Alice in Zombieland

“I don’t know,” he growled. “All I do know is that this is for your own good. One day, you might even thank me.”


I’d give this one more shot. Just one. “What about the visions?” Please. Change your mind. Want me.

“For all we know, they’re glimpses of what we’re supposed to avoid.”

I flinched, his words echoing hollowly through my mind, at last breaking me. No, he wasn’t going to change his mind. And now, I didn’t want him to. He was done with me, and I was done with him. I’d tried, at least. He couldn’t say the same.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No. You should have. But I won’t thank you later. I’ll thank you now.” He might have broken me down, but I would never let him know it. I rallied my wits. I was stronger than this. “You were right. We’re no good for each other. See you around, Cole.”

The hinges groaned as I opened the door. Without a backward glance, I strode away from him. Though my vision was blurring, I could see that kids were milling around the kitchen, still drinking beer.

Someone grabbed my arm from behind, stopping me. “Do you have a ride?”

Cole had followed me out.

“Yes,” I said, sounding as far away as I felt. Well, I would have one. I’d ask Kat.

“All right then.” He let me go, moved away from me and disappeared around the corner.

I stayed where I was. I’d finally found a purpose for my life, a way to deal with my loss, and he wanted to take that away from me. Newsflash, Cole Holland. I won’t let you. I wouldn’t be fighting the zombies with him—so what. I wouldn’t learn trade secrets from him—so the heck what. I would do everything on my own.

I stomped into the living room. First thing I noticed was that Justin was gone and so was the dark-haired girl who’d doctored him. Mackenzie, Frosty and Bronx were gone, too. I found Kat on the couch, two-fisting bottles of beer. She was paler than before, trembling even.

Having dealt with my father in all the stages of his alcoholism, I knew how to handle her—with force. I pried the bottles from her kung fu grip and waved my fingers. “Keys.”

“Why?”

“I’m driving you home.” I kept the fact that I’d had only a few lessons and hadn’t yet gotten my license to myself.

“Oh, all right. He always does that, you know,” she grumbled as she dug in a hidden pocket of her dress. “Jumps to obey Cole’s every command. Go, Cole says, and he goes. You need to fix that. I mean, I was hoping you’d distract Mr. Authority, keep him busy so that Frosty could crawl after me properly.”

“I think Cole just dumped me,” I grumbled back. I didn’t think; I knew. At least the hurt was fading. I was even numbing out. “Besides, we weren’t really dating.”

“What! He dumped you? Justin must have beat him senseless.” She held out a glittery key chain in the shape of a cat. “There’s no other reason he’d do something so stupid. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him!”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but he just wasn’t into me enough.” I took the key and helped her up. She swayed, so I wound my arm around her and ushered her toward the door. No one tried to proposition me. Had they, I might have shoved their noses into their brains.

“Let’s get married, me and you, and have a thousand babies together,” Kat said. “That’ll show ’em!”

“What a fantastic idea. Let’s talk about it in the morning.”

Outside, cool night air stroked my arms and face. Clouds had appeared en masse, obscuring the moon—I jerked to a halt. There was my rabbit. Bigger than before, even brighter, holding something small and round in its hands.

“What’s wrong?” Kat asked. “Is your car phobia acting up again?”

“Something like that.”

“You’ll do fine. My car likes to steer itself, hence the reason for my crashes. But seriously, you won’t have any trouble.”

“We should—” I saw a flash of movement behind the far tree…saw the train of a dirty wedding gown…smelled the rot.

Too soon, I thought, ice crystallizing in my veins. The zombies shouldn’t be out tonight. They should be resting.

“Is that cloud spinning or is it just me?” Kat asked.

I glanced at the rabbit. The round thing in its hands now had hands of its own—clock hands, tick, tick, ticking away. It had come to warn me, I realized. Not about a car wreck, but about the zombies. The time had come; they were here.

“Go inside, Kat. Don’t let anyone out here, okay?” I gave her a push toward the door. I figured—hoped, prayed—Cole, Reeve’s dad, someone, had doubled up the Blood Line thing around the perimeter. I wasn’t sure how that worked or how long it lasted, but figured the more the better.

“But why?”

“Don’t ask questions. Please,” I said. “Just trust me.”

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