The Queen of Zombie Hearts

by Gena Showalter

  Cursing, they sprang into action, searching the makeshift prison for answers. Finding none.

  They focused on me.

  "Where is he?" one demanded.

  Another male strolled inside the warehouse, and he, too, sipped from a coffee cup. He wore scrubs. He was on the short side and lean, with thinning gray hair. Was that a piece of muffin in his beard?

  He was somehow familiar to me, but I was certain I hadn't met him. I would have...remembered....

  Remembered. The word echoed in my mind, reminding me that Helen had covered my memory. That I'd spent the first five years of my life--no, six years--being tested by Anima. This man must have been there.

  "Dr. Andrews," one of the guards said. "The boy is gone."

  How nice. This man from my past was the mysterious Wyatt Andrews--Hodad. The one who'd hurt Justin. Perfect. Made my job a little easier.

  Dr. Andrews stopped at the table, his gaze remaining on me. He set down his coffee and ran his tongue over his teeth. Focusing on me, he said, "We were going to do you both a favor and move you to a cleaner facility with better accommodations. Now we'll have to hurt you first." His attention shifted to the men. "Tie Miss Bell's hands behind her back and bring her over." He withdrew a small velvet pouch from the pocket of his shirt and unrolled it. Pieces of silver glinted. Weapons, I was sure.

  The three males stomped to my door.

  "How many Anima douche bags does it take to open a cage?" I asked, and I think my blase tone startled them. "Three. Because they're scared of the little girl trapped inside."

  One growled.

  One smiled coldly, probably imagining his hands wrapped around my neck.

  The other disengaged the lock and jerked open the door.

  "Heard it before?" I asked, standing. The pen I'd taken from the table was already clutched in my hand, its belly pressed flat against my forearm, hiding it.

  The first man stopped in front of me and reached for me. With lightning speed, I stabbed him in the neck. As his blood spurted, I twisted, giving the next guy the same treatment. Both tumbled to the ground, bleeding out. The other guard, the last one, was in the process of racing to the still-open door, but I dived on his back and stabbed him as we fell.

  Just like that, all three were dead or dying. And I was without a single shred of remorse.

  I stood, gaze locked on Hodad. He was paling, backing away from me. The table blocked him. It toppled over, crashed into the dirt and he darted around it. He reached for the phone in his pocket and dialed.

  Ms. Smith?

  Oh, pretty please with a cherry on top.

  I tsked. "Look at what you made me do, Hodad. Use my own hands of death and destruction. But I haven't always been so hard-core, you know. I even cried after I made my first kill. Cried over a man who'd hurt my friends and me. But do you know what I'm feeling right now?"

  Panicked, he shook his head.

  "A desire for more."

  He held out his hands to ward me off. "Stay back."

  I spread my arms and dropped the bloody pen. I wanted him dead--and I'd see that it was done--but I needed him to do something for me first.

  "Don't worry. I'm not quite done with you yet. Take me to Ms. Smith," I commanded.

  Chapter 30

  MY SOUL TO OFFER

  He must have dialed Ms. Smith from the warehouse and must not have hung up. Because by the time he parked his dark sedan at the security gate outside a magnificent chrome-and-glass building in the heart of Atlanta, Georgia, two and a half hours later, an army of guards waited for us.

  My door flew open, and I was dragged outside. My wrists were cuffed behind my back. No rope, not anymore.

  I didn't fight. Just let it happen.

  I was shoved into another car already loaded with four hulking men dressed in black. No one said a word as we shot into an underground parking garage. I twisted, relieved to find Hodad motoring after us.

  When we stopped and emerged, the hulks forced me into an elevator. Guns remained trained on me. All this for little ole me. "Really know how to make a girl feel special, guys. Kudos."

  A bell dinged, and the doors slid open. I was shoved into a foyer, a glass wall dead ahead--peering straight into a laboratory bustling with workers.

  "Welcome." A beautiful woman in a well-tailored dress-suit stood in front of the wall, her hands folded demurely at her waist. I didn't have to wonder who she was. Dark hair, slicked back from her face. Pale skin. Bloodred lipstick. Professional. This was none other than Ms. Smith. "We meet at last. I'm Rebecca."

  The murderous rage returned in a flash, and I barely managed to tamp it down. "You killed my best friend."

