A Mad Zombie Party

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A Mad Zombie Party Page 26

by Gena Showalter


  She flinches. "Yeah. Okay. My bad."

  "We'll find Love another way," I tell Milla.

  She latches onto my shirt, giving me a shake. "There is no other way."

  Desperation radiates from Chance. "The longer we wait, trying to think of something else, the more damage Anima can--and will--do to Love."

  "But trading one life for another isn't our way. Is it?" I snap at Ali.

  Ali withers. Milla only raises her chin.

  I cup her cheeks. "I'm not willing to risk you." Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever. "We've got time. Love will be kept alive. She's a bargaining chip now."

  "Frosty--"

  "No." Since our kiss, my obsession with her has become as much a part of me as my arms and legs. I never should have walked away from her. I should have stayed with her, continued to lose myself in her. Should have told her how I felt--feel. I'm as desperate as Chance. As possessive as Cole. As determined as Bronx. But I didn't, and this is the price I must pay.

  "Come with me." She takes my hand and draws me into the hallway. After shutting the door behind us, she anchors her hands on her hips and glares up at me--

  --I'm in bed, curled in a ball and sobbing. I'm drowning in despair, dejection and a sense of rejection I can't shake. I want him, I want him so bad I can barely breathe, but I'll never be more than a passing fancy to him and--

  --Milla gasps, and the vision fades.

  I just saw the night we kissed. Through her eyes. I'm responsible for those tears. Me alone.

  I'm gutted.

  I'm ashamed.

  "I'm sorry," I croak. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

  Spots of heat ignite in her cheeks. Glaring, she waves my words away. "I don't want to discuss that. The only subject on the table right now is your attitude."

  She wants to stick with business, fine. We'll stick with business. "What you suggested in there? The toxin? It's too dangerous."

  "Don't pretend to care about my well-being, Frosty."

  I care. I care too damn much. "I'm not pretending. You matter to me."

  "Oh, really. I matter so much you left me seconds after your ex caught us together. I matter so much, you've kept your distance ever since. Sorry, but I can do without your particular brand of caring."

  I guess business is over.

  She reaches for the door. "I'm going forward with my plan, with or without your approval."

  I cup her by the nape, holding her in place. I mean to tell her the terrible consequences she'll face if she saves my sorry hide. I mean to tell her the reason I've stayed away from her, the reason she has to stay here and stay safe. I can't handle even the thought of losing her. But the moment we're skin-to-skin, heat-to-heat, nothing matters but tasting her.

  I rasp, "I owed Kat a goodbye," and smash my lips into hers.

  She doesn't open for me. Not at first. Then she moans, and our tongues find each other. I back her into the wall. Her hands tangle in my hair as I run my own down her sides, palm the back of her thighs and lift her off the floor. She wraps her legs around me and tilts her head, letting me take her mouth deeper, harder. I kiss her as if it's the last time I'll see her. As if it's my last night on earth. As if she's the only girl in existence--because she is. To me, she is.

  The boy I was craved Kat. The man I am craves Milla.

  The taste of her drugs me. She's headier than a bottle of Jack, and if I'm not careful, I'm going to lose track of my surroundings, forget the war and carry her to bed, where I'll keep her for at least a week.

  I'm panting as I pull back and set her gently on her feet.

  She peers up at me with passion-glazed eyes. "Are you going to run away now?"

  "I'm done running. I'm right where I want to be." I flatten my hands beside her temples, my body caging hers, I breathe her in, enjoying the heat she radiates, and lean in to nuzzle her cheek. "I'll let you go after Love on one condition."

  From languid to stiff in a blink. "You'll let me?"

  "We need to reduce the risk to your life by pinpointing the path the helicopter took. Someone somewhere had to see something, maybe even posted about it online. Maybe satellites picked up images."

  "Chance is an expert hacker. If he can focus, he can search for both."

  "I'll make sure he focuses." I kiss the tip of her nose before returning to the weapons room. Chance is pacing back and forth, and I step into his path. He pauses. I punch him in the jaw, sending him reeling to the side.

  When he straightens, blood trickles from his mouth. "What the hell, man?"

  "Are you focused? Good." I tell him what I told Milla. "Maybe even search for nearby buildings with helicopter pads on the roof. There can't be very many."

