Girl Z: My Life As A Teenage Zombie (2 page)

I nearly ran her over when she came to a halt within a few feet of our visitor.

He stared, eyes like slits. He took another step.

As he drew near I noticed several horrid raw sores and the sickening, pasty gray tone of his skin. I grimaced, grabbed Carm's arm and backed up, stumbling over my feet, when he reached for me with a loud groan.

“No-no!” Carm screamed as his body crumpled and he fell into the grass in a heap. I tried to keep her from him, but she swore at me and pulled away before rushing to his side.

“No, leave me alone!” she yelled. “I have to help him.”

“Carm, no—don't. Don't touch him. He's sick.”

“No, I have to help him,” she cried. “I have to.”

All I could do was stare at her, and then at him. My cousin Spence had come home.

“Spence?” I gasped, unable to believe that this wreck of a man in front of me was Carm's brother.

His clothes, dirty and in shreds, hung from his arms and legs like rags. He was skin and bones, a shadow of his former robust self. Spence had always been a health nut. He used to eat weird organic stuff and lifted weights like it was his religion.

What in the world had happened to him?

“Hey, cuz? Maybe we shouldn't touch him. We don't know what he caught.”

She glared at me. “I know, but we can't leave him here. Maybe he got attacked by those things, the ones on TV. We have to help him.”

I sighed, knowing she was right. Still, I hesitated.

One word came to mind…horrible. If this was what happened when you came in contact with
them…
I shivered.

We couldn't let him lie there and attract attention. Not much choice. Besides, I loved Spence too much to leave him there.

Uneasy without really understanding why, I pulled off my long-sleeved shirt and stood there in my tank top, glad it didn't get as cool as the TV weather lady had predicted.

“Take off your shirt,” I told my cousin. “Wrap it around your hands. We'll drag him to the porch. Once he wakes up, we'll get him inside somehow. None of us should be out here.”

It wasn't easy. We stopped several times, rewrapped our hands, pulling and dragging his body across the grass and down the cement walk. Dead-weight; it was like moving a ton of potatoes. He never flinched or made a sound.

Finally, after several attempts to get him up the steps without smashing his head, we finished. Carm dropped his legs with a loud thump on the porch floor.

I put his arms down, huffing and puffing, trying to get my breath, and I was in pretty decent shape, or so I thought.

Carm wiped a hand across her forehead and took a breath. “Whew, that was hard. I'm going to get some water. Want some?”

“Yeah, I'm thirsty, too. I'll wait here in case he wakes up.”

Once Carm left, it gave me a chance to look at Spence. I mean
really
look at him.

The handsome Spence, the one I'd daydreamed about marrying one day (before I knew about first-cousins being unable to marry), was gone. In his place was an old man. He'd added at least a few dozen more years to his twenty.

It was a lot to take in.

I couldn't help it and stepped back, glad Carm wasn't around to see my reaction.

The longer my cousin took to get her water (
where'd she go, Lake Michigan?
), the more nervous I became, especially when Spence twisted around and gave a low moan.

His fingers twitched. He kicked out a foot and made a funny low growl.

Not good.

I slid back a few more inches to put some distance between us and wondered what was taking her so long. “Carm?”

Where was she?

My attempt to lean backward and peek through the doorway made me lose my balance and bang my arm on the doorframe. I staggered, ending up where I'd started. From the corner of my eye, I saw something move and jumped.

I turned and took a sharp intake of air. Spence and I gazed eye to eye.

He sat up, made another unintelligible growl, and grabbed for me. I screamed and yelled, but he stared straight ahead and right through me as if I wasn't there. My heart pounded so hard I swore my shirt fluttered. I panted, becoming more frantic, as he scratched and clawed at me.

“Spence, stop-stop!” I yelled. “Carm, help!” The minutes felt like hours. I didn't know how much longer I could keep him at bay when my cousin ran in and yelled.

“SPENCE, NO, STOP!”

Finally, he did. A second later, he peered at me and back at Carm like he didn't know either one of us.