  "Me?" Her hand fluttered to her chest. "I did no such thing. I've been here, in Atlanta."

  "You ordered it done. So, no matter whose finger was wrapped around the trigger, you fired the shot."

  She shrugged, unconcerned. "You say potato, I say we've won." Her lips curved in a perfect crescent moon, points up. "We have everything ready for you. Let's get started, shall we?"

  Two of the guards hauled me past the glass wall and into the lab. At the back was a gurney with leather straps at the ankles and wrists. Finally, I erupted. I fought with every bit of my strength. I kicked. The moment the cuffs were loosened, I punched. I even bit into a guy's ear.

  He grunted with pain and punched me in the jaw to pry me loose. But I maintained my hold and took a piece of his lobe with me. His grunts became howls.

  I spit the bloody cartilage in his face.

  But no matter how savagely I struggled, I was eventually laid flat and shackled. As I'd known I would be. Even with all of my amazing abilities, I had limits. But that was okay.

  The saying was true, I decided. What didn't kill me would only make me stronger.

  I wanted to be stronger.

  The guards left, and Ms. Smith approached my side.

  I glared up at her. "Tie me up, hold me down. It's not going to change what I do to you. I'm going to hurt you, and I'm going to kill you--and I'm going to enjoy every second."

  She ignored me, saying, "Do you prefer Ali or Sami? Or what about Alammi? Samali?" She chuckled as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves and lifted a syringe full of clear liquid. "Here is what's going to happen. Over the next few days, I'm going to inject you with all kinds of goodies and you're going to suffer. If your spirit, and thereby your blood, possesses the properties we think they possess, you're going to become a walking cure for zombie-ism. If not...well, try not to let it bother you that all of our other subjects died during testing. We have higher hopes for you."

  I smiled without humor. "Do it. Do whatever you want. I won't die until I've spit on your grave."

  I guess my lack of fear finally got to her. She paled. "Perhaps you'd like to change your tone. I'm the only person capable of helping your friend Kat."

  "Don't say her name! Don't you dare even think her name!"

  Unperturbed, she said, "We were able to acquire and preserve her body, and we're now holding her spirit. Her zombie spirit. Yes. She was infected. If this treatment proves successful, we'll be able to bring her back to life. So do yourself--no, do your friend--a favor and don't fight me."

  I--

  Stopped. Thoughts raced through my mind. Hope flickered to startling life.

  Bring Kat back to life? Yes, please. I'd give anything. Absolutely anything to make it happen.

  But some of the flickers quickly dimmed. Could I do this? Could I willingly help Anima? I'd blasted Ethan for doing it. Hated Justin and Jaclyn for it. Took Camilla's memory for it. And yet, here I was, desperate to believe Ms. Smith was telling the truth. That Kat could be brought back. That dead wasn't really dead.

  But that wasn't the natural order.

  And if this was successful--that was a big if--would Kat even be Kat? The girl I knew and loved? Or would she be something else entirely?

  My struggles renewed, and Ms. Smith sighed. "Very well, then. We'll do this the hard way." She jabbed th
e syringe into my neck.

  Sharp pain. A cascade of fire, causing my blood to boil in an instant.

  My back bowed, and I screamed. I'd been thrown into the fires of hell, was melting from the inside, my organs liquefying. Any second, I would ash. Ash just like a zombie.

  An eternity later, the burn cooled. I sagged against the gurney. Sweat poured from me, soaking my hair and clothes. I was panting, couldn't quite catch my breath.

  Ms. Smith could not contain her glee. "You survived round one, just as I'd hoped." She smoothed her hand over my brow, and I jerked away. Unaffected, she said, "Now, let's get you comfortable. You're going to be here awhile, and I don't trust you in a room of your own. I won't take any chances with my prize."

  She moved away, and three men in lab coats came over to cut my clothes away. Everything. Bra, panties. Gone. I fought, but they managed to insert a catheter between my legs and an IV needle in my vein. It was humiliating, absolutely degrading.

  A few seconds later, I was too pumped with sedatives to care, my eyelids becoming too heavy to hold up, my limbs too heavy to move.

  Going to be so strong after this...hurt...kill...

  My head lolled to the side, my thoughts losing focus, darkening... I drifted away....