  "Brilliant," Ali says. "We should have all the equipment you'll need, Chance."

  We make our way into the security room, where keyboards and monitors abound. As Chance works, Ali calls for Kat and Emma.

  Emma arrives in a flash of light.

  "Any details you can share?" Ali asks.

  "Well, I've got bad news, good news and more bad news." The little girl plays with the hem of her tutu. "Here's the bad. Rebecca remains hidden from us. Here's the good. We sued her witnesses and won, and they're supposed to tell us Love's location. Kat is with them now, waiting for an answer. Here's the other bit of bad. The witnesses claim they don't know."

  Ali scowls. "Are they lying?"

  "If they are, they'll be punished. If they're telling the truth, they have to do everything in their power to find her." One of Emma's ears twitches, and she inclines her head. "I've got to go. I'll return when I learn more." A second later, she's gone.

  That's something, at least. And by the time River returns, Chance has deduced the bird landed somewhere downtown. Everyone but Milla dons a suit, forgoing the face mask for now.

  Rather than loading one of the collared zombies into a van we've doused with Blood Lines, Reeve hands Milla a syringe. "This is a weakened version of the toxin. Inject yourself right before you begin the search."

  The group heads to the garage. Cole takes the wheel, and Ali takes the front passenger seat. The rest of us pile into the back. The entire drive, I hold Milla on my lap, protecting her while I can.

  Cole parks in a darkened alley, and Milla turns to me, gifting me with a soft smile.

  "I'm going to survive this, whatever it takes."

  "Good. Because I want another kiss."

  "More than one, I hope."

  "Greedy girl." I lightly smack her ass. "All right. You talked me into it."

  She flips me off before pushing her spirit from her body and stepping out of the van. It takes everything I've got to stay put when every protective instinct screams to go after her.

  "Masks," Cole says, and we anchor our face masks into place.

  I move to the front of the van, crouching between the seats, watching as Milla takes her place in the headlights.

  She sits against a wall. Trembling, she lifts the syringe to her arm. Deep breath in...out... She injects the toxin. Her eyes go wide, in seconds turning neon red. Pain contorts her features, but she manages to stand.

  I glance at the stopwatch hanging from my neck and press Start. In ten minutes, I will inject her with the antidote whether she's found Love or not. Nothing and no one will stop me.

  She stumbles forward. One minute bleeds into two...three. Cole ensures the van remains directly behind her. The sun is in the process of rising, but it's so early in the morning that very few people are on the streets; those who are pay no attention to Milla, and she pays no attention to them. Civilian is not what's for dinner.

  Four. Five. Six minutes.

  Tension knots my stomach, ice chips crystallizing in my blood.

  Seven. Eight. Nine.

  I'm busting out of the van in thirty seconds flat.

  "What's she doing?" Cole pulls over and throws the van into Park.

  I focus on Milla, who is clawing at the glass doors of an office building.

  Ali rips off
her mask. "Love has to be in there."

  Thank God. I fly out of the van and shove the needle deep into Milla's neck. She collapses in my arms, trembles as I carry her to the vehicle. As gently as possible I place her on the floorboards while the rest of the slayers strip out of their suits and pour into the streets, armed up and ready to go.

  Milla struggles to sit up. "Did I find her?"

  "We'll know in a few minutes." I slap a .44 in her hand. "Stay here. Make sure the van is ready to go when we come out."

  "I will."

  No argument?

  I don't want to leave her behind, not weakened like this, but this is Milla--strong and stubborn Milla--and there's no way she'll let anyone get the drop on her.

  I shed my suit.

  "Frosty?"

  "Yes."

  "Stay safe."

  "You owe me kisses, remember? There's no way I'm not coming back." I rush toward the building and take stock. The lights are snuffed out, and there are no shifting shadows to indicate movement. My friends are nowhere in sight, either, but a hole has been cut in the glass and the alarm system has already been disabled. I duck through the hole.

  The rustle of clothing, the shuffle of shoes.

  I follow the sounds and find Chance, who is standing behind a kneeling man, his gun aimed and ready. The other slayers are busy at the dock of monitors, rewinding and watching footage.

  "One and only chance." Chance cocks the gun. "Tell me where she is."

