A Mad Zombie Party

Smart. I would have done the same.
“Two days ago, we made the announcement you would recover fully and Tiffany sedated the guards—Justin and Gavin—and snuck out. Apparently she’d hidden syringes full of different kinds of drugs all over the house. Anyway, the rest of us were too sick to stop her. In fact, she’s the only one in the house who didn’t get sick, which makes us suspect we didn’t have the flu, after all, that she drugged us.”
“She knew I could identify her as Cemetery Dart Girl. But why shoot me up with mutated zombie toxin in the first place?”
Ali sighs. “We don’t know. We can only guess. Revenge, maybe. She could have worked for Anima once, or known someone who did and lashed out at you to even the score.”
“Why try to kill me specifically, though? Why not go after the rest of you while she had the chance?”
“Believe me, I’ve asked myself those same questions.”
I get more comfortable against the pillows, though my stomach is still rumbling, and look myself over. I’m wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt and I’m braless. Under the covers, my legs are bare. I won’t ask who changed my clothes. And I seriously won’t ask who inserted the catheter and got an up-close-and-personal glimpse of my lady bits. Not to mention my scars.
“How did you recruit Tiffany?”
“We took River’s advice and trolled online message boards looking for people who claimed to see ghosts and monsters. There were more than we ever imagined, and once we had names, we were able to do background checks. We approached the ones we liked.”
I wait for more details.
Ali doesn’t disappoint. “Tiffany is seventeen and lives with her mom. Low income. Her dad took off a few years ago. She’s homeschooled and a straight D student. Antisocial most of her life, but never in trouble with the law.”
I want to hate her. But do I have the right? She tried to kill me, and I once tried to kill Ali.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “For what I did to you... I was wrong in every way.”
She studies my face and whispers, “I believe you, and I forgive you.”
That easily? I’m not used to such understanding, and it throws me.
“There’s something I have to tell you, Camilla.”
“Milla,” I counter. The day we met, she’d called me Milla, and I’d nearly snapped her head off. A nickname reserved solely for my friends, I’d said. I could so-o-oo kick my own ass.
She nods. “Milla. There’s something I have to tell you about the vision I had. I promised Kat I wouldn’t talk about it, and I never break my promises, but I shouldn’t keep quiet. Should I? Emma doesn’t think so. But good glory! This is tough. A rock and a very hard place.”
“Just say it,” I tell her. “It’ll be okay, whatever it is.”
She licks her lips. “I’ve only seen bits and pieces of this particular future. A woman aims a gun at Frosty, just like I told you. I don’t see her face, only her hand.”
“Kat already gave me those details.”
“Yes, but—”
A knock sounds at the door, and Frosty sticks his head in the room. “May I come in?”
My heart immediately speeds into a wild gallop. A fact the monitor attached to my chest embarrassingly proclaims. As my cheeks burn, I reach up to smooth my hair into place. When I realize I’m primping for him, I stop and frown.
“Do you have food?” I ask.
He gives me the barest glimpse of a smile before fully entering the room. “Some people would say I’m man-candy.”
My heartbeat increases. With a screech, I rip the electrodes off my chest. “Some people...or you?”
Ali pats my hand. “We’ll continue our conversation another time.” She stands a little too hastily, and she’s out the door before I can stop her, leaving me alone with the boy who saved me even though I ruined his life.
My crush.
I like him. The truth is suddenly undeniable. I like him like him. A lot. He’s pretty and he’s strong. He’s smart and he’s witty. He’s charming when he needs to be and violent when he has to be. He’s honorable, and when he loves, he loves with his entire heart.
To find the right person for you, you have to be the right person. I am not that person. Could I be any stupider? To him, I’ll never be anything more than Kat’s killer.
I study him. His dark blond hair is unkempt, a wild tangle around his unshaven face. Golden stubble dusts his jaw. His clothes are clean but wrinkled.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say and blush. Wow. Talk about lame.
“Me, too,” he replies, sitting in the chair Ali vacated. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” I nibble on my bottom lip. “Thank you for saving me.”
He shifts, clearly uncomfortable. “You were dumb, chasing after a stranger in a strange place on your own.”
O-kay. Not going to pull his punches. Got it. “There wasn’t time—”
“There’s always time. Safety first, everything else second. Your life is—” He stops.
Silence crackles. “Is...?” I prompt as my stomach twists nervously; I know the direction he’s headed, but some part of me hopes for something better.
“Needed,” he says, and I’m deflated.
He saved my life because I’m needed. Because I’m a means to an end.
As suspected. Nothing’s changed between us. Nothing ever will. Except...the way he’s looking at me right now, with relief and something else, something I can’t name. “Why are you here, Frosty?”
“To talk. So let’s talk.”
  
  
She looks good. Color has returned to her cheeks. The dynamis I fed her spirit every day before getting sick sustained her spirit, soul and body, thank God, keeping her from wasting away.
A white bandage stretches from one side of her throat to the other, a stark reminder of the open, gushing wound that would have killed anyone else. Had I found her a few seconds later, she would have died.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asks.
“Did I say talk? My bad. I meant threaten. If you ever again run off on your own, I’ll put you over my knee and spank the bad decisions right out of you.”
Her eyes narrow to tiny slits. “If you ever threaten me again, I’ll hollow out your liver and fill it with rocks.”
I smile. “Nice.” This is the most relaxed I’ve been all week. I haven’t been eating, haven’t been sleeping. I’ve just been worrying that the girl placed in my protection wasn’t going to live to see another sunrise. “But you know rushing off is a habit, and it needs to stop.”
She opens her mouth to reply, but I shake my head, adding, “Just zip it and enjoy your lollipop.” I pull the candy from my pocket. “Or maybe you’d rather watch me enjoy it?”
She licks her lips, the sight of her little pink tongue causing something to clench low in my gut. “Gimme.”
I’ve been carrying the stupid thing in my pocket for days, desperate to give it to her. As a kid, Cole had given me a piece of candy anytime I’d gotten hurt. Funny thing. I always felt better.
“You were a good patient, healing like you were told—” I toss her the treat “—and you deserve a reward.”
I just wish her inner wounds had healed. I ache for the little girl she was and now I understand the woman she’s become. A woman willing to do anything to protect her brother. As children, they’d had each other, no one else. Part of them still had to feel that way.
As her tongue flicks over the candy, her eyes close in surrender—and I discreetly adjust my pants.
“This has to be the best thing in the entire world,” she says.
“Did your mom ever give you a lollipop to make you feel better?”
“No. She didn’t do anything without my dad’s permission, and he considered candy a privilege we hadn’t earned.”
I’m suddenly thankful for what little time I had with my adoptive parents. I might have felt like the odd man out, but I always knew they loved me. They kissed and hugged me anytime I cried—not that I cried, because I was manly, even back then. They gave me a warm bed to sleep in, clean clothes to wear and always helped me with my homework. I had a safe place to go.