A Mad Zombie Party (The White Rabbit Chronicles Book 4). Gena Showalter

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Название A Mad Zombie Party (The White Rabbit Chronicles Book 4)
Автор произведения Gena Showalter
Жанр Учебная литература
Серия MIRA Ink
Издательство Учебная литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474032704



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fine hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I stiffen. I’m being watched again, I know it, but I can’t pause to look around.

      We make it in front of the slayers without a scratch, but I see zombies coming in hot from behind the group and keep going, meeting the newcomers head-on. I slash, elbow and kick, always ducking to avoid fingers snagging in my hair, hopping to the side to avoid being grabbed by the ankles.

      “Gavin,” Cole calls. “Car!”

      They’re leaving? Yeah, probably for the best. By now, they have to be as weak as newborns. I only fight harder. Retreat isn’t in my wheelhouse. A few minutes later, the sound of squealing tires registers, then high beams are shining up close and personal. Zombies stumble backward to avoid being burned by the light, and suddenly I’m without an opponent.

      Panting, I take stock. The horde has backed away from the slayers. Ali and Jaclyn are lying on the ground and moaning in pain, more riddled with bites than the others. Guess they tasted better.

       Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice. Boys are made of snakes and snails and rattlesnake tails.

      The childhood song plays through my head as Cole, Gavin and Frosty fire up their hands. The group wasn’t abandoning ship, after all. And now, I’m once again awed as the flames on Cole and Gavin extend to their shoulders...correction, all the way to their rib cages. All three boys crouch beside the girls and flatten one hand on the chest of one girl and the other hand on the chest of the other. The girls catch fire and scream, bucking and fighting to get away, but eventually they settle down, their wounds healing right before my eyes.

      “Sorry about this, my man, but you need it whether you agree or not,” Cole says, then flattens his palm against Frosty’s chest.

      Frosty grunts and lurches backward, quickly severing contact.

      “Hey,” I shout as I bound over. “You don’t get to touch him without his permission.”

      “This isn’t any of your business,” Cole snaps at me. “Stay out of it.”

      I open my mouth to reply—

      “Stay out of it,” Frosty repeats. With less heat, but still. A rebuke is a rebuke.

      Boys!

      I look away, the hairs on the back of my neck practically dancing now, and spot a girl standing beside a tombstone. Her face is cast in shadows, but I can see her hair stretches all the way to her waist, where the light shines. The strands are so black they gleam blue. Is she a civilian?

      When I take a step toward her, she scrambles backward. If she can see me, she’s not a civilian. One of Cole’s new recruits, here to observe the battle? To learn?

      “Hey,” I call, and she bolts. Nope. Not a recruit. I give chase. Anima wouldn’t be stupid enough to send someone to observe us so openly. Right?

      Right, because Anima no longer exists. I wonder how many years I’ll have to remind myself of that fact before it actually feels real.

      Maybe the girl witnessed the fight but doesn’t know she’s a slayer. Maybe she’s freaked out. Or, maybe she’s a spy from my brother’s camp, because River still cares about me and wants to know I’m okay.

      A pang of homesickness nearly slices me in two.

      A zombie steps into my path and I twist to the side, nailing him in the eye with a dagger as I whiz past him. Only then do I realize I’ve moved out of the light. My heartbeat picks up speed. Am I headed into a trap?

      At my right a shadow shifts, and I stop, turn. A sharp sting explodes in my neck...my arm...my neck again. Definitely a trap!

      A wave of dizziness nearly topples me as I pull three darts out of my skin. Well, well. Two of my theories are now vapor in the wind. The girl doesn’t work for my brother and she knows she’s a slayer. For her weapon to affect me, she had to shoot it from the spirit realm, where I’m currently located. That’s not something civilians can do, even by accident.

      The only other option that makes any sense is...Anima.

      “Camilla!” Frosty’s voice echoes through the night, anger causing the “a” to vibrate.

      The dizziness fades, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I stuff the darts in my pocket.

      I step toward the girl, who hasn’t moved from the trees. She steps backward, into a higher beam of light, and I see that she’s pretty, with wide frightened eyes and skin covered in freckles; one moment she’s standing in place, frozen in terror, the next she’s running away.

      I kick into gear, prepared to follow her again—

      “Camilla!”

      But I can’t leave Frosty behind. I just can’t. Cursing, I backtrack. He’s my first priority, not the girl.

      Cole and Frosty are nose-to-nose, arguing.

      “—like I told you,” Cole is saying. “I had to make sure you’d heal from a zombie bite without the antidote. That was the only way.”

      “And I told you weeks ago I didn’t want the ‘save the bastards’ ability. Camilla!” he shouts a second later.

      I haven’t been spotted, I guess. “Guys,” I say. And...did Cole just admit he shared the ability by using dýnamis on Frosty?

      Neither boy faces me. They just keep staring daggers at the other, but at least some of the tension has drained from Frosty.

      Across the way, Ali is standing between Gavin and Jaclyn, pushing the two apart. “Enough!”

      “I would slap you,” Jaclyn growls at the smirking man-boy, “but it would be considered animal abuse.”

      “I’m sorry,” Gavin replies, “but I can’t hear you over the sound of your bitchiness.”

      “Children.” Ali slaps Gavin’s shoulder before waving a finger at Jaclyn. “This is no place to continue your weird seduction of each other.”

      “I’m not seducing. I’m punishing. She allowed too many zombies to bite her,” Gavin says. “I can still see the toxin under her skin.”

      Jaclyn throws her arms into the air, clearly exasperated. “Don’t fight them, you told me yesterday. Fight them, you told me today. Why don’t you make up your stupid mind?”

      “Guys!” I shout. “There’s a girl out there. She tried to sedate me.” I show them the darts. “We need to find her, like, now.” Before it’s too late. Hell, it’s probably too late already.

      A twig snaps behind me, and my first thought is that she’s come back to finish what she started. I spin, a short sword palmed and raised. Not a girl, but a zombie on his hands and knees. He’s closer than I would have guessed, as if he just rose from the grave at my feet. He looks to be my age, maybe younger, a boy who never really had a chance to live. I hesitate—the younger ones always trip me up—and that single second of inactivity allows him to yank my feet out from underneath me.

      I fall, landing with a thud, losing my breath. Having trained for this, I roll backward, into the light still shining from the car, and spring into a crouch while reaching out to swipe my sword across his neck.

      His head tilts to the side before flopping onto a fresh mound of dirt. Frosty arrives on the scene, his entire arm already engulfed in flames. I blink, and his face, neck and chest are consumed, too. I gape at him. I think he gapes at himself. It’s hard to see his expression underneath all that fire.

      “This is your fault,” he says as he turns to point an accusing finger at Cole, who spreads his arms, all I love you, so get used to it.

      Oh, to be loved that way.

      Frosty touches the zombie, just touches him—a brush of his fingertips against the creature’s head and body—and the pieces burst into black ash. The flames on Frosty’s arms die. He stares at the limbs as if