said. “It doesn’t matter. We’re going to let him have you.”

  Fear exploded through me, and I jerked at the rope, the abrasions on my skin splitting open. Warm liquid trickled down my fingers and pooled on the floor. The moans and grunts mutated into snarls, the zombies whipping into an abrupt frenzy.

  They’d scented my fear.

  I forced myself to still.

  “I had hoped you would realize we were the better choice,” Dr. Wright said with a sigh. “Your abilities intrigue me.”

  “Too bad, because I would rather die than help you.”

  “That’s what I thought you’d say.” She smiled with ice-cold assurance. “But when you become a zombie, do you really think you’ll be able to resist me? You see, the ropes are laced with the chemical Cole uses for his Blood Lines. The zombies can’t break them, which allows us to maneuver the creatures wherever we desire. And when we put the zombies with a human, instinct takes over.” Dad hissed at her, and Dr. Wright glowered at him. “Enough.”

  He wrenched at his own binding.

  Jaclyn stumbled. “Dr. Wright—”

  “You will behave yourself,” she snapped, and I wasn’t sure whether she was talking to the girl or to my father. “Do you want me to feed Ali to other zombies?”

  My dad, then. He gave another wrench, a much harder one, and this time Jaclyn was forced to release him or topple to the ground.

  “Stop—”

  He sprang at Dr. Wright, clawing and biting at her, but he couldn’t get past her suit.

  Dr. Wright grabbed hold of his rope and attempted to wrestle him to the ground. “Enough of that, Mr. Bell. You’ve already earned Ali’s punishment. Now you’re working on your own.”

  “Taste!” my father shouted.

  I heard shrieks erupt behind me, the rush of footsteps.

  “They’re escaping, Dr. Wright,” someone shouted.

  “Keep with protocol!” she demanded.

  Hisses of determination sounded next. More footsteps. Then more still, though these were lighter. People screamed. Zombies grunted. Then sharp needle-like pricks were jabbing at my neck and shoulders, shooting acid straight into my veins. I screamed and flailed as my chair fell forward. I tried to slip out of my body, desperate to protect myself and fight, but my strength was compromised by all that acid. At least my bonds finally loosened, and I was able to free my arms.

  I twisted and batted at what could only be a nest of zombies—but my hands merely ghosted through them. They were spirits, and I was human. The original biters stumbled away from me, gasping, choking, but that didn’t help me. Line after line of zombies wanted a turn with me, and the next line simply surged forward.

  “Daddy!” I screamed.

  Maim...

  Kill...

  Destroy...

  The thoughts bombarded me, as every point of contact with the zombies scalded me. Soon I felt as if someone had peeled away my skin, exposing raw muscle.

  The second line stumbled away, and the third stepped up to the plate. They were like sharks, burrowing deep, past skin, muscle and hitting bone, uncaring about the bright light shining down on them.

  Maim...kill...destroy...

  No, I thought. No! I would not give in. People could fight the evil urges, Cole had said, and I would fight. If I could win this battle, maybe I could survive the infection.

  Maimkilldestroy...

  NO!

  “Stop,” I said. “You will stop.”

  One by one, all of the lines began to fall away, unable to resist the power of my words, natural realm or not. When there was no one else around me, I still couldn’t force myself to rise. My entire body felt bathed by flames.

  “Stay...back,” I rasped.

  From this angle, I could see the entire room. Several hazmats were lying on the ground, struggling to escape. Zombies, so many zombies, tried to claw past their suits. Zombies litt
ered the floor, practically climbed the walls, and swung from the equipment. The ones who had yet to attack me formed a wall at my left, shaking with the need to return to me.

  Maybe they would have broken free of my faith-filled demand, but suddenly my dad loomed over me, his big body blocking them. His eyes flashed red in the light, and he licked his lips...lowered his head... “Join me. Will join me.”

  His words were as powerful as mine, and I found myself trying to sit up to reach him. “Daddy, I love you. Please, help me. You have to help me.”

  A howl rent the air, followed by another and another. The zombies that had formed the wall, wanting a go at me, were collapsing, their bodies spasming.

  “Ali!” I heard from across the room.

  Cole! Cole was here!

  Maim—

  No! I thought again. NO.

  My dad straightened, turning to confront the newest threat.

  “Ali!” Cole shouted again.

  “Cole! I’m here.”

  More howls erupted, this time followed by groans of pain.

  The battle between zombies and slayers had begun.

  My dad fought beside me, tossing his fellow zombies into the walls, away from me. Adrenaline pumped through me. If I stayed in this spot, he would, too, and one of the slayers would kill him. And with the way my dad was helping me...well, I couldn’t let that happen. He was fighting the evil, too!

  I closed my eyes and tuned out every ounce of my pain. It wasn’t easy, but I found a way, the intensity of my determination allowing nothing else. Slowly, my spirit began to rise from my body...rise...I can do this...the moment I was completely free, I experienced a rush of strength, the cold air battling the fever heat. Cole tossed me two daggers.

  A zombie rushed toward my dad from the left, but he was occupied with the one on his right. Leaping into action, I crisscrossed my arms—nailed a jugular—parted my arms, swung—nailed another. My body arced forward and back, my feet constantly moving me through the swarming masses. But even if I’d lacked skill, I would have dominated. These zombies were weaker than any I’d fought.