To her credit, my cousin took his attitude in stride and tried to get her brother's attention. “Spence, it's me. It's Carm, your sister. Spence?”

She prodded him again, her eyes sad, her face a picture of misery. We both screamed as Spence suddenly groaned and mumbled what sounded like “sorry.” His eyes rolled back, he went limp and slumped to the ground like a deflated balloon.

“Quick, Carm, let's pull him inside before he comes to again.” I rewrapped my hands and grabbed his feet when Carm gasped.

“Bec, your arm! You're bleeding!”

I glanced at where she pointed, but Spence's moans drew my full attention. “Never mind, I banged my arm. Hurry, we have to move him inside before he wakes.”

Getting him past the doorway, and into the living room, took every ounce of my strength. My chest heaved; my breath came out in grunts as I fought to move him and keep myself on my feet.

The effort it took surprised me. That's what I got for sitting on my butt the last two weeks and not going swimming.

My cousin stared at me funny. “Bec, you okay?”

“Fine, I'm fine. Lock the door. Oh, wait, his backpack's on the porch. I'll get it.”

Once outside, I picked up the backpack and leaned against the doorway for a second, surprised at how everything spun around. I took another deep breath and waited for the dizziness to fade, then hoisted the pack over my shoulder and came in, locking the door.

The pack on the table, I sat down and tried not to let Carm see how tired I felt. I had to keep going; I couldn't let my cousin down by falling apart. I didn't understand my sudden weakness, though my arm throbbed. I chalked it up to stress and being clumsy.

I watched Carm slide the straps from the front buckles and open the pack. One by one, she pulled out an unusual assortment of bottles and jars. My curiosity, and uneasiness, grew with each label she read.

“M-whatever, something I can't pronounce, sounds like some stuff I had to take once.” She set the container down and opened a white jar.

A strong ammonia smell made my eyes tear.

Carm hurriedly closed the jar and took out the final two containers. “Unlabeled. There's nothing on these.”

“What're they for?”

“I'm not sure.” She dug around inside the pack some more. “Wait, there're some papers in here.”

The papers she unfolded contained a bunch of weird numbers and letters, scribbles, and medical symbols. The last page held two columns of names, one with a big red X on the top.

“Carm, what did Spence do at that job?” She shrugged. “I don't know, but my brother didn't always have the best judgment. He called my mom and told her something was wrong in the lab, something big. He was doing stuff he wasn't qualified for. Then he never called back.”

“We better call our moms, let them know Spence is here,” I said.

Carm punched in a text. “Not available.” She tried calling. “It's not ringing. You get anything?”

I did the same. “No, nothing. Their phones aren't working.” I tried to sound positive. “Give them time, they'll call.”

We ran to the other room when we heard her brother stir. We watched as he slowly pulled himself up, resting his back against the end table. His words came out in a stutter.

“
Goo-goot.
”

“Good, got?” I asked.

His head jerked slightly. “Meeeee.”

“Got you,” Carm deciphered. “Someone got you?”

A weak sigh came out. “
Mmm-aaaa,”
he muttered.

I moved closer to my cousin and whispered in her ear. “Carm, what'd he say? May? The month?”

She shook her head and bent closer to her brother, which made me nervous. His mouth kept moving, like he was trying to say something.

Carm studied him and then turned to me. “Not may, make, he said.” She listened again. “For—” She paused. “Get them.”

“Them?” I asked. “Them who?” Then it hit me.

I ran to the table, grabbed the papers, and waved them at her. “This must be it! Some kind of formula.”

Carm and I screamed when Spence emitted a low growl. His limbs started shaking like he was being electrocuted. He gurgled and choked. A minute later, a frothy, opaque white substance bubbled from his mouth and dribbled down his neck and shirt.

We watched in horror, unsure of what to do, though we somehow sensed Spence was beyond help.

One last gasp and his body fell over. He stared at us unseeing, eyes bulging.

Dead. I couldn't understand it. But how? Wiping my eyes on my sleeve, I wrapped my cousin in a hug before I voiced my next suggestion. “Carm, we have to move him. We can't leave him there.”

