A Mad Zombie Party

“No. I’ve told you the truth.”
“Are you worried about the company?”
“In a way. In the vision, Camilla saves you from a person, not a zombie. Why would a person unaffiliated with Anima attack you? They wouldn’t. You’re awesome.”
“I hate to be the one to shatter your illusions about me, but I’ll never be voted most likable. Lots of people unaffiliated with Anima would pay huge stacks of cash to hurt me. Plus, there could be a newly formed antislayer group. Or a previously unknown group. The government. Military. Or anyone, really.”
“Well, it’s still logical to consider the possibility that some part of Anima is still in business.”
Emma clears her throat. “You’re digressing, Kitty.”
Hearing such a little girl use such a big word—digressing—is weird.
Kat shoos her away. “Anyway. You’ll be voted whatever I want you to be voted. Nothing else. Meanwhile, wipe your face. You’re bloody, and it’s gross.”
Before, whenever she called me gross, I yanked her against me and planted kisses all over her face. She squealed and I laughed. Now...the urge just isn’t there. I think I’ve grown used to not touching her. Used to being kept at a distance and told I’m just a friend.
I love her, I’ll always love her, but the intensity to be with her is gone.
The knowledge rips through me. I’m moving on. Starting the next chapter of my life. A chapter I never expected to start, and it’s bittersweet.
“So...how are things with Camilla?” she asks, her tone light. Too light.
“She’s not as bad as I thought.” I won’t mention the moments of attraction and jealousy. No good can come of it.
“Well, she’s sucking at her job right now.” Kat scans the room. “Where is she?”
Good question. At least half an hour has passed since she took off with Justin. I should probably go check on her.
When River opens the door that separates this room from the one holding Camilla and Justin, cheers ring out. Ali and Cole share a confused look before following River inside. I take a step forward to do the same, only to stop.
“Go.” Kat waves me away. “I’m due back at court.”
I don’t say I love you. I just nod, and she’s gone, that sense of bittersweetness only growing.
I barely make it through the door, which locks automatically behind me. Mental note: learn the codes.
Kids I know and kids I’ve never met surround a ring just like the one River and I used. As the cheers intensify, I scan the heads for familiar platinum and come up empty. Damn it, where is she?
“Kill her!” someone yells. “Make it hurt!”
Bets are flying. Five on Love...ten on Love. Five on Camilla.
What the hell?
I push my way through the crowd and curse. She’s in the ring with Love, the two punching and kicking each other, and there’s nothing catlike about it. There’s no scratching, no hair pulling. Just sheer aggression. A battle for domination.
Both are bruised and bloody, but still steady on their feet, still throwing punches, ducking, throwing more punches. The problem is they aren’t just fighting physically. After Camilla nails Love in the jaw, she pushes her spirit out of her body and punches through Love’s jaw, hitting the girl’s spirit. Love recovers fast and pushes out her own spirit to block Camilla’s next blow. But Camilla is already back inside her body, throwing another punch.
I’m impressed. And maybe I’m a little proud—something I don’t like. Love is my friend. Her defeat should not give me a thrill. “Twenty on Love,” I call.
Camilla must hear my voice over all the others, because she stiffens and hesitates to make her next blow, allowing Love to land a double jab to her side. As Camilla gasps for breath she no longer has, I tighten my hands on the ring, fighting the urge to jump inside...and help her.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
Gavin comes up beside me and grins a toothy grin. “Sweet, huh? I sent the recruits away, but they heard the commotion and begged for the opportunity to watch.”
“You’re an ass,” I growl.
“That’s not exactly an insult. A great ass is something everyone wants.”
An alarm suddenly rings out, assaulting my ears. I cringe, everyone around me going still and quiet as they look around. The recruits begin to panic, spinning in circles. Trying to decide where to run?
“I’m going after Nana and your dad,” Ali shouts to Cole.
He nods, knowing what I know. Someone tried to open a door they shouldn’t. Everyone we trust already has access.
He throws orders at the others. I can’t make out every word, but I get the gist. He wants some of us to escort the recruits to a safe room and the rest of us to search the house for an intruder.
Gavin and Jaclyn start gathering the recruits, pushing them underneath the ring, where there is, apparently, a trapdoor leading to a secret room in the basement.
My first thought is: get to Camilla. But as I step into the ring, I realize she’s no longer there. Scanning the room, I see her race through the open door in back. To search for the intruder?
I take off after her, growing madder by the second. Waiting for backup can mean the difference between life and death.
I lift a revolver from a table of weapons and burst into—a hallway. The lights are out, the windows covered. Darkness greets me, but I never slow my step.
“Camilla,” I shout.
“Cemetery girl...stop her...”
I can barely make out the words.
“Camilla,” I shout again, increasing my speed. I pass through another door and grind to a stop. Damn it. I’m in a large ballroom that has eight other doors.
When I find her...
There’s going to be trouble.
  
  
The girl who darted me at the cemetery is also a recruit. AKA the girl who went to the bathroom.
When she returned to the gym, she hung back in the doorway. Just in case. Our gazes locked, and when I gasped, she knew I knew her identity. I would have recognized BG’s blue-black hair and freckled face anywhere.
That’s when she pulled the alarm.
I almost ran her to ground a few minutes ago, but Frosty’s first shout distracted me and she gave me the slip. And since she’s been living here as a recruit, she knows what I don’t—the layout of the house. Now all I can do is chase her shadow.
She makes it upstairs and hurries around a corner. Pursuing her, I end up in another hallway, this one a smorgasbord of doorways. Twelve in total, each one closed. My heart pounding as I stop, and my ears twitch as I listen.
“Camilla!” Frosty’s voice echoes in the distance.
He sounds worried, but I know better. He wants to ensure I’m not planting bombs or selling secrets. Still, part of me longs to call out, to let him know I’m okay. But I don’t. I don’t want BG to pinpoint my location, and I don’t know what BG will do now that she’s been found out. Attack? Even dogs fight back when they’re backed into a corner. I won’t put Frosty at risk. I won’t be the reason he’s hurt.
As I move forward slowly, I keep my gun raised and my finger on the trigger. Hinges whine when I open the first door. I don’t enter the room, just reach inside to flip on the light. An unfurnished bedroom, dust on the floor. No sign of footprints.
I continue onward, opening door after door, finding no sign of entry. Where the hell—?
A clatter of noise erupts at my left. I turn. A mistake. At my right, I catch a brief glimpse of a sweat-dampened face and dark hair—Bathroom Girl—before I feel a sharp sting in my neck. Suddenly I’m falling backward, falling down...landing with a hard thump and gasping for breath I can’t quite catch. Warm liquid spills over me, soaking my shirt.