Magic, Mystery & Zombies: YA starter set

by Elle Klass

  After midnight a thump hit her bedroom wall, she leaped off the couch in response. The decorative Asian fan above the couch shifted. Several more thumps followed, sounding like a body thrown against the wall. She stood in the doorway, expecting someone to burst through the wall any second. A shrill banshee scream shuddered through the air, piercing her eardrums, and vibrating through her head. In pain, Alison crumpled to the ground, holding her head between her hands.

  Frozen in pain, she gripped the floor and dragged her body along it to the couch, reached her hand onto the cushion and fumbled for her phone. Then the noise stopped. Her fingers brushed against her phone and she snatched it up. Poised on the floor, she scrolled through her short phone log and redialed the emergency number then buried herself into the couch, encasing her fear-shivering body in a throw blanket.

  Rodham

  At the same moment, in his room playing Wii, a primitive wail sliced through the music, ringing in Rodham’s ears. He doubled in pain, and curled into a ball, dropping the video game controller from his hand.

  When the noise subsided, Rodham collected himself. Unable to shrug it off, he contemplated where the noise originated. Thoughts of his strange neighbors and the odd events, including his strange visions, circulated in his head.

  In the living room, he joined his parents. Their eyes fixed on the TV as they watched a movie, closed captioning scrolling across the screen. Noticing her son’s befuzzled look, his mother asked, “Everything OK?”

  He shifted his eyes to hers. “Did you hear that?”

  His father chuckled. “Two nights in a row. I’ve already called the sheriff and will make a complaint at the office in the morning.”

  Rodham shrugged and leaned back into the recliner, convinced his parents didn’t hear the shrill scream or couldn’t hear it over the pulsating music. In science class he learned that young adults were capable of hearing frequencies adults ears couldn’t.

  Within a half hour a police officer knocked on their neighbor’s door, read them the “be quiet” act and the noise stopped.

  The following two nights, the neighbors’ partying after sunset continued. Determined to understand the strange sequence of events, Rodham slipped upstairs to the second floor balcony, found a dark corner and waited. He wanted to know, see everything. His visions and the noise told him something was very wrong. No matter how absurd it sounded, even inside his own head, his curiosity drove him forward.

  The crackle of the police radio hummed before he saw the two officers. Within moments a female officer with a blonde bob cut and wide hips, along with a male, his paunchy gut swelling over his pants, rounded the corner. The man slipped a piece of chewing gum into his mouth, stuffing the wrapper into his pants and chomped, his high and tight hair style moved up and down with the motion.

  They knocked on the door and a woman with blonde highlights contrasting against her brown hair opened it. She leaned against the door frame, her long legs flowing like silk from her short denim skirt. “Hello officers.”

  “Ma’am, four nights in a row we’ve been called to this location for the same reason. I think we need to have a discussion with you and your roommate.” His head bobbed as he glanced around her at the inside of the apartment. From Rodham’s position he couldn’t see inside but not willing to give away his position, he stayed put.

  A crooked, sinister smile crossed her oval face, and she waved the officers inside. Her eyes darted right then left, scoping the breezeway before she closed the door.

  In the dark corner, Rodham waited. The music stopped, but he never saw the police leave. Fear rushed against his spine, and he leaped down the stairs, taking two at a time, and thrust his front door open. His parents looked at him wearing identical expressions of puzzlement. He ignored them, locked the door, and parted the blinds enough to peek out with one eye.

  “What’s going on?” questioned his father, as he walked towards him.

  “Police are here again, two of them tonight. They went inside the apartment.”

  “Young, irresponsible, spoiled girls is all. Their parents probably pay for the apartment to get them out of their own home.” He harrumphed. “Now that the noise has stopped we’re heading to bed.”

  “Goodnight, don’t stay up too late,” called his mother as she trailed to bed.

  “Goodnight,” answered Rodham, his eye still fixated on the apartment across the hall.

  He knew from the tone in his father’s voice he questioned his actions, but not enough to figure them out after four near-sleepless nights.

