Girl Z: My Life As A Teenage Zombie (25 page)

Our conversation dwindled while he concentrated on the growing traffic. Mr. J. had been right. We wove in and out, trying to inch up when we could. Cars honked, a few drivers wrestled Zs in the middle of the road. Shots fired in the distance. Total chaos. Gabe finally swerved around a couple cars and headed down one of the side streets, which made a big difference.

We pulled into the parking lot across the street and made our way to the hospital entrance. Carm scrunched up her face at an older couple who glanced at me and began whispering, but for once, someone else's reactions didn't bother me. I was too nervous about us hopefully coming to the end of our search.

Several large orange hazard signs with police department emblems prominently plastered on the hospital walls told me things had changed a lot. I kept my face hidden and stood out of view behind Gabe while Carm went to the reception desk for directions.

We headed down the hall and were stopped at the double sliding doors by a security guard. Carm's nervous glance told me the same thing had crossed her mind—we were back in school.

The man gave each of us an ID card and pushed a button to open the doors, but I'd barely taken two steps when his meaty, rubber gloved hand closed over my arm. “You wait in there.” He directed me to a small waiting room on the right. My protests fell on deaf ears.

“I'll come tell you what's going on.” Carm squeezed my hand. “Don't worry.”

I must've looked as awful as I felt. To Gabe's credit, he took my other hand and stayed at my side. “I'll wait with you,” he said.

Carm and Jesse went through the doors and disappeared from view. A feeling of claustrophobia hit me when the guard motioned us into the small, drab-green waiting room and shut the door, which closed with a loud click.

I tried the handle and stared at Gabe. “We're locked in.”

He tried to calm me while I checked out the room. It didn't contain much except for a blaring TV, a pile of old magazines and three mysterious doors—also locked. Gabe watched the news, which sounded to me like a repeat of the same Z attacks, fights, and military scuffles we'd seen earlier. I turned away and paced, unable to sit still, my imagination on high-speed.

I never left the door and continued to stare out the window when a lone figure in a blue hospital gown slowly approached, her shoulder-length black hair covered with a blue paper cap, her face hidden behind a surgical mask. I ignored my first thought—
her hair is shorter and darker—
and banged on the glass, trying to get the guard's attention.

The door buzzed. Pushing it open, I rushed into
mi madre's
arms. Everything around me faded away. I luxuriated in the warmth of her embrace, the soft scent of her favorite Wind Song perfume, and the softness of her cheek against mine. I tried to hold back a sob and hugged her tighter. A minute later I pulled back and stared into her eyes, greenish-brown, instead of dark brown like they should be. I gasped and bit my lip. Disappointment poured in.

My mom and Carm's mother were the same height, build, and shared a lot of the same tastes, like the perfume. They looked a lot alike even with different hair lengths and eye color. But what was wrong with me? How could I mistake Carm's mom for mine?

Manuela pulled the mask down and held me tight as I hiccupped.

“What's wrong with my mom?” I asked, my fears growing. “What happened to her? Where is she? Is she okay?”

Manuela squeezed my hands tighter to reassure me. “Calm down, Becca, take it easy. She's fine, resting. She's getting her strength back. Nothing else,
no mas.
”

We both fell silent. I took a breath and met her gaze, almost afraid to say anything, but knowing I had to. “You know about Spence…”

She sighed and patted my hand. “Oh, honey,
sí
, I know, I know.” She paused and got her emotions under control before continuing. “I am trying to make sense of it. I had messaged him to meet us at the motel, but I never heard back. I am just glad you are okay. Imelda told me what happened.”

Not all of it
, I guessed. She couldn't know what Carm or I faced when Spence came to see us instead before he died. A good thing. She didn't need to know the worst of it, at least not right now, maybe not ever.

“We got sick, thought we ate something bad,” Manuela continued. “Then your mother fell ill again after we fought off a zombie that got into our room.”

She stopped at my gasp and patted my hand. “Don't worry, it didn't get us. It was only the flu.”

