A Living Dead Love Story Series (80 page)

Meanwhile, she's being sly with her big eyes scanning the room every 0.00017 seconds. Every time I'm close to snagging a cell phone, Gingham calls me out. Or Val catches me outright.

The bell rings, and I look at the clock on the wall behind the silent teacher: 10:15. It must be third
period
. Chairs squeak, and the Normal children can't get out of class fast enough. Meanwhile, Dane and I stick close together, watching as Gingham wrenches Lucy out of her chair and Val follows closely.

“The hell?” I finally ask Dane in the halls, just out of earshot of a gaggle of Normals stringing by, eager to get clear of our motley crew.

“What else can we do?” he grunts, bumping into everybody he can, the world's worst pickpocket hunting for a cell phone, and still coming up empty-handed. “She's got Lucy, and every other kid in this school, on her own personal lunch menu.”

I groan and follow Val obediently.

Lucy looks over her shoulder at me, offering a weak smile.

I send one back, but I don't know how long I can keep faking that I've got this, that it's all under control. That I know what the hell I'm doing.

I just want to run away from all this, the Eliminator in my hand, slicing off Zerker heads all the way back to Stamp. I want to forget about Lucy and the kids at Seagull Shores and everyone I don't know and never will and just turn into a Wonder Woman head-blitzing zombie badass, but I can't. Every time Gingham yanks Lucy around, I know I can't.

And I hope Stamp understands that. If he can.

If he's still around to understand anything.

I keep my pen handy, just looking for a chance to strike. One jolt from that sucker, and she's out like a light and maybe, just maybe, I can get to Gingham before she bites Lucy or anyone else. But it's Val we're talking about here, and she's quick and slick. Every period, it seems, there are more of them around her.

It's not only Gingham anymore but a guy or two as well, a few random girls with yellow eyes and vacant expressions. Every class we walk into, more and more have turned. But it doesn't work like that. They take time to be functioning. To get dressed in maroon jackets and skinny little ties, crooked though they may be. You don't just bite someone in third period and by fifth they're solving quadratic equations. No, uh-uh.

“She's been at this for a while,” Dane whispers as we walk into Chorus, Lucy's next class. “She—” He stops in the doorway.

Val shoves him hard, but the teacher doesn't stop her. Doesn't even quake at the sudden burst of violence. Because the teacher's one of hers—one of
them
. Now I know why Dane never finished his sentence.

“Mr. Phillips?” Lucy asks, eyes wide.

Inside, a dozen kids, a quarter of them undead, sit quietly. The living ones are quivering; the undead ones are literally licking their chops.

“Screw this,” I shout, pulling Lucy out of the class.

She leaps along with a yip and emerges on the other side of the door. I turn and see Val's double-wide crazy eyes until the door shuts, obliterating that god-awful image of her stupid spiky hair I want to mow down with my own teeth.

Dane is right behind me but not following.

“Dane,” I shout, heading for the front office, as far away as I can go.

He nods, waving me ahead. “I'll be right there.”

I stumble backward. Lucy, at my side, keeps me steady as I watch Dane launch into Gingham, who stands just outside the closed Chorus room door. Even from two classrooms away, I can hear something crack.

Something big or at least pretty important-sounding.

W
here are we
going?” Lucy asks, out of breath.

I hear Dane's sloppy footsteps as he races to catch up.

“The office, teacher's lounge, whatever. Somewhere with a phone. Somewhere we can call 911!”

Lucy inches forward on her flesh-and-blood Normal legs. “But last night you said the cops wouldn't believe us.”

“They won't believe this,” I say, passing the board with all the Missing posters on it as Dane
finally
catches up. “But we'll call in a bomb threat or something. All we need are warm bodies.”

“And their guns,” Dane grunts, stumbling
beside
us.

He's not alone.

Val is at his back, some of her new Zerker buddies along for the ride. Minus Gingham, of course.

We stand just outside the office, never sure if she's going to bite Lucy or sic the Zerkers on us but ready for anything and nothing all at once.