  The man actually pees himself. "Th-the injured girl? They took her to the third floor. But I didn't hurt her, I swear. I was told to watch the monitors and report any suspicious activity. I--I didn't notify anyone about the brunette at the door. I wanted to help her, and I knew they'd tell me no."

  "Thank you." Chance slams the handle of the gun into the guy's temple; he slumps forward, landing with a thud.

  Had to be done. If we'd left him conscious, he could have pulled the alarm the moment we walked away.

  "He was telling the truth." Bronx points to one of the monitors. "They're on the third floor."

  Chance sprints to the elevator.

  "Frosty, River, Gavin, Jaclyn, you guys take the stairs," Cole calls as he, Ali and Justin pile into the cart with Chance.

  I get it. Just in case one entrance is guarded and the other isn't, we won't all be gunned down at once.

  On high alert, we race up the steps. At the third floor entrance, River slides a tiny mirror under the bottom crack. When he ascertains no one is lurking nearby, I take the lead.

  The lights are on. As quietly as possible we inch around the corner and--

  Meet up with the others. So far so good.

  Together, we stealth our way through a lobby, past a built-in reception desk and through a set of locked doors. I'm very good at B and E.

  "--nice to me," a muted male voice says, "and I'll be nice to you. All right, pretty girl?"

  The skid of chair legs, a thump...masculine laughter.

  "Leave her alone," another man says. "We're supposed to watch her. Nothing else."

  An animal growl erupts from Chance as he shoulders his way into the room. Two muffled shots ring out--pop, pop--the silencer on his semiautomatic doing its job. I'm right behind him, the others pouring in behind me. I take in the scene. Love is bound to a chair and gagged; she cries with relief when she spots us. There's a cut on her forehead and dried blood on different parts of her body.

  Five agents. Well, four now. One is writhing on the floor, a bullet in each hand. The others are still on their feet, two gaping at us, the other two reaching for weapons.

  "I wouldn't, if I were you," I say, take aim. "All I need is an excuse."

  They still.

  Yeah. That's what I thought.

  "Get Love to the van," Cole commands, but he needn't have bothered. Chance is already cutting her ties. "As for the others..."

  I smile. "Let's use them to send a message to Rebecca."

  I'm fading in and out as the van soars down the street. The moment everyone exited the building, I nearly collapsed with relief. Cole slid into the driver's side, nudging me away from the wheel. I would have landed on my butt if Frosty hadn't come up behind me and caught me.

  I must have fallen asleep in his arms. Now voices jolt me awake.

  "--should have seen it, Nana." Ali must be on the phone with her grandmother. "Five bodies, one of them bleeding profusely, each pinned to the wall in the shape of a letter. And do you know what four of those letters spelled? Yeah, you can guess. It starts with an F and ends with a K...are you kidding me? Nana, why would we spell fork?...seriously? What the heck is a fink? No, no, we made the last guy contort into the letter U, does that help...yeah, I know. I laughed so hard I almost pulled a muscle!"

  Darkness tugs me back under...

  "Dude!" Gavin's voice booms at high volume. "Milla brought the heat tonight. A real fork you to the enemy. You owe her your life, Love. And if I know Milla, and I do, all she'll want in return is for you to strip naked and dance for us."

  "Do you want to die?" Chance asks.

  "Barbie," Ali says, and I know she's speaking to Gavin. "Because you made such a ludicrous suggestion, you have to strip and dance for us. All of us."

  Snicker, snicker.

  "I thought you'd never ask." I can hear the smile in his voice.

  "Oh, hell. He was serious. Put it back on!" Cole is laughing too hard; I can't make out his next words.

  A chorus of "yes" rings out, but darkness returns, the world quiet once again.

  The next thing I know, I'm rolling over in bed. Bed? Gasping, I jolt upright, waning sunlight greeting me. Wow. I must have slept the day away, drained by thanatos and toxin, a horrid cocktail. I shudder as I recall the pain, the unending, all-consuming hunger.

  I'm alone, no sign of Frosty...who owes me a kiss.

  As I shower, anticipation energizes me but also scares the crap out of me. Has he changed his mind? I tremble as I don a pink top with lace and a short white skirt. As good as it's gonna get right now.

  When I emerge from the bathroom, Ali and Kat are sitting on the bed.