The door opened with a loud buzz. The guard, citing security measures, hustled Carm's mother back into the treatment area of the emergency room. I stood forlorn. But before the doors shut, I heard Manuela call my name.

“Mom-Mom!” I yelled and jumped up and down at sight of the gowned and masked woman seated in the wheelchair. She lifted her arm in a feeble wave before disappearing from view.

I needed to see her.

I had to know she was really okay.

I'd taken only one step to go find the doctor when everything went crazy. A group of Zs dressed, of all things, in surgical garb and doctor's whites, shuffled through another door.
Talk about bedside manner…

“Gabe,” I called, “behind you!”

I tried to get out of the way when three more security guards ran in and tried to corral the fake doctors. Two of the guards pushed one of the zombies through a door on the other side of the hall. Gabe and the third guard fought with another Z and finally shoved him through the other door, quarantining him in the waiting room we'd been in.

The frightening snarls and ugly roars rose in volume and made me cover my ears with both hands. Lucky for me, I turned in time to see another smaller Z lurch my way. The gruesome little man, his blood-rimmed mouth set in a permanent O, and who could've been fifteen or twenty, I couldn't tell, came at me in a faster-than-expected clip. I yelled again and reeled around, only to stumble when my right foot refused to budge.

My fingers grazed the doorframe. I leaned down to get my balance and spotted a long, thin silver tube sticking out from the wall—a doorstop—and lucky for me, someone had already pulled it loose. I yanked it out the rest of the way, and seeing the long screw on the end, swung it like a dagger as the Z attacked.

The screw raked its arm; the thing shrieked. I gagged and jumped back at the stream of dark blood, the smell vile and cloying that ran down his arm.

I grabbed a chair and pushed it in front of me, barely managing to get myself out of the thing's reach. The Z moved in with a growl. My world grew smaller.

“Gabe, help! Somebody help me!”

All I could see were the whites of the Zs eyes.

“GABE!”

His cry of, “hang on, Bec, hang on,” didn't help.

I was going to die. I mean, really die!

I shoved the chair, but the Z was much stronger. He clawed and bit at me, his teeth chomping like a rabid dog's. I did all I could to keep some distance between us, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could hang on.

We struggled, the action causing me to pant and breathe harder. For some reason, it became tougher and tougher for me to catch my breath. I felt my energy wearing down by the second.

At Gabe's yell I turned, then yelped when my head exploded in pain. “
Oww
, what—!”

My legs buckled.

I staggered and flung out my arms. The room spun around me. I fell forward, and then all went black.

Confused, I blinked, trying to see around me in the dim light. My throat felt dry, all I could do was mouth words and call out in a whisper.

How odd. Surprised, I took in the familiar items—my purple comforter, the colorful
Dia de los Muertos
scenes, the white bedroom furniture…

My room. I was back in my room?

A sound in the hall got my attention. “Mama? Is that you?”

Footsteps. Shuffling. The door creaked…

“Mom?”

I stared and began to scream as the thing that was once my mother crept through the open door. Her mouth gaped open revealing blackened, rotted teeth. She stared at me from one drooping eye, her once pretty face covered with gashes, her body riddled with sores. A fetid smell like a bad septic filled the room.

“No,” I murmured. “No.”

Cold, dead fingers wrapped around my arm. I struggled against her horrifying grasp and lashed out.

“NO!” I screamed and fought. “No, leave me alone—don't touch me! YOU AREN'T MY MOTHER!”

Frantic, I clawed at the side table, my fingers touching the cool plastic barrel. I grabbed the paintball gun, aimed, and stopped with my hand on the trigger when I heard my name.

“Becca—Bec!” My cousin yelled, “Bec, wake up!”

My eyes focused. Blue walls. A soothing landscape. Confused, I tried to make sense of the item in my hands, not the paintball gun, but a vase. I'd picked up a plastic vase.

The hospital. I was in a hospital room. Again.

Even the slightest movement made me squeeze my eyes shut and wince. It felt like a giant needle had been stuck in my head.