Val's smile is infuriating. If I didn't think her Zerker goons would devour Lucy in the time it takes me to crack my knuckles, I'd love nothing more than to wipe that smile right off her face. Literally.

“Here. Let me help!” She cracks open a glass box on the wall next to her and slams down the fire alarm. Instantly, the commons fill with noise and, a few seconds later, bodies, not all of them living.

The office door swings open, and secretaries, principals, assistant principals, and counselors flee, trudging past us toward the front doors. Kids follow them: office aides, some alive, some not.

Those who are not stand in front of the office door, blocking it.

Val joins them, beaming that triumphant smile.

“What the . . .” Dane murmurs, watching them flood by, too many yellow eyes to count. He shakes his head. “Holy hell.”

“Here.” I haul him inside the teacher's lounge, figuring there's gotta be a phone or two in there.

Lucy is warm and breathing heavy between us, messenger bag clutched tight against her shoulder as if it's hiding some nuclear weapon or something.

I slam the door behind me, feeling Val or one of her Zerker pals clanging against it. “Dane, hurry! Find a phone. Call someone. Lucy, get over here!”

She comes to my aid, but I forget she's only human. And small and soft. The door bangs against our shoulder blades.

Finally, on the far wall, Dane finds a phone. A pay phone. “Are you kidding me?” he says. To the phone. He punches the wall next to it, still conversing with the immobile phone. “Unbelievable.”

“Well, hurry!”

“I don't have any change,” he says. To me, not to the phone this time.

I dig in my pocket, finding only the Eliminator on one side and Vera's pen on the other.

“Don't look at me,” Lucy grunts. “I didn't know they even had those things anymore!”

Dane twists and turns, eyes closed, groaning, like he can just create dimes and nickels out of sheer frustration.

“There. Dane, look! The vending machine.”

“What about it? Does it sell cell phones?”

The door is silent for a moment. Lucy and I look at each other, faces all,
Oh, snap, are six of them getting ready to sprint across the commons and knock it down at once?

I use the relative silence to shout at Dane. “It will have change inside, you stupid dork!”

He shakes his head and nods and walks to it, quickly grabbing the sides and shaking it.

This guy, honestly. Did he become a zombie
before
they invented vending machines?

“Dane. The coin box inside. Grab—”

Suddenly, there's a rumble. Violent and low. Not at the door but on the other side of the wall. No. Not on the other side.
In
the walls.

Dane fiddles with the vending machine, fingers trying to pry it open, unable to move its bulk.

Lucy clings to the door, as if that's any help.

I stand in the middle of the room, listening, feeling the pounding, and trying to find out where it's coming from—

Something cracks. There's a jumble of dust and plaster, and the vending machine slams into Dane, knocking him over and pinning his arm to the ground.

Val emerges, spiky hair filled with dust. She kicks through the last of the drywall like Kool-Aid Man. Then she kneels on the back of the vending machine, triumphant as flippin' always.

“What do we have here?” she asks, shaking her head.

I look at Dane. From about his shoulder down, his arm is covered by the vending machine.

She sees it, smiles, and rocks the massive metal box. It can't hurt, not really, but if his whole arm comes off, well, he won't be much of a Sentinel then.

“Stop, Val,” I shout. “Get off.”

Val snickers as I reach into my pocket. But it's hard because Lucy clings to my side like a second skin.

Suddenly the door she was supposed to be blocking swings open, and Gingham limps in. One arm at an odd angle, the maroon sleeve of her uniform jacket missing, she snatches Lucy, who screams.

Gingham, voice like sandpaper, laughs. “Scream all you want, brainiac. There's no one left to hear you!”

Dane grunts, trying to wriggle his arm out from under the massive vending machine, but Val rocks it again.

Lucy squeaks, biting off a scream, and Gingham stretches her arm behind her back.

“Stop, okay? Just stop,” I sputter.

Gingham smirks and squeezes just a little tighter.

Lucy manages a few words: “Stop. Helping. Me. It's. Not. Helping. Me!”

