Infinity by Sherrilyn Kenyon

There’s been lots of studies of chemical-induced zombies who weren’t dead first.”

 

 

Maybe that was true. But Nick wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, but what if this is like Resident Evil and it’s the Mother Virus coming to take al of us out? What then? Huh?” Nick stared at his bite mark as reality sank in and his panic overtook him. The virus always started with a bite … Zombie Zero. The first mark who started the apocalypse.

 

And he was the one.

 

“Man, first I’m shot, now I’m going to be a friggin’ zombie. At this rate, I’l never live to have my first date or a driver’s license. Ah, gah! I’ve come too far to die a pedestrian virgin.

 

Bubba, you can’t let me die … I only have seventeen more months and three days to my sixteenth birthday!” Bubba cuffed him on the back of his head. “Man up, boy, and stop with that Hol ywood crap. Zombie ain’t contagious.

 

You live in N’awlins, Nick, and I’ve been fighting them for decades. The only way to become a zombie is to be made one by your bokor.” Bubba paused as if another idea occurred to him. “Now demon bites … that’s a different story. But them weren’t demons in here. They were zombies. Plain and simple. So stop freaking out before I shoot you.” Nick took deep breaths to calm his racing heart. “Are you sure I can’t catch it?” He couldn’t even believe he was asking that. This had to be the most bizarre conversation of his entire life, which, given the usual weirdness of Menyara, was saying a lot.

 

“I’m positive. Believe me, I know my zombies.” Nick scoffed. Is it just me or is that like saying I know my elves and fairies? If it wasn’t for the fact Bubba might kil him, he’d say that out loud.

 

“I stil think we ought to disinfect the bites. Just in case it’s some military-designed bioweapon.”

 

“Disinfect what? What did I miss?”

 

Nick turned to see Mark entering the store. Yawning and scratching, he joined them from the door that led to Bubba’s upstairs apartment where he’d been asleep on Bubba’s couch.

 

 

 

Nick sighed in agitation. “See what you miss by sleeping late? Me and Bubba got bitten by zombies. I say they’re contagious. This morning only one of the kids in my school had it. Now, I just got attacked by three more. It’s spreading and it’s going to infect us al . We need to do something before it takes out al the good-looking women and leaves us with only each other. Cal out the National Guard or the CBC or something.”

 

Bubba scowled at him. “The CBC? Is that one of those new anime people?”

 

Nick rol ed his eyes. “No. It’s that place where they talk about diseases and quarantine people when they’re contagious.”

 

“Bubba, Nick means the CDC in Atlanta.” Bubba made a sound of disgust that originated in the back of his throat.

 

Mark, who was barely a head tal er than Nick, was stil dressed in his zombie-hunting ghil ie suit. Fluffs of Spanish moss jutted out from al the places where he’d tucked it in his clothes so that he’d blend in with the bayou. His face was streaked with camouflage paint and he wore yel ow-colored contact lenses that had a rim of red around them.

 

Zombie eyes.

 

Also for camouflage.

 

But that wasn’t the worst of it. As he stopped next to Nick, there was an odor so foul it took his breath.

 

Nick covered his nose to keep from being sick over it.

 

“What is that smel ?” It was like three-day-old cat vomit mixed with rotten asparagus.

 

Mark scowled at him as if he was crazy for even asking.

 

“Duck urine. It keeps the zombies from thinking I’m human.” Nick snorted. “Yeah, wel it keeps me from thinking you’re sane.”

 

“Give it up, Mark. The boy don’t know nothing about surviving. He actual y kept me from shooting zombies who were in the store trying to eat him.”

 

Mark cuffed Nick on the back of his head. “Are you out of your mind, kid?”

 

“Ow!” Nick rubbed the back of his head where they kept slapping him. If they didn’t stop, he was going to get brain damage. “And no. I was keeping Bubba from committing a felony. No offense, but ‘he’s a zombie, Your Honor, don’t electrocute me’ isn’t a viable excuse. Believe me, I know. My dad’s doing three life sentences ’cause he kil ed, and I quote,

 

‘a crap load of demons who were trying to kil me and if I hadn’t kil ed them, Your Honor, they’d have taken over the city and enslaved al you petty, pathetic humans.’ The court’s not real understanding of that excuse. They wouldn’t even let my dad plead insanity because of it. So trust me, ‘zombies needed kil ing’ isn’t a legit defense.” Mark shook his head in supreme annoyance. “Wel , it ought to be.”

 

“Hey, Bubba? You in here or are you dead?” Nick cringed as he heard the newcomers.