Through the Zombie Glass

Chapter 19 Go to Sleep, My Darlings

Gavin stayed the night, as promised. But then, so did Cole.

Cole took the couch, and Gavin made a pallet on the floor. I tossed and turned, knowing they were both out there, so close. Gavin, perhaps watching over me; Cole, definitely watching over Gavin. Testosterone charged the air.

I couldn’t sneak out to meet Dr. Bendari—even though I’d promised I wouldn’t renege on him again. The boys would catch me. All I could do was lie in bed and think.

Was Gavin the spy?

Was Veronica, via someone else?

Were they working together?

I...didn’t think so. At least, when I really thought about it, I still believed in Gavin’s innocence.

Was I right about him? Could I trust myself with this, when I couldn’t trust myself with anything else?

You had better. You scolded Cole for not trusting you.

True.

Okay, so I’d take my own advice, no muss, no fuss. I would believe in Gavin.

That left Veronica. She had to be working with the spy. And, sure, there was a good chance my jealousy was coloring my perception of her. But what if it wasn’t?

How were we going to find out the truth? It was too late for me to try and be friends with her and learn more about her. That ship had sailed, and the storm had already beaten us down, left us adrift. I wouldn’t be able to fake a change of heart. No matter what I did, she would never believe me.

Cole would have to feel her out—or up. Would he decide to continue his romance with her? Maybe. Just how far would he allow himself to go with her? Exactly what would he have to do to soften her enough to catch her in the act?

A few kisses? A few caresses?

Sex?

I had no right to feel hurt by the thought of Veronica and him getting together again. No matter the reason. I had no right to be upset. And we desperately needed answers. But...

Like every time before, I was hurt. I was upset.

I forced myself to think about something else. Something less painful. Like Z.A. I snorted. In what world was the creature trying to take over my body a safer topic?

Simple. Mine.

Did she have any weaknesses?

I couldn’t think of one.

By the time the sun rose, my nerves were frayed. I lumbered out of bed, showered and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that read Always Be Yourself Unless You Can Be a Kat Then Always Be a Kat. A housewarming gift from, surprise, surprise, Kat.

In the living room, I discovered the blankets Gavin and Cole had used were folded, and the couch cushions were pushed back into place. Both boys were gone, and neither had left a note.

Had Cole rushed off to see Veronica?

Biting the inside of my cheek, I stomped into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Nana said, having just finished off an egg sandwich.

“Morning.”

“I hope you’re hungry. Cole did all of this, and he made you a plate before he left.” Nana slid a massive pile of scrambled eggs, bacon and biscuits in my direction. “He told me to tell you to eat every crumb or else. Oh, and he also left you a note.”

She handed me a folded piece of paper.

Don’t give up on me the way I gave up on you. Please. Somehow I’ll find a way to make it up to you.

X Cole

Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

Did I want him to say what I thought he was saying?

I would have asked him, but he never made it to school. Where was he? What was he doing?

As the day eked by, I thought about calling him, then decided against it. Thought about texting him, then decided against it. I was a mess of uncertainty by the time Kat dropped me off at home.

Nana was gone. I changed into my work clothes and stuffed a few necessities into a backpack. My favorite weapons, a change of clothes, my cell and a little of the money I’d saved. I liked to stay prepared. I donned my coat, hat and gloves and left the house.

The air was bitterly cold, misting in front of my face as I breathed. Frost covered the grass, making me slip a few times. I set off down the street, walking fast. When I cleared the neighborhood, I came to a busy intersection. I passed the light and the convenience store and began to shiver. And yet the exposed skin on my face burned as if I’d crawled inside an oven. I frowned.

Sensitivity to the sun was a zombie trait.

Tires squealed. I palmed a dagger as I searched for the reason. An unfamiliar sedan with dark-tinted windows parked at the curb.

A door in back opened. “Get in,” Dr. Bendari commanded.

I stepped toward him, froze. If I did this, I would be late for work, maybe even miss my shift entirely. And if I missed my shift without calling in—would he let me call in or threaten to bail if I tried?—I could lose the job. But could I really pass up this opportunity?

Anticipation, nervousness and dread filled me all at once, propelling me the rest of the way. I jumped into the car, keeping the blade hidden but at the ready. Dr. Bendari moved to the side, giving me space. Even before I’d shut the door, the vehicle was speeding away.

Warm air blew from the vents, enveloping me as I buckled my seat belt.

Dr. Bendari studied me. “Face-to-face at last, Miss Bell.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come out last night.”

“You had guests. I know.” He looked to the driver. “Alert me if there’s even a hint of a tail.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver said.

“How did you know?” I demanded. “How do you always know?”

“I told you,” Dr. Bendari said, reaching for something on the floorboard. “My source.”

“I’m loaded with weapons,” I rushed out, waving the dagger. “Sudden movements aren’t an option for you. If you try anything...”

Dr. Bendari straightened without grabbing anything and, looking at me as if I were a wounded animal, gently said, “You need me too much to dispose of me, Miss Bell.”

“Yeah? And why is that?”

“I told you. I have the answers you seek.”

