Alice in Zombieland

chewed.”

A spark of excitement zinged just under my skin. “Will I be able to produce that fire?” The thought of wielding such a potent weapon against the zombies…oh, yeah! Ali liked.

“With time you will. Now, I’ll give you one more question,” he said. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

Too late. But I thought for a moment, trying to pick from an endless pit of potentials. “Why don’t the zombies enter our homes? Why do they only come out once every two weeks or so? Or, as with tonight, every few days?”

“Someone needs lessons in math, too. That was three questions.”

I shrugged. “I like to round up.”

A laugh escaped him, far hardier than his chuckle, yet rough also, as if he hadn’t experienced this much amusement in a long time. “If you’ve still got a sense of humor I guess you’re better off than I thought.” This time he patted my knee in a sweet, brotherly gesture that kind of irritated me. “They don’t enter our homes because we create what’s called a Blood Line.”

“And that is?”

“When we pour a specific mix of chemicals around the foundation of a home, the zombies cannot get in, no matter what they try.”

Well, then. “I want—”

“The mixture has already been poured around your house.”

“When?” The zombies had stayed outside my grandparents’ house all summer, before I’d met Cole.

“Since the day I met you.”

See. The timing was off—and I wasn’t going to touch the realization that Cole had been looking out for me since day one. My dad had to have poured the mixture around my grandparents’ house during his high school days. But how had he known about it, whatever it was?

“What?” Cole asked.

“Nothing,” I replied, not yet ready to voice my thoughts.

He eyed me with suspicion, but let the subject drop. “All right then, back to your barrage of questions. I think I have only one left. The zombies come out so infrequently because they need to rest and rebuild their energy. Also, it takes them a while to digest what they ate.”

They digested goodness. What a lovely image.

“Now I have a question for you.” He waited until I nodded before he continued. “Do you want to fight them? You made it sound like you did, but I have to be sure.”

“Yes, I do.” Very much. The more I learned, the more sure I was.

“Good. I want to get you on rotation as soon as possible. On any given night, some of us are patrolling the city, just in case they emerge. Some of us are training. Some of us are relaxing. On the nights they emerge, we all fight.”

So organized. So precise. But I couldn’t see my grandparents going for that.

“The zombies are growing in number while we are dwindling, and we need all the help we can get.”

“You would trust me to help?” None of his friends had, and he’d avoided that question when they’d issued it.

“I’m willing to give you a chance.”

Another avoidance. Whatever. I wanted this; I’d take it. “I’ll find a way to make it work,” I vowed.

“If you have problems…”

He’d kick me out, whether he needed me or not. Well, time for a little reminder. “In our visions, we saw ourselves kissing each other, and now we have. We saw ourselves fighting zombies together, and now we have. That has to mean something.”

He severed contact and leaned as far away from me as he could get. “Are you saying we’ve had glimpses of the future? Even though what we saw wasn’t exactly what happened to us?”

Why the distance? “Why not? Stranger things have happened.”

Violet eyes piercing me to my soul (or spirit), he said, “I guess time will tell. Now, I think I’ve given you enough to think about. Why don’t you get some sleep and we’ll reconvene in the morning.”

* * *

Bad news: we weren’t able to reconvene in the morning because Cole had already taken off. No one would tell me why. Worse news: I got stuck with Frosty the Hater for my ride home and oh, baby, did he have a lot to gripe about.

The drive began in silence. I should have enjoyed that silence while I had the chance. Instead, I used the time to study the sky. I saw a long stretch of blue, a softly glowing sun, one cloud, shaped like a teapot, a second, shaped like a rocking chair, and a third, shaped like a—

No. No, no, no. Not now. Not today. Not with Cole’s best friend and Kat’s on-again, off-again boyfriend. But there was no denying the truth. A fat white rabbit peered down at me.

Logic told me to remain calm, but fear said Frosty was about to crash and die. “Drive slower!” I shrieked. Inside, I began to pray. Dear heavenly Father, I know I haven’t always lived the best life.

“Burst my eardrums why don’t you?” he grumbled.

And I’m real sorry about that, Lord, I really am. “I’m serious. Slow down or I’ll jump out. I swear I’ll jump out.” Save us today, and I’ll do better.

“Like I’d care.”

“Then I’ll talk nonstop until your ears try to detach just to escape the sound of my voice. And that’s totally possible. My ears have tried it.” I’ll be forever grateful, Lord. No one will ever be as grateful as me. Amen.

Frosty tossed me a scowl that perfectly fit his name, but he also decelerated. “There. Happy now?”

“Thank you,” I said, though I failed to relax. But what do you know? We reached my house a short while later. Alive. Thank You, Lord. Thank You, thank You.

Parked down the street from my grandparents’ house, Frosty faced me. “Cole says we can’t yell at you, so I want you to note the calmness of my voice.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I don’t kid.”

Words taken straight out of Cole’s mouth. And wow. I couldn’t believe Cole had gone to so much trouble for me. He’d skipped out on me without a word, probably to avoid answering any more questions; like he really cared what happened to me. But I had to admit I was curious what he would do if his friends actually yelled at me…and awed that his friends were that deferential to him.

“So have you noted my tone or not?” Frosty insisted.

“Noted.”

Thus began the threats that if I told anyone about what had happened, even Kat, I’d be bloody toast. Yawn. I’d just survived a car ride after a rabbit-sighting. More than that, Frosty was human, not zombie, and hindered by Cole. No way he’d really follow through.

“You told me this stuff already, you know,” I pointed out.

“Then let me tell you again.” And he did. Three more times, his tone morphing from barely leashed fury to condescension.

When he finished that third round of threats, I said, “Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you, huh? One minute you were fine with me, but now you can’t stand me.”

He tangled a hand through his dark blond hair. “I don’t know what you did to him. I mean, you’re hot, yeah, and you seem nice enough, but he doesn’t normally defend the new kid. And those vision things between the two of you are weird. And I’m just gonna say it, I don’t trust you. I’ve learned my lesson about people like you.”

“By ‘people like me,’ you better mean wonderful and caring.”

Frosty sputtered for a response, before finally settling on “After everything I’ve thrown at you, that’s what you have to say?”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about the fact that he and Cole shared the same incredulous reaction when dealing