  "That's two injections she's survived," Ms. Smith said. "Two more and we'll be ready to test her."

  "She's even more powerful than we realized." Hodad. "We've never been this close to a cure. Just think what we could have accomplished by now if Helen hadn't taken her."

  "Helen," Ms. Smith scoffed. "She almost brought this company crashing to the ground. There's a perfect irony about her daughter being the one to build it back up."

  Their voices faded....

  The volume gradually increased....

  "Who should we allow to bite her first?" Hodad asked.

  "The girl, Kat," Ms. Smith said. "If all goes as I suspect, Ali will switch to our side. Then she won't fight when my father takes his turn."

  Kat...a zombie... They were going to feed me to her. Let her munch on my spirit, taking my life bite by painful bite.

  "Smith...hate you," I whispered, drifting away again.

  *

  "Miss Bell." A hand tapped at my cheek. "Miss Bell. We need you awake for this. Zombies can eat a sleeping spirit, yes, but it's not as powerful. It's like a lightbulb that hasn't been turned on."

  I blinked open my eyes.

  "Good girl."

  Bright light streamed into a room...no, into another cage. I wasn't strapped to a gurney anymore. I was chained to the back wall, a metal ring around my neck, and I was now wearing a hospital gown. Still no bra or panties, though. I jolted upright, a wave of dizziness sweeping through me.

  Hodad backed away from me and slammed the cage door, locking me inside--with a zombie.

  Not just any zombie. Kat.

  Instant game changer. My worst nightmare--my greatest hope.

  A Hazmat outside the cage. He held a remote control, and she wore a collar. Her skin had a slight grayish tint. Her hair was tangled, her eyes pink rather than red, with dark circles underneath. Her collarbone was broken, still sticking out of her skin. Her leg was twisted at an odd angle.

  Was any part of my friend in there?

  Grunting and groaning, she reached for me. I hopped to my feet, swayed.

  "Now," Ms. Smith said.

  Kat tripped forward.

  I couldn't bring myself to fight her. I just...couldn't.

  As her teeth sank into my neck, I stumbled backward, hit the wall. Sharp pains, a fire burning through my veins. Rather than push her away, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her closer.

  "Take whatever you need," I whispered. Tears streamed down my cheeks.

  "Enough," Ms. Smith said, impatient. "The barest amount should be plenty."

  Kat was wrenched away from me. Her teeth took a hunk of my flesh with her.

  I dropped to my knees, praying, waiting. Hoping.

  "It's working," Ms. Smith exclaimed. "It's actually working. They're both healing from the infection."

  The gray faded from Kat entirely. The pink washed from her eyes, revealing the hazel I so loved.

  "The toxin is gone," Hodad said.

  "She's a Witness," Ms. Smith said.

  Their excitement was contagious. Toxin...gone. Witness...like Emma and Helen.

  It was a miracle. More than I'd ever dreamed possible.

  If I'd had this ability sooner, Trina, Lucas and Collins could have been saved, too.

  Joy and despair...a painful combination. I gritted my teeth against it. I blamed Ms. Smith for what should have been. Her unconcern for collateral damage. Her lack of ethics. Her. Just her. She was more evil than the zombies I fought. They, at least, were mindless, operating on instinct. Her every action was a conscious decision.

  She had to be stopped.

  Kat's collarbone snapped into place. Her leg straightened out, and she looked around the lab with confusion. "Where am I? What's going on?" Her gaze lit on me and widened. "Ali! You're hurt."

  "Move on to phase two," Ms. Smith said.

  Using a remote control linked to Kat's collar, Hazmat forced her to exit the cage.

  "What's going on?" Kat repeated, trying to dig her heels into the floor. "Why can't I stop?"

  "Stop this!" My chains rattled as I struggled. "Let her go!"

  Kat walked to a gurney off to the side. There was a body strapped atop it--hers. She reached out, touched it. When nothing happened, she reached out again...and again.

  "Ma'am? Sir?" Hazmat asked.

  "It's not working," Hodad said.

  "Ali!" Kat said with a whimper. "Help me!"

  "Let her go!" I shouted.

  Ms. Smith sighed, ignoring me. "This is disappointing, but not devastating. We'll study the Witnesses, find a way to make use of them."