“If that’s so, why would you want to help me? Who are you? What’s your purpose? Your endgame? Why the veil of secrecy? Who do you work for? Do you have someone spying on my friends? Who is your source, dang it? I want to know!”

He rubbed his temples as if trying to ward off an intense ache. “Are you always this inquisitive?”

“Always.”

“It’s quite off-putting.”

“Well, I’m quite desperate.”

He studied me, frowned with a hint of sadness. “I bet you are.” Sighing, he very slowly reached for...whatever it was. A pile of folders. He settled them in his lap. “I’m sure you will be less than thrilled to learn this, but I worked for Anima Industries for many years.”

Even though I’d suspected, I found my fingers tightening around the hilt of my weapon.

Keeping his eyes on the road, the driver extended an arm, a gun now in his hand, the barrel pointed at my face. “I gave you a chance to put that thing away. You didn’t. Now I’m telling you straight-up. If you make a move against my employer, little girl, I’ll end you.”

“Now, now,” Dr. Bendari chided. “Let’s calm down, everyone. I said I worked with Anima, Miss Bell. In case you missed it, that’s past tense. I have since left the company. My source is still working for them, however, and that’s where he gets his intel. Whatever I know, they know, too. They are, apparently, watching you closely.”

I relaxed, but only slightly, considering what I’d just learned. I set the dagger on my thigh.

The driver lowered his gun.

“I was growing increasingly upset with their...business practices, I guess you could say,” Dr. Bendari continued. “Lately, they’ve been using cancer patients as lab rats, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I left the company, but you see, no one with my security clearance leaves Anima alive.”

“You seem to be breathing just fine.”

“Yes, and I’ve had to take drastic measures to keep it that way.”

Fair enough. “Do you know Justin Silverstone?”

“I know of him. I also know he’s playing a very dangerous game, and I’m not sure whose side he’s on. He reports to Anima, but he also reports to Cole Holland. So he’s either betraying both parties or playing one, and it’s going to get him killed. It did his twin sister.”

“What?” Jaclyn was dead?

He flipped open one of the files. I looked at the page on top—and gagged. It was a photo of Jaclyn sprawled on a bed of grass, her body twisted at an odd angle and splattered with blood. There was a hole the size of a fist in her chest.

I’d never liked her, and she’d never liked me, but seeing her body like that... A well of sympathy bubbled up inside me. “There have been no reports of her body being found.”

“I wasn’t there. I don’t know what happened. But I discovered the pictures and can only suppose someone carted her away and destroyed her. If I know Anima—and I do—there will never be a report about her.”

Poor Jaclyn. Poor Justin. I had witnessed the deaths of my family, and it had been tragic and terrible, but at least I knew what had happened. “Does Justin have any idea?”

“I’m not sure. The powers that be could have shown him the photos and threatened him with the same fate, hoping to get him to do something they wanted. Or they could have shown him the photos and blamed your group, thinking he’d seek revenge. Or they could be pretending ignorance. They are very good at all three.”

I believed him. Justin could be the spy, out to avenge his sister and the part he thought Cole had played in her death.

“I see the wheels in your head spinning. However, my source is not getting his information from Justin’s reports. There is someone else spying on your group, Miss Bell, but I don’t know the male’s identity.”

Male, he’d said. Not a girl paying a boy.

Trusting myself, remember. It’s not Gavin. “What do you know about me?” I asked. “About my...condition. And how do you know? Or maybe a better question is, how does your source know?”

“At first, my source knew only that you had been bitten and begun to act strangely. I deduced the rest. Then you were seen producing a red fire rather than a white one.” His expression was sad as he flipped through another folder, showing me photo after photo of people trapped in cages. Human people, not zombies. Only the more photos he showed me, the more zombielike those people became. I was horrified.

“These people are nothing more than guinea pigs,” he said. “They were diagnosed with cancer, but without the medical insurance to pay for treatment. They were desperate enough to try anything. They’ve been experimented on—with my formula.” There at the end, shame dripped from his voice. “I first came to work for Anima with the hope of creating a medication to increase life expectancy. A fountain of youth, if you will. Then I learned I was supposed to do it through the zombies.”

“You can see them?”

He shook his head. “My staff and I weren’t able to see into that other realm like you slayers, and we can’t leave our bodies without help, so we can’t see or touch the creatures until they are ringed.”

Without help? What help? First, I concentrated on the most important thing he’d revealed. “Ringed?”

“Our version of your Blood Line.” He showed a picture of a large metal band. “It goes around their necks and sends out electrical pulses that make the creatures tangible, but the pulse does something to the zombies... Eventually works them into a frenzy, and that frenzy makes them stronger. I’ve had more coworkers have to be killed because they’d been bitten during a frenzy than for any other reason.”

“Are you planning to put me down?” I asked with a tremor.

“No. Of course not.” He frowned. “Tell me exactly what happened to you, Miss Bell.”

I was surprised he didn’t already know every stinking detail. “Justin was bitten by a zombie. He then bit me. We were both given the antidote. He recovered, but I got worse. And now I’m slowly turning into a zombie, which sucks more than you probably realize, because my spirit is toxic to zombies—and that means I’m toxic to myself.”