  Their neighbor’s blinds were parted slightly, allowing him to see the woman with highlighted hair, the one who opened the door, stared into the male officer’s eyes and brushed her fingers against his neck. She opened her mouth, fangs erupted from her gums. Rodham’s eyes widened as he watched the man’s blood vessels bulge from beneath his skin and pulsate as his blood pumped through his arteries. She tilted her head and sunk her fangs into his flesh, a drop of blood trailed down his neck, and under his shirt.

  Her eyes shifted towards Rodham, who stumbled backwards and blinked his eyes, the blinds falling into place. His heartbeat steady and fast inside his chest and he struggled to catch his breath.

  Chapter 3

  Alison

  A quiet, rhythmic knocking stirred Alison from her sleep. Her mind floated for several moments in the in-between before her brain registered the knocking was someone at her front door. She bounded off her bed, pushing her purple, feather comforter aside, and rushed to the door before the racket woke her sleeping mother. Worried it might be the horrible neighbors, she peered through the peephole. OMG! It’s Rodham. She raked her hand through her knotted hair and swallowed, getting a gulp of morning breath.

  Forgetting about her sleeping mom and more worried over Rodham seeing her ragged morning state, she scurried to the hall bath, splashed water over her face, ran a comb through her gnarled hair and gargled with Listerine. She glanced at her pajamas and considered changing clothes, then the knocking stopped. By the time she opened the door Rodham stood closer to his door than hers. The quiet creak of her door caught Rodham’s attention, he tilted his head then turned on his heels and walked towards her. Alison’s heart pattered at a quickening pace at the prospect of actually talking to him.

  “Hi, I’m Rodham. Your neighbor across the hall.” The deep tone of his voice played a melody in her ears.

  After untying the nervous knots in her tongue, she squeaked, “Al-i-suun.” Dork Alert!

  He scrunched his eyebrows, his forehead forming a slight valley. “Alison, would you like to meet me for a smoothie in an hour?”

  A date. He asked me out? She took a deep breath and thought carefully about her response. “Yes.” Her head bobbed up and down as the word spilled from her lips.

  “Cool. Did I wake you? Because Tinker Bell has water puddling on her head.”

  Did he just say that? She glanced at her top, Tinker Bell’s head was on her chest. Alison’s face turned thirty shades of red, each one brighter than the next. Embarrassed, her first reaction was to slam the door shut, run to her bed, whip the covers over her head and not move for a week. She couldn’t do that. Her eyes shifted towards the ground where shards of glass littered the cement catching the sun’s rays as light filtered through the open top of the breezeway. She searched her brain for a silly comeback so he’d think her “cool”, but darned if her mind went blank. She nodded.

  He smiled, a dimple poked his right cheek. She closed the door and burst into the bathroom. Tinker Bell’s head was soaked and hid nothing. Her budding nipples poked through like headlights. The thought of curling up in her bed for a week still tarried on her mind. She was indeed a wimp, but one with a date.

  She rushed into and out of the shower, flipped through the clothes in her closet, searching for something sexy. All she owned was T-shirts, denim and sweaters. Like I’d need sweaters in Florida. Might as well donate those to needy teens in Wisconsin. Disappointed, she settled for a p
air of denim shorts, a plain pink T-shirt and flip-flops.

  She tip-toed past her sleeping, snoring mother into the master bath and sifted through her lipsticks, holding each one to her lips, looking for the perfect color, then tried on the red. Uhh, too bright. She wiped it off and smeared on the frost pink, squished her lips together, bit down on toilet paper and puckered, mimicking her mother. She settled on the frost pink. Against her ghostly white skin it brought out her amber eyes, and the red highlights in her ginger hair.

  There was a smoothie shop in the strip mall beside the apartment complex. She guessed that’s the one he meant, after all she wasn’t going to embarrass herself further by knocking on his door to ask.