  "Hey." I expected Kat to confront me sooner or later, but I should have known she'd bring backup.

  "Let's just get it over with," Kat says. "But first, let's procrastinate. You look pretty, Milla. Tough and pretty. And it's totally not fair. I kinda wish you were a toad."

  How am I supposed to respond to that? "Thanks?"

  "We're not here to complain," Ali says.

  "Right. We're here to, ugh, I can't believe I'm doing this, but...ugh." Kat meets my gaze, sighs. "Milla, I want to apologize."

  Apologize? "For what?"

  She gapes at Ali. "Fork! She still doesn't know?"

  "Know what?" I demand.

  "Good glory." Ali's shoulders slump in. "I expected Frosty to tell you."

  "He's not here. You are. Explain."

  Kat toys with the ends of her hair. "We told you that you'll save Frosty's life, and you will, but...you die doing it."

  "Die." The word echoes in my mind, cutting like a dagger. I'm bleeding shock and betrayal, though I have no right to the latter emotion.

  Sow and reap. I'm reaping.

  But what of these two girls? They castigated me for something they themselves were doing. It's hypocrisy, plain and simple.

  I want to lash out. How dare they! But feelings are fleeting, I remind myself, and right now, an outburst will be counterproductive.

  "I'm sorry," Ali says. "I didn't know you when we first approached you, and granted, at the time I was angry with you, even hated you. You helped Anima hurt me. But I never should have--"

  "Stop." I hold up my palm. "What's done is done. Now we move on and figure out what to do."

  But...but...can we do anything? No one has ever changed one of Ali's visions.

  I need to face facts. I'm going to die. Because, at the end of the day, I'm going to save Frosty. That's not even a question.

  "I'd feel better if you yell
ed at me," she grumbles.

  "I'm sorry, too," Kat say. "We had no right. We aren't your judge, jury or executioner."

  The ragged edge of my anger dulls. "Here are the facts. If I knew in the beginning that I'd die, I might not have agreed to guard Frosty." I wouldn't have had a chance to get to know him. Or come to admire and respect him...to crave him more than I crave air to breathe.

  As if on cue, the door opens, and he enters the room. He's wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans that hang low on his waist. His feet are bare, and he looks good enough to eat. Figuratively, I mean.

  He notices the girls and pauses, then nods to Ali, to Kat, before staring hard at me. "I heard voices."

  "We were just leaving." Ali stands, gives me a hug--a hug I return--and slinks from the room.

  "Again, I'm sorry," Kat whispers. "I wish... Well, it doesn't matter, does it. Wishes mean nothing. Actions mean everything." Then she, too, is gone.

  Frosty scowls. "They told you about the vision." A statement, not a question.

  "Yes," I reply. "And I get why they kept quiet, I really do."

  "You're taking it better than I did." He shuts the door with a firm click, then turns the lock, sealing us both inside.

  "You wouldn't think so if you'd peeked into my mind a few minutes ago." I scrub a hand down my face. "I should have figured things out on my own. The guilt they so often projected, your treatment of me after Kat confessed all." As I speak, I'm hit by another realization; shock sends me into another tailspin. "You didn't want me near you, didn't want me acting as your shield because...you care about me. My life matters to you."

  He raises his chin, unashamed of his feelings. "I told you that already."

  Yes, but I never really believed it until now. "Frosty," I say, and take a step toward him, my heart singing. But another realization strikes and I still, the singing fading to quiet. Only one of us has a future. He's going to watch me die.

  "I want you to leave town," he says. "You don't owe me. You don't have to atone for your past. Go to college. I'll pay--"

  "Are you freaking serious? How about this? I'll leave if you leave."

  He shakes his head, adamant. "I can't abandon my friends in the middle of a war."

  "Neither can I, snowman." I will be here for him.

  Navy blue eyes beseech me. "I need you alive, Milla."

  And I need to touch him. I move forward; the moment I reach him, I sink my greedy hands under his shirt, directly on his chest--over his heart. His skin is white-hot, velvet over steel.

  "No one is guaranteed a future," I remind him, and his heart hammers so quickly I can't count the beats. "No one, not with a vision or without. All we have is today, this second." And I don't want to waste it. "You promised me a kiss."

 

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