He sighed. “I knew you were becoming a zombie, but I hoped I was wrong.”

“How did you know?”

“I recognized the signs.”

“You also know I’m seeing things. Hearing whispers.”

“Yes. As the essence of the zombie takes over your body, you begin to see into both the spiritual and natural realm at the same time.”

“I could already see into both realms.”

“Not to this degree. One realm will always be more real than the other. Right now you’re in transition.”

I gulped. “Have you ever saved someone like me? Someone infected with the zombie toxin, after it’s too late to be cured by the antidote?”

He played with the wedding ring on his finger. Ignoring my question, he said, “I had no idea you were dealing with the other problem. The allergy. So, all right. Let’s break this down piece by piece.”

I took that as a no and swallowed my cry of distress.

“I have heard of a few other people having a spirit that is toxic to zombies.”

One of them was my great-great-great-grandfather, I would bet.

“Justin reacted as he did because he was bitten by zombies Anima had experimented on and released. Their toxin is stronger, works faster.”

“But Justin went back to normal and I didn’t.”

“Justin isn’t allergic to himself.” He lifted a small, dark case from the floor and popped open the lid, revealing stacks of prefilled, plastic syringes. “I created different types of the antidote for all the different reactions I had heard about.”

“How many different kinds are there?”

“Eight. I took the formulas with me when I left Anima, and I’ve made several batches of each. Let’s give you a dose of the antihistamine antidote now and see what happens.”

I should say no. I shouldn’t let a strange man inject me with a strange substance.

Common Sense Ali screamed it was foolish. And yet Survivalist Ali shouted it was currently my best chance of winning this.

“Okay,” I said and nodded.

He selected a vial from the case. I shrugged my coat off my shoulder and tugged my shirt collar out of the way. He pushed the needle into the upper part of my arm. There was a sting, and a cool river moved through the muscle and spread.

For the first time in weeks, the double heartbeat seemed to vanish. The pressure eased from my chest, and the darkness thinned from my mind.

A burst of relief had me grinning. Suck it, Common Sense!

I wasn’t out of the game. The new antidote bought me what I needed most. Time.

“I’ll send all I’ve got with you,” he said. “Whenever you start to feel zombielike urges, give yourself a dose. It’s not a cure, but it’s a start. You’ll also be safer to be around.”

“Thank you.”

He removed fifteen of the vials and handed them to me, and I stuffed them in my pack. “I’ll make more. But I should warn you... I’m sorry, Miss Bell, but there will come a point when your body will no longer respond to this antidote or any other. The more you use it, the faster you will develop an immunity to it.”

Yeah, I knew that. “I was told there actually is a cure, that the essence of the zombie is darkness, and that the light chases that darkness away.”

He frowned. “The light from a slayer’s hand?”

“Exactly.” I told him what I’d done, how my spirit had left my body, how I’d summoned the flames and touched my chest, but nothing had happened.

“I’m surprised you didn’t kill yourself.”

Dying is the only way to truly live.

Maybe that was the point. Maybe I needed to die.

Disappointment rose. Before, I might have been willing to risk death. Now I knew I wasn’t ready for the end.

“This will require further study and thought,” he said.

“Uh, sir. I hate to break up the party,” the driver interjected, “but we’ve got a tail.”

Dr. Bendari stiffened, looked back. “Can you lose it?”

“We’re on a deserted road. There’s nowhere—”

Crunch!

Metal slammed against metal. Our car swerved and then flipped. I screamed, mentally returning to the night my family died. Tires squealed as we hit the ground; metal crumpled as we flipped again, and glass shattered. I was jostled forward and back, forward and back, my brain banging against my skull.

Then everything stopped. Everything but me. Dizzy...

“Dr. Bendari.” We were hanging upside down. Blood was rushing to my head. “Are you okay?”

He moaned.

I struggled to unlatch my belt. The moment it was free, I dropped, hitting the roof of the car—now the floor—my backpack slapping me in the face. I grunted as a lance of pain tore through me. No time to check for injuries.

“Help,” he gurgled. His chest was covered in blood—blood dripping onto his face, filling his mouth. His shirt was ripped, and a jagged edge of his collarbone peeked past his skin.

Can’t panic. “I can’t release you. You’ll drop.” As wounded as he was, he might not survive the landing.

As I anchored my backpack in place, trying to decide what to do with the doctor, a pair of leather boots appeared. A shadow moved, and then a man was crouched in front of the shattered window. I was too disoriented to make out his features. “Help us,” I pleaded.

“Dr. Bendari,” he said, and a sense of self-preservation sent me scrambling as far from him as possible. “I was told to bring you back to Anima—unless you were sharing our secrets with the very people seeking to destroy us. Guess what you were doing?” He pointed a gun, fired a shot.

Pop.

Something warm and wet splattered over me, and Dr. Bendari went lax. His blood...everywhere, all around, all over me. I screamed, too shocked to react any other way.

The shooter grabbed the scattered files, then me, and dragged me out of the vehicle.