  She stepped into the bright afternoon light, shoved a pair of bug-eyed sunglasses over her eyes to avoid the blinding sun, and jumped into her car. A royal blue Chrysler 300 with gold pimp rims parked in the corner of the lot caught her eye, she’d never noticed it before. It must be the neighbors’? She started the engine, wiped the sweat crawling from her forehead and blasted the air. After the approximate ten minute wait, the steering wheel was cool enough to touch and drive the car without third degree burns. Rodham’s emerald green Charger was parked outside the smoothie shop.

  A ding resonated in the air as she pushed open the door at Smoothie Fresh, he turned his head and motioned for her to join him. Butterflies did sky-dives in her belly, fear gripped her head and she hyperventilated for a second before gathering her courage. Breathe, walk slowly. With careful steps she stumbled towards him. The room grew smaller with each step until his six-foot sitting form loomed in front of her. She dropped onto the seat opposite him at the table, the butterflies flapping against her insides. Breathe. I made it.

  “Are you OK?” His voice stressed with concern.

  She nodded a yes.

  His eyes shifted and the valley in his forehead returned. “What would you like?”

  You! And to not be such a scaredy cat. “Like?”

  “To drink?”

  Her amber eyes shifted to the menu boards behind the front counter, scanning the smoothie list. “Strawberry Delight,” she said in a barely audible voice.

  He nodded and strolled towards the bar, the muscles on his legs dancing with each step. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he ordered. The young woman behind the counter wore her blonde hair in a French braid that lay firm against her back, her navy eyes fastened on Rodham, only removing them when she fixed their drinks. Stabs of the green jealousy monster thrust into Alison’s heart. Her first date and already someone was flirting with him! She pushed her feelings aside, as she had no claim to him, and he clearly wasn’t flirting back.

  Returning, he placed the smoothie on the faux wooden table in front of her and slid into the opposite seat. “Thanks,” she muttered.

  One eyebrow lifted just above the other, he said in a questioning tone, “You don’t say much?”

  “I’m new.” She slapped herself mentally for her dorky response.

  “I know, remember I live across the hall. Never saw you in school before, either. Where did you move from?”

  She forced her brain and mouth to work together, afraid her one and two word answers would make her first date her last. “Um… I lived in Virginia.”

  “So what brought you here?”

  Her mind drifted home to the green covered mountains, and flowing streams with year-round chilly water. “My parents’ divorce and my mother’s new job.”

  He nodded. “I’ve lived here most my life. I know everyone at school. I’ll introduce you.”

  Home in Virginia faded at the idea, maybe she’d have friends and Florida wouldn’t be so bad after all. His small talk helped her body ease. “Thanks. That’d be cool.” She sipped at her smoothie, a chunk of fruit getting stuck in her straw.

  He twisted in his seat. “I asked you here because… Oh no! This is it. He isn’t interested in me, false alarm she thought. “…the neighbors across from me, there’s something, I dunno, not normal about them. Besides the music and parties.”

  Tipping her straw upside down she tapped it against the table to loosen the fruit chunk. She was sure all the neighbors had noticed the weird women living next door to her, and wasn’t sure where he was coming from. “What do you mean?” The fruit chunk drifted towards the opening of the straw as she sucked it out.

  Rodham’s eyes followed her curious movements then he pushed his smoothie to the side and leaned across the table, closer to her. The smell of his aftershave drifted towards her. Distracted, she struggled to hear his words. “Last night, two officers showed up. Neither came out. I watched and waited all night. Their curtains were parted and the one with highlights bit the male cop. She bit him!”

  Taken aback by his words she was confused. The neighbors partied, but biting people seemed over the top, even for them. “How do you know she bit him? Maybe she was kissing his neck or giving him a hickey.”

  His eyes turned into chocolate saucers. “Hickeys and kisses don’t draw blood. It streamed down his neck.”

  She thought for a minute about how they emerged after sundown and went quiet after sunrise and the immobilizing cry of terror. A bonafide bookworm, she knew everything about fictional creatures. The bloodsucking, fanged creatures that popped into her mind were vampires. And vampires had ultrasonic hearing! A thought bubbled in her brain. “Three nights ago, did you hear that high-pitched shriek?”

