Through the Zombie Glass

Him: I actually watched the Hallmark channel 2day & thought of U. The main couple went at it like monkeys.

Where was he? Who was he with?

The questions began to plague me, but I never asked. I wanted him to offer the information freely.

Monday.

Him: I hear Z’s were out last night in Bama. U being careful? I know U walk home from work—when I get back I’m teaching U how 2 drive, no more excuses from U.

Me: I’m being careful, swear. Are U?

Him: When I’ve got something precious 2 come home 2? YES.

How did all caps make me feel so warm and fuzzy?

Tuesday.

Him: I’m in a bunkhouse with six other guys, & 3 of them snore. Am considering offering myself 2 the Z’s on silver platter just 2 escape.

Me: No girls there 2 soothe UR pains?

What a subtle hint.

Him: Why, Ali B, is that jealousy I detect??

Me: NO!

It was. It so was. Lying? Really? Over this? I kind of sucked.

He didn’t respond, and I reeled with guilt.

Wednesday.

Him: There’s only 1 girl 4 me.

After that, the texts stopped coming. Another week passed. I couldn’t allow myself to worry. The more stressed I was, the weaker my body was, and I needed my body at top strength.

Mr. Ankh had managed to duplicate the antidote, so I had an unlimited supply. And as long as I injected myself three times a day, all signs of Z.A. were kept at bay.

Check off the list: disabled.

Side note: for now.

How long would the reprieve last? Not much longer, I didn’t think.

But I wasn’t going to worry about that today. Nana and I stood on Kat’s doorstep, a glass partition between us and warmth. Just as Nana raised her hand to ring the bell, an apron-wearing Kat stepped into view. She smiled when she spotted us.

She was pale today. I’d gone to a few of her dialysis appointments and knew she’d had one late last night. She had three a week, sometimes four, and they were grueling on her, but she never complained—more than a dozen times.

“Hurry up before you freeze us all!” she said, waving us in. Flour streaked her cheek, and there was a smear of something red on her chin. “Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

This morning, I’d called for Emma, needing her face to be the first I saw on Christmas, just as it had been when she was alive. She’d arrived with a huge smile and hadn’t seemed to mind that she was dead (in body) and that our family wasn’t together. I was trying not to mind, as well.

Nana had given me a glass heart, with tiny pictures of my mom, dad, grandfather and sister peppered throughout. I would cherish it forever. I’d given Nana a bracelet with a charm to represent every member of our family.

Two guys sat in the living room with Kat’s dad, Gary. All three guys stared at the TV, riveted by the football game. My attention became riveted on one of the guys and I stumbled to a halt, nearly dropping the pumpkin pie I held.

“Cole,” I gasped. He was back. He was here.

He hadn’t called or texted me.

Three pairs of eyes swung in my direction.

Gary stood and grinned. “Nice to see you again, Ali.”

“You, too,” I said with a distracted nod.

My gaze remained locked with Cole’s, my heart careening out of control. I waited for a vision, hoping, praying, but...no. Not this time. “When did you get back?”

“Three days ago,” he admitted through tight lips.

Three days. Why had he stopped texting? Had he met someone else? I swallowed the questions I clearly had no right to ask, but couldn’t swallow my hurt. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

Kat patted me on the butt. “After I explained to Cole the consequences of not coming, he was more than happy to show up.”

“Threatening people again, Katherine?” Gary tsked.

“Always, Daddy.”

“It’s one of the things I like best about her,” Frosty said.

Gary ignored him and looked to Cole. “I’m sorry about that, son.”

“Don’t be.” Cole looked me over, seeming to drink me in, and I shivered. “I wanted to be here.”

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