Girl Z: My Life As A Teenage Zombie (22 page)

Yikes. If this wasn't good for nightmares, I didn't know what was.

I didn't have much time to think before the trio wriggled out of the pile and stumbled to their feet. They turned in my direction, faces frozen in hate, and hissed. I backed up as they advanced. Time to get serious. The pellets flew and hit each with a plop. They fell for a final time with a shudder and a shriek. I was getting too good at this.

The way open, Jesse revved the car and skid into a parking spot. He got out, clearly happy to be here, and gave Carm a hearty hug before greeting me. His brother, Gabe, flashed a dimpled grin at me and opened his arms. “Hey, babe, what, no welcome home kiss?”

I frowned and took a step back. Arrogant. I wasn't having any of it and waited for Carm to introduce us.

Carm's quick glance told me she knew I was getting annoyed. “Bec, you know Jesse, and this is his brother, Gabe. My cousin, Rebecca.”

Our little get-acquainted party would have to wait when another car turned into the drive, the horn blaring. Great.

I swore under my breath as Jimmy waved out the window, pulled the battered junk in, and parked. Thanks to Carm's earlier note passing, he'd followed our trail like a hungry wolf sniffing out Red in the forest. I sighed, unable to get mad at her again, though I wondered when he'd finally leave us alone.

He got out, grinned at me, and mumbled hello to Gabe while he waited for Zoey to join him. She made a big show of slinking next to Jimmy in a thigh-high leather skirt, fishnet tights, and low-slung halter top under a leather jacket which gave the guys plenty to think about. She ended by giving Gabe a sly, sidelong glance. Carm's eyebrows rose at the way I bristled.

“Hey, bro!” Jimmy greeted everyone and held out his hand for a high-five. “Bec didn't tell me who else was going to be here. Let's get the party started!”

I saw how Gabe and Jesse eyed Jimmy before they backed up. Mr. Jensen's yells stopped everyone cold. His eyes appraised the newcomers, a look of displeasure on his face as he introduced himself. His nose wrinkled, but he didn't say anything about the obvious. He did make it clear he'd tolerate no nonsense.

“This here ain't no hotel,” he lectured, his to work like the rest of 'em. No crazy partyin' or anything else. I don't want you all whoopin' it up all night. She can take the couch. You can use the sleeping bag and no monkey business. Take it or leave it.”

Jimmy knew well enough to behave himself and expressed his thanks. “Thank you, Mr. Jensen. That's fine. We'll be leaving—”

The rest of his comments went unfinished at Mr. J.'s command of “grab your guns!” Everyone scrambled. Gabe and Jesse each took a rifle and set up behind their SUV with a whoop. Jimmy and Goth Girl slid behind a couple barrels, the two of them laughing and flirting like it was a party.

The way Zoey hung on Jimmy made me want to retch. She seemed to know I was watching and jerked her chin at me before she made a show of trying to catch Gabe's attention even while she slithered all over Jimmy.

What a Z.

I couldn't resist flashing a triumphant smile when Gabe turned his back on her and winked at me instead.

Our little competition faded with the arrival of a large group of Zs who shuffled to the end of the drive. Some got stuck in one spot and waved at the puffs of smoke from the old guy's bonfires, while others thundered into the open with loud growls. I motioned Carm to get closer. We readied our guns and positioned ourselves behind a stack of crates Mr. J. had piled up.

“You okay?” I asked my cousin, noting the uneasiness on her face.

She tried to act brave and gave a sappy grin, making a show of holding her gun at the ready. (I wasn't fooled.) “I'll be fine,” she said. “Really. I'd hoped we were done for today.”

“Don't we wish,” I yelled.

The things surged forward. The air filled with screeches when someone hit one of the shuffling targets. Flesh split as the pellets from Carm's gun or mine found their mark. Carm grimaced, but to her credit, kept shooting. I wrinkled my nose, almost wishing my sense of smell would disappear again, at least while we were doing this.

On a whim, I grabbed the paintball gun and shot at a slower Z. To my surprise, the thing began to shriek and writhe after the ball hit. It fell a minute later, the chemical eating through its rotted skin, leaving a paint-ringed hole. Maybe the stuff still worked sometimes? Not enough, though. In horror, I watched the thing struggle to its knees. It flopped over after Gabe took a final shot and threw me a puzzled look.