  His face stern, he answered. “Yeah, but my parents sat on the couch watching TV. Oblivious, like they didn’t hear it. And the neighbors, they sleep all day - dead silence.”

  Their eyes locked in a gaze, and their thoughts merged as they spat out simultaneously. “Vampires.”

  He leaned back in his seat, and blew out a breath of air he’d held in. “I’m relieved. I was sure you’d think I was crazy.”

  “Hmm... Vampires next door?” She paused for a second. “So if they’re sucking blood, where’s the bodies? Vampires don’t eat flesh. OMG! They’re turning them!”

  He chuckled. “You go from one word answers to several sentences. Are you a vampire expert?”

  “Yes and no. I read a lot. I mean a lot. I’ve read nearly every vampire book ever written. Each author has their own story, but some things are always the same. Vampires suck blood and on occasion turn their victims. There are so many ways they do this - like I said each author is different.” She rambled, aware of it, “Most vampires don’t want to draw attention to themselves, but ours party. That part doesn’t add up.”

  Mesmerized by the movement of her sensuous lips and the intense flame in her eyes he asked, “Your eyes are fire. Anyone ever tell you how pretty you are?”

  She flushed and dropped her eyes towards the table, her pointer finger twirling a loose strand of hair hanging from her pony tail, unsure how to respond. Having her parents and relatives say ‘You’re pretty’ is nothing like having the hottest guy on earth say it. And she didn’t feel pretty - never. “Uh… Thanks.”

  Sensing her uneasiness he backpedaled to the vampires. “If they are what we think, then who says fiction portrays them correctly, maybe real vampires are hardy partiers. So if they are vampires and they’re real, how do we prove it?” He lifted his smoothie and took a large gulp.

  Alison had no idea how to prove it and the danger terrified her. It’s not like either of them could knock on their door and say, ‘Excuse me, but I saw you bite that cop, are you vampires?’ They’d become their next meal. “Maybe we’re wrong and they’re not vampires.”

  She sucked on her smoothie and realized music was playing, Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift. If she hadn’t been so nervous over meeting Rodham she’d have noticed earlier. The smoothie shop looked like something from a teen Disney show. Pale colors, chunky pictures and faux wood tables. “So what do we do?”

  “I have a plan, but need help implementing it.” His eyes narrowed and a devious expression spread across his face. “They can’t stay inside the apartment all the time. Sometime the
y gotta leave. We go inside.” He shifted his back towards the window and set his smoothie down.

  The drifting sun shone directly on them through the huge glass windows, causing Alison to squint her eyes. His earlier position blocked the rays. She twisted in her seat away from the sun. “And how do we get into their apartment?”

  He slurped down the last of his smoothie, lifted the top and ate the chunks of fruit at the bottom. With a mouth stuffed with unidentifiable fruit bits he said, “We get the key.”

  “Could you be more specific?” She sucked slowly on her smoothie, lingering over the fruit party happening in her mouth.

  He leaned towards her, twinkles of emerald light sparkling in his brown eyes, his dimple moved with each word. “In 2008, my dad lost his job, we lost our house, and he got a job working at the apartment complex. That’s when we moved in. He only worked for them a year, but that’s how I know where they keep the keys.” Rodham stood and grabbed a pen from the bar then sat down next to her. His scent filled her nostrils, a mix of aftershave and him. Delightful!

  He drew a crude map on the napkin then pushed it towards her, using his fingers to direct her eyes. “You go in the office here, the resident computers are to the left, here. If you go straight through the office to the back and turn left, the wall is filled with keys to every apartment and they’re labeled by unit number. On Sundays, there’s only one person in the office. My plan is you distract her and I’ll snatch the key.”

  She wasn’t sure about the plan. Why me? Alison was much smaller and less noticeable. He, on the other hand, was outgoing, personable, and hot, he’d make a far better distraction she thought. “I’ll do the key snatching, no one will notice me. I’m a book nerd wall-flower. I’ll come in, pretend to use the computers, you do something to get her attention and I’ll sneak into the back and grab the key. A wall full of keys can’t be hard to find.”