Carm adjusted the ice pack, while Gabe and Jesse helped raise me up so I could take a sip of water. With a grimace, I braced myself against the pillows. “What happened?”

“Bec, I wish I could've got to you sooner,” Gabe said, his voice sad. “That Z shoved you into the wall before I could reach you.”

It came back to me in a flash of images. “I know you tried, it's okay. I remember feeling weak, and then nothing…but the dream…it was so real.”

My next question didn't come easy. “Carm, your mom…?

“I'm fine,” a voice said from the doorway. Relief flooded in. I recognized Carm's mother, Manuela, this time without the blue gown and mask. “But where's—?”

“Wait,
uno momento
.” Manuela ducked out of sight. A minute later, she reappeared with a wheelchair. She pushed the chair closer until the gown-clad woman in the chair and I could reach each other.

To my relief, my mother looked as pretty as ever, no bad scars, no rotting skin, no dead limbs, and most important, no signs of rejection. Her warm hands caressed my face and never felt better.

My mood lighter, I gazed at her and at everyone who mattered to me most, but I knew my happiness was short-lived. “Mom, I-I'm sick.”

Okay, understatement.
I touched the bandage on my calf. “This sore on my leg, it's—”

“—Healing.” Gabe came closer to the bed, his grin ear to ear. “Good news, Bec. They did it. They have a whole new treatment program, a series of shots we can take. You already got the first one. We should both get better soon.”

Stunned, I brushed a hand against my hair, checking to make sure it covered the small bald spot I'd tried so hard to keep hidden. It felt smaller.
Was it possible?

I glanced at my leg, back at Gabe, and then at the faces of my friends and family. My hopes rose, still I dared not believe such a thing could really happen.

“Really?” I asked with a sob, the truth almost too much to take. “It's really true?”

He smiled and cradled my face with his hands. “Yes, it's true.”

Our yells and celebrating brought some of the staff members to the door, including someone I was surprised to see.

“Keep it down or I'll have to sedate you,” warned Nurse Teapot, who replaced her frown with a big smile. “They transferred me back here to St. Stephen's temporarily to help with recovering Z patients.”

What a party! Everyone was here. Well, almost everyone. I couldn't wait to get home and tell
Tia
about our adventures. The best part? I wanted to see her face when
mi madre
walked in and we told her about the new treatments.

The announcer on the TV broke in with the news that martial law had been lifted. Most of the roaming Zs had been controlled or eradicated. Guard members were rounding up random suspects, but citizens should still use caution.

We all quieted when a news clip came on showing government officials in white protective suits carrying out boxes of materials from labs in Kentucky and several other states. “The origin of the contamination is still unknown, but CDC officials will continue to conduct investigations and hope to have more answers in the coming weeks,” the announcer droned on.

That was good news. I knew finding a source could result in a preventative medicine so this never happened again. How amazing. Everything was better. My mouth watered thinking of the big plate of tamales I hoped I'd finally get to eat. I intended to make a
grande
pig out of myself.

To my surprise, I didn't have to wait long since me and my mom were both being released with orders to check into our local hospital back in Wisconsin tomorrow for our treatments. Both Gabe and I would get the series of shots we needed. Luckily, neither of our moms had been scratched, only exposed. My mom would get well and just be there with me.

The drive home felt short, maybe due to my sleeping most of the way like a baby with Gabe holding my hand and my head on my mom's shoulder. The car bumped into the driveway and woke me.

Urging everyone to hurry, I leaped from the car and hurried to the front door (as fast as my clumsy feet allowed), surprised to find it partially open. “
Tia,”
I called. “
Tia?
It's me. We're home!”

Silence. Not even a dog bark. I'd forgotten about the dog, but I guess he'd gone back to his own house. Good thing, too.

“Tia?”

Again, no answer. Maybe she'd gone out, or was she taking her afternoon siesta?

Everyone came in and stood there, waiting, their faces eager. I shrugged and was about to go upstairs when I heard steps. Good, she was here. My excitement grew as I stood by my mother's side. She squeezed my hand and waited for her sister to come downstairs.