I turn, looking back and forth between Lucy and Dane.

“Drop it,” Val says, sliding off the vending machine but leaning on it so Dane can't ease out while she's not looking. Which seems impossible because it's like she's got eyes in the back and on both sides of her head.

“Drop what?” But even as I ask, I'm cringing, thinking maybe I whipped out Vera's pen. But when I look down, I see I'm holding the Eliminator, ice pick side out.

I don't even remember doing that.

Still, I want her to think it's all I've got, so I bring it closer to me protectively.

How did this go so wrong so fast? How did she get the drop on us so soundly? Again?

“Ah, ah, ah,” she teases, wagging a finger and rocking the vending machine.

Dane winces with each motion. A few more of those or one big jump, and he'll be able to count on only five fingers from now on.

I smirk, as if it's exactly what I wanted when I hear Lucy scream, “Maddy, look out!”

I half turn in time to see Gingham, with her one good arm, shove me to my knees, right at Val's feet.

I smile, using the graceless fall to tumble and toss the Eliminator halfway across the room.

Val rolls her eyes at this obvious display. “Gingham?”

The redhead dutifully limps toward it, slow as molasses, which works just fine for me.

In a headlock, Lucy grunts and slides along by her side.

We share a look, and in her eyes is utter fear. It makes me wonder how long she's been a Sleeper and what training she had for the job, if any.

Then again, look at me. All the Keeper training in the world couldn't stop Val from surprising me so thoroughly, even though we were pretty much expecting her this whole time.

“Let's go, Val. Come on,” Dane spits, grunting with his arm pinned. “Do what you're gonna do to us, and let the Normal go.”

Val gives me a can-you-believe-this-schmuck look.

On my knees, I look at her, hating that I look subservient but definitely wanting her to think I'm right where she wants me to be.

“Why would I want to hurt you two?” she purrs, stroking my cheek.

I pull away. “You know why,” I seethe. “We all know why.”

Gingham has retrieved the Eliminator, and Lucy's kneeling in front of her. Gingham turns the weapon over and over, calling out to Val, “Hey, look at this. I think I like it.”

Val smiles. “Good. It's yours.” She looks at me but talks to Gingham: “When it's time, I hope you'll figure out how to use it.”

The two cackle. Seriously. Like the witches they are.

I'm trying to ESP,
Don't worry; I'll take care of these two
, to Lucy, but Val grabs my ear.

“Pay attention to
me
, Maddy.”

I twist away, half expecting her to be holding my ear in her fingers. Fortunately, it's still attached to my head. For now.

“This was never about rekilling
you
two,” she says to me and Dane via me. “It was about making you suffer. And the best way to do that is to kill the ones you love.”

I smirk. “You had the chance to kill Dad when you broke out of Sentinel City. Why didn't you just do it then and be done with it?”

“My sentiments exactly!”

Ugh, she has this dramatic way about her I've forgotten I can't stand. I mean, as big of a part as Val has played in my afterlife, it's amazing how little face time we've had over the past year.

Her eyes get twice as crazy now. The veins stand out above her open collar, her black tie loosened and dangling. And with her spiky hair—
blech
—she's like the annoying schoolgirl from hell.

She's leaning there, Dane's arm pinned, waiting for me. For some kind of response.

“I . . . I don't know what that means.”

She frowns, disappointed that I ruined some big moment she's probably been planning for weeks. Months, even.

“I mean, Maddy, I didn't want to finish it right then. I wanted it to last and last and last. Killing your dad would have been too easy. I know that now. The people you spend the most time with, the ones you'll have around forever, are the undead. I see that now.”

She winds down her soliloquy and looks at me pointedly. “I went about it all wrong last time. This time I made sure you were all together: every undead person you cared about.” For emphasis, she taps a boot on Dane's trapped shoulder.

“Fine, great, you've made your point. So get it over with. Kill me now, and—”

Dane interrupts, outcroaking me, looking like he just lost a wrestling match with a vending machine. “Just kill
me
, Val. You know you want to. That's what this has all been about from the very beginning.”