An old lady Z in a ratty housecoat, the puffs of hair left on half of her head still sporting pink curlers, her mouth ringed with blood like she'd missed while applying her lipstick, limped toward us from the opposite direction.

She stumbled along, taking mincing steps in dirty pink slippers. A small plastic handbag dangled from a chain around her arm. I watched her progress, unable to shake the thought of somebody's grandma heading to a tea party before she went missing.

Carm's poke at my arm barely registered, my focus solely on Grandma Z shuffling along. “Bec? You good?” my cousin asked.

I shook my head, but didn't trust myself to answer. My eyes blurred and got a little moist. I'd never expected this sudden stab of emotion. Up until now the Zs hadn't bothered me, but this little old lady was different. She could've been anybody's charming little grandma who unfortunately had somehow become infected.

I couldn't do it. Not this time.

As if she sensed my hesitation, Grandma Z gave another little growl and reached for me with chubby hands, her fingers pocked with rot, bits of bone sticking out. I stared at her and screamed when Carm pushed me aside. “Bec, watch out!”

Carm pumped her gun, the paintballs hitting the senior Z full in the face. She made mewing sounds like a baby and grabbed at her dripping flesh.

It was too much for me. I averted my gaze. The sight of her agony and the reality of her body falling to pieces bothered me like it never had before.

My anger churning, I scrambled to my feet. With a scream, I sprayed the oncoming Zs with a stream of pellets, followed by the paintballs. The creatures shrieked and fell in a gory, disgusting mass of decay and despair.

“Hey, Bec, cool!” Jimmy called out. “Got any more of those around?”

I turned and met his gaze, my face set, eyes angry. Without thinking, I aimed the gun in his direction. A second later, another Z entered my line of vision. The shock on Jimmy's face jolted me out of my trance. I yelled and waved him aside at the same time. “Jimmy, move-MOVE! Look out!” Almost in slow motion I watched the thing fall down, a hole appearing in its forehead, as I pulled the trigger.

Time seemed to stand still in those precious few seconds he stood in the way. I finally let out a breath of relief as Goth Girl pushed him aside at the last minute.

Jimmy glared and sputtered in anger as he got up off the ground. “What the—? What were you trying to do, Bec, huh? What were you thinking?”

“Yeah, what were you trying to do?” Goth Girl screamed and swore at me. “What's wrong with you? You're so jealous, so now you try to kill us?”

Gabe jumped in and shielded me from Zoey's angry threats while I stood stunned, unable to move, unable to answer.

My mind tried to process what had happened, what I'd almost done. I was drained, unable to accept I'd almost killed a person who wasn't a full Z, but someone like me.

The battle wound down, with all the Zs truly dead and no new ones in sight. I remained almost catatonic, giving no response to Zoey's continued curses and threats.

Jimmy's rants didn't rouse me, either, as he stomped to the house and came back a few minutes later with his and Zoey's bags.

I stared at the back of Jimmy's car with sad eyes when he and Goth Girl took off although part of me wanted to dance a jig. Maybe I'd feel better when I got over this horrible feeling and tried to figure out how to cope with what I was turning into.

I was dangerous.

Maybe I needed to piss Carm off, get her good and mad so she'd stay away from me. The idea only escalated my feelings of worthlessness.

Our host's yells cut my brooding short. “Why are all you standin' around when there's work to be done? Never mind them. Glad to see 'em go. More trouble I don't need. You boys come 'n help me get these bodies in the fire before the other ones get here. I don't aim on havin' these things lying around here stinkin' all night.”

His yells and Carm's sharp poke in the ribs snapped me out of my stupor. “You sleepin?” he asked. “You two take their stuff upstairs. They can use the room next to mine.”

Before he went to work, Jesse handed us a few bags and said he'd get the bigger stuff, later if they needed it. Gabe threw a wink my way and flexed his muscles as he went to help. “You and me need to talk. I have something to tell you.”

I bet you do.

I shook my head, trying not to show too much interest, and picked up another bag. No reason to encourage him. I already knew it simply couldn't—wouldn't—work.