Carm took a quick peek at his body again, then glanced at me, more tears tracking down her face. “I know. I can't keep seeing him this way. I don't get it. Was he that sick?”

For once, I had no answers. And given all the weird stuff on the news and talk about zombies of all things, the next question hung unspoken in the air between us: if he contracted whatever those things out there had, would he stay dead?

Feeling like I wanted to jump out of my skin, I helped Carm spread a sheet on the floor, the floral print a weird contrast to his pallid skin. We pulled him on top of it, closed his eyes, and folded his arms. Carm gasped when the pieces of a clear capsule rolled from his hand.

“What's that?” I eyed the empty pill she held in her hand, the alarm bells dinging in the back of my head. “Carm?” The paleness of my cousin's face scared me.

“Now I get it. Bec, his arm, look at his arm.”

Her voice came out in a whisper. She clasped and unclasped her hands. The red gash glowed against his gray skin.

“I know what he did,” Carm whispered.

“That stuff in his bag. He wants us to make more, for them. He took it because…” I gulped. “Because he was changing.”

We put another sheet on top of the body and with a lot of grunts, huffing, puffing and effort, dragged it into the bedroom. The door shut, I stood there and stared, totally heartsick at the recent turn of events.

A creepy-crawly feeling enveloped me, but what Spence did reassured me that my biggest fears wouldn't happen—no doorknob rattling, no door squeaking, no turning to find a ghoulish version of him standing there.

Spence was dead. Truly dead.

After checking the rest of the window and door locks, I sat across from Carm at the kitchen table where she'd lined up all the jars and bottles.

I took one of those tall jar candles my aunt always used, this one decorated with our Lady of Guadalupe, and lit it, partly for Spence, partly to dispel the shadows since all the windows were covered.

Her face sad, Carm tapped her fingers on the table before she took her brother's list and set out several items: a couple small bowls, paper, spoons, a measuring cup, and some paper plates. She handed me the paper. “I'll mix, you read the ingredients.”

One spoon, white powder. Check.

One spoon, blue jar. Check.

I read off a few more lines and stopped. “Carm, should we do this? He didn't really explain what this stuff does. Maybe it isn't safe.”

She eyed the jars and shrugged. “I don't know, but Spence wanted us to make it. I don't think he'd tell us to do it if we'd get hurt.” She paused and sniffled. “I have to do it, for him.”

I wasn't convinced, but my cousin was better than me at the science stuff. She'd always talked about becoming a vet. Of course, Spence had been the same and we'd seen what happened to him.

Still, I had no choice but to trust her.

Carm measured, poured and mixed while I read off the ingredients. I fought to stay alert, but I felt kind of lightheaded. Then she added water and the stuff began to fizz like Pop Rocks candy. The smell—bad, something like rotten eggs—was getting to me, too, though Carm worked on and didn't show any reaction.

I coughed and gagged, not sure how much longer I could take it.

Window. I had to get some air.

Up and on my feet, I took a few unsteady steps, stumbling around like I'd been taking secret nips of my aunt's homemade raspberry Sangria.

The last thing I remember, before everything went black, was hearing my cousin scream and call my name.

I came to, not at home, not on the couch, but in a hospital bed, how I got here a mystery.

I tried to remember what had happened. Digging for the memory was like stringing a pearl necklace with gloves on.

Wait. The image became clearer. The porch. I'd bumped my arm. Okay, but that didn't explain the rest of me.

I gazed at my skin's unusual grayish tone and the strange blotches without comprehension.

A lizard. My skin made me think of a lizard. A hiccupping sound escaped me. Wow, I couldn't even cry right.

I glanced at my aunt and cousin standing in the doorway. Carm hopped from one foot to the other; my aunt nervously wrung her hands. My agitation surged inside like someone had turned on a furnace. The bright green LED numbers on the monitor went higher, causing the machine beside the bed to blip in protest.
Beep-Beep-Beep.

Finally the nurse, a short, stout lady (
I'm a little teapot,
I thought) in white pants topped by a pretty pink floral scrub shirt rushed in. She made my aunt seem much taller than her five-foot-six frame.