Through the Zombie Glass

The boys lived up to their promise.

A few days later, after I’d gotten caught up on my schoolwork, a grinning Cole strode into the bedroom. It was Tuesday afternoon, and Kat and Reeve were in class. Nana was downstairs making cookies.

She hadn’t wanted to leave my side, but she’d started to cry every time she’d looked at me, and her worry had pricked at the darkness writhing and frothing at the back of my mind, banging at the barely standing barriers.

I’d told her I had a craving for something sweet.

Cole leaned down and kissed my forehead, his lips soft and perfect. I wished I’d had the energy to fix my hair and slap on a thousand pounds of makeup.

Maybe it was a good thing all the mirrors had been removed from the room.

“You should be at school,” I said.

His grin only widened. “School shmool. I’ve got a surprise for you.” He swept me into his arms and carried me through the house...then down the stairs and into the basement.

I sniffed, expecting to smell rot. There was a good chance he had a zombie down here. But no. I smelled copper. Dried blood. I frowned. Then I heard the rattle of bars.

Frosty, Gavin and Bronx formed a wall of menace in front of one of the cages, and Cole shouldered his way past them to give me a front-row look at— Ethan.

If I had been standing, I would have fallen from the shock.

One of his eyes was swollen, and there were several cuts on his bottom lip. Someone—or four someones—had beaten the crap out of him.

Gavin winked at me. “We did good, yeah?”

Frosty cracked his battered knuckles. “Hunting him down was easy. Taking him captive was easier. Still. You’re welcome, world. Now, who wants to watch me get a little information out of this douche purse?”

I would never live that down.

“You didn’t capture me,” Ethan spat. “I gave myself up.”

“Sure you did,” Bronx said. “After we pounded your face into the dirt.”

Ethan shook his head. “Just listen. The same way my father got the zombies to enter people’s homes, he’s sending the zombies to Cole Holland’s barn tonight.” He drew in a breath. “My father captures and collars the creatures, and lets some of them go. The collars have GPS, and he’s able to monitor their whereabouts. Then, through electrical impulses, he’s able to lead the zombies to where he wants them to go.”

Remote control zombies. Nice.

“If that’s true, why haven’t the zombies entered any other houses?” Cole demanded.

“The night they entered the houses was a test to see if it would work. Tonight isn’t a test. My father wants Ali back. He thinks she’s the key to saving my sister. Izzy only has a few more months to live—if she’s lucky.”

“Which gives you motive to pretend to help us,” Cole said.

Ethan shook his head, sad. “Believe me. I learned my lesson. I can’t save someone I love by hurting someone else I love.”

Like Cole, I remained suspicious.

Cole returned me to the bedroom and tucked me back into bed.

“What are we going to do about the supposed zombie attack?” I asked.

His knuckles ghosted along the curve of my cheek. “I’ll plan my own attack. Meanwhile, you’ll rest and regain your strength.”

Translation: I wasn’t to be involved.

“I have to go,” he said. “But I’ll come back after... I’ll come back.”

Then he was gone. And I was alone.

I didn’t worry about the outcome of the coming battle.

I drafted a new to-do list.

Only one item: don’t let my friends go into the danger zone without me.

When I was at my best, I was an asset. I could be at my best again, if only for a little while. So, when Nana came in with cookies and milk, I thanked her and kissed her and sent her on another errand. I told her Mr. Ankh was at work (finally), and his PMS—personal male secretary—wasn’t here to guard the office, then asked if she would grab the bag filled with vials of antidote.

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