Still, Carm was right, he was really good-looking—which would make it much harder for me to keep ignoring him.

The bags inside and the bonfires smoking outside, the guys came in, everyone marching on Mr. Jensen's orders to the back room where they changed out of their smelly clothes and washed off the grime.

Mr. Jensen came back to the kitchen mumbling about his house turning into a hotel before he went to watch TV with a parting shot about some food in the fridge. “Thank God only half of you are eatin',” he griped, and grabbed a bag of potato chips on the way out.

After our laughter, the room quieted as we got acquainted, or in Carm's case, reacquainted. She soon was whispering with Jesse, leaving me to cope with Gabe.

He gave me a conspiratorial glance. “Want to hear one of my jokes?”

My disinterest didn't stop him.

“Okay, here's one for you—what do you call a girl on a date who doesn't want to eat?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

I shrugged.

“A zombie.” He laughed. “C'mon, don't tell me you don't think that's funny? Hey, I'm just trying to lighten things up. I've got plenty more, want to hear?”

“Cute, but I don't think being like this,” I pointed to myself, “is funny. Not at all.” He motioned at me and leaned in to whisper. His minty breath hit the side of my face. “It is what it is, you know? We have to make the best of it. I wouldn't worry about it, there's nothing that'll make you look bad. Nothin' at all.” He winked. “Hey, anything you need, I'll be glad to help. Any way I can.”

I got up and shoved in my chair. “Carm? I'll be in our room. We need more ammo stuff.”

From what I could see, Gabe was closer to “normal” than me. No weird gait, no straying eye, no dark spots and splotchy skin. His complexion had a nice even tone. Okay, he had a tint like a dusky tan with a little ash mixed in, but he pretty much resembled any other guy, well, before the virus anyway. Even better. Funny how most of the guys I'd seen at school hadn't fared well after being infected. On the surface, Gabe was one of the lucky ones, kind of, if you considered being part Z lucky.

Taking a quick peek in the mirror, I played with my Rapunzelish locks, which were still full, but I expected would need trimming soon if I kept losing hair strands like I had. The makeup evened out my skin tone and most of the time, like now at least, I didn't have to worry about my eyes.

Oh, who was I kidding? What in the world would he see in me, especially with my bad attitude these days? He'd be better off with some “normal” girl, someone unlike me.

Disgusted, I threw myself on the bed. I jumped when the sound of shotgun blasts and whoops from the guys down the hall drifted my way.

A minute later, my cousin came in and plopped herself on the bed next to me. “So, is this a private pity party or is anyone invited?”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the wall. “What do you have to feel bad about? It looks like you and Jesse are hitting it off.”

“
Hmm
, yeah, we're good, but what about Gabe? You know, he likes you.”

I squirmed a little and tried to change the subject. “He's okay. Carm, I can't deal with him right now. What'll happen when our moms get here?”

She sat up and stared at me. “What? We'll go home, that's what. Maybe the guys can stay at my house or yours for a while. Why, what's going on?”

I leaped to my feet and began to pace. What happened outside between me and Jimmy wasn't something I could share with Carm. Not yet, or at least not for a long time. Of course, this wasn't my only problem, far from it.

No way I wanted to worry my cousin, but I couldn't keep this to myself any longer. It was driving me crazy.

“Bec? C'mon tell me. What's wrong?”

Letting out a deep breath, I put my foot on the edge of the bed, pulled up my pants leg, and paused. I was just as nervous about unpeeling the square bandage again—afraid to see what had changed since I last took a peek—as I was about showing her. Carm gave me a silent okay to continue, her face much paler than a second ago.

My fingers trembling, I slowly pulled the edge of the bandage, my fears confirmed by the gasp my cousin made. I'd started with one of those small round bandages and moved up to a regular size. The pad on my leg now was at least an inch square—and the spot beneath it had already spread almost to the outer edges.

I stared at the raw pink sore, the edges kind of brown and wrinkly, the center an ugly, peeling mass, and glanced at Carm.

“Oh, Bec, is it…?”

She left the rest unsaid. No explanation necessary.

My only answer was a tepid “yeah” as I patted the bandage back in place and pulled down my pants leg. It's all I could say.