  As determined and wild as she was, Kat managed to fight past the pulses, fight Hazmat, kicking and punching, using the skills I'd taught her, and he lost his hold on the remote. It shattered, and the collar separated in the center. Kat ripped it off, tossed it away. Suddenly my best friend was floating up...toward the ceiling. She reached for me, and I reached for her.

  "Ali!"

  Our gazes met for a final time--and then she vanished.

  Sorrow ravaged me. I dropped to my knees. Gone. Again. But at least she was safe now. Anima would never be able to hurt her.

  "Idiot!" Ms. Smith snapped.

  "I'm sorry," Hazmat replied, inclining his head.

  "Save your apologies. They won't bring back the girl." She flattened her palm over her forehead, as if feeling for a fever. "Just go get the next zombie, and be more careful."

  He rushed off, soon returning with an older zombie. Male. The cage door opened, and the collared zombie entered.

  He raced for me, and I had no compunction about punching him in the head. As he stumbled back, I kicked him in the chest. Again, he stumbled. I tried to step out of my body, tried to summon the fire, but failed at both.

  "You're too weak, Miss Bell," Ms. Smith called. "And don't waste our time trying to use your other abilities. I took them. Helen wasn't the only one capable of stealing."

  No. No!

  When the zombie came at me again, I shoved my palm into his nose. Cartilage to the brain didn't slow him down. He snapped his teeth at me. I twisted, elbowed him in the temple, sending him to his hands and knees.

  "Restrain him," she said, and Hazmat thrust a metal hook into the cage, grabbing the zombie by the neck.

  He'd been dead a long while. His hair was gone, all of it. Eyebrows, eyelashes. No lashes. His eyes glowed redder than most, as if he was fed well and often. He was tall. Or would have been, if his shoulders hadn't been stooped. He wore an old suit, the cuffs and ankles frayed. I'd broken his jaw, and it now hung at an odd angle.

  "Sedate her," Ms. Smith said. "Not enough to put her to sleep, but just enough to make her too weak to fight."

  A fine mist sprayed into the confine
s of the cage. I held my breath as long as possible...my lungs, burning...come on, come on...not long enough; I sucked in a mouthful of air. It tingled going down, and I coughed. And whatever they'd laced it with broke the blood-brain barrier fast, removing the starch from my knees. I collapsed.

  The zombie was released. I tried to push him away, but the dizziness distorted my vision and I missed. His teeth sank into my shoulder and gnawed. I'd hurt when Kat bit me, but this went beyond hurt. His teeth were like razors that had been dipped in salt. I batted at his head until I finally managed to dislodge him.

  He convulsed on the concrete floor for one minute...two...and stilled. The gray tint faded from his skin, returning it to its natural tan--meanwhile, I lost the natural rose tint to my skin and turned gray. Fire spread through every inch of me, burning me from the inside out, and the gray left me, too.

  Fire, and yet, I saw no flames.

  I stayed on the ground, right where I was, stealthily looking over everyone in the room. A guard had joined the party. He had a .44 sheathed at his waist. Hodad had a pen in his pocket. Ms. Smith wore a necklace. If I could get my hands on any of those things...the rest would be history.

  I moaned, collapsing and pretending to sink into a state of unconsciousness.

  "Take my father's spirit to the special cage I had made, then take his body to the cooler," Ms. Smith commanded. I think she pressed a button. "I want the girl restrained."

  She and Hodad returned to their conversation. I ignored them, listening for the telltale click of the lock, nearing footsteps...

  There. My cue.

  On your mark...

  The guard toed me over. Get set.

  He scooped me up in his arms. Go!

  I grabbed his weapon, sliding off the safety as I shoved the barrel against his chest. A simple squeeze of the trigger, and his heart was shredded. He gasped as he toppled, taking me with him.

  Hodad got with the program real quick and raced for the cage door, slamming it shut to keep me inside.

  Mistake.

  I raised the gun, squeezed the trigger again. Click. A bullet jammed. I quickly cocked, heard the problem shell drop to the ground. Hodad was now racing toward the exit, Ms. Smith to the counter at the right, shoving papers and pens to the floor as she searched for...what? A weapon?

  I fired a shot in her direction, but she ducked. A miss!

  Gritting my teeth, I aimed at Hodad, who was just about to fly through the door.

  Boom! A bullet to the brain. He collapsed against the door, shutting it.