Alice in Zombieland

some of my conversations with her, trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong with her.

Wren and Poppy’s desertion hadn’t fazed her. “Honestly? I expected it,” she’d said. “I’d just hoped they’d learned how horrible their lives are without me the first time around.”

She’d missed several more days of school, but when I asked her why, she’d said, “My mom thought it’d be cool to spend some time together,” and once again waved it off.

“Ali!”

The snap of Cole’s voice jerked me out of my head. Just in time to watch—unable to react—as he kicked out his leg, knocked my feet together, and sent me crashing to the floor.

You need to concentrate, his expression said. We weren’t supposed to talk while we were like this.

My bad, mine replied.

He didn’t help me stand. He never did. I lugged to my feet under my own steam.

Every second I spent in here was designed to make me stronger. And you know what? I liked him so much more for it. I needed to be stronger. The zombies—

“Ali.” Cole’s booted foot kicked out again, and I crashed a second time, ending up flat on my back, the air blasting out of my lungs. He spread his arms, and I knew he was projecting “What did I just tell you?” at me.

Sorry, I mouthed as I stood.

He crooked his finger at me, a silent, You come at me for a change.

I nodded to let him know I understood. Knowing how fast he was, I didn’t give myself a moment to ponder how best to attack him. I simply attacked. Even then, he had the upper hand. I punched, he blocked. I kicked, he sidestepped. The few times he caught my fist, he should have shoved me away, twisted my arm behind my back, something. But he didn’t. He just released me and let me come at him again.

That aggravated me. For the first time since we’d begun training together, he wasn’t doing me any good. He was babying me.

More punching, more blocking. More kicking, more sidestepping.

“Wow. Gently remove your tampon, Holland, and throw her around like a man,” Frosty called.

I cringed at his volume, but only a little. I was adjusting to the magnification of my senses, even the intensity of the smells.

Lucas and Collins—who left their bodies at home, rendering the arrest anklets they wore ineffective in spirit form, as suspected—flanked his sides and snickered.

Cole glared over at Frosty.

He should have known better. I had already drawn back my elbow, couldn’t stop and didn’t think to angle. So, I finally landed a punch. In the ring, his spirit stumbled.

Over on the gurney, where his body rested, his head wrenched to the side, and blood spurted from his nose.

Okay, I couldn’t help myself. I burst out laughing. I laughed so hard I nearly peed myself, bending over, holding my stomach. And it felt good. So wonderfully good. I don’t think I’d ever laughed like this.

Cole sailed across the room and slipped into his body. He sat up on the bed, blood still gushing from his nose, and grumbled, “It wasn’t that funny,” but I could hear the amusement in his tone.

I followed the same path, and at the first touch of my spirit to my body, I was one being, the air warm, the sounds and smells back to normal. “It was,” I said. “It so was.” My giggles erupted all over again. When I at last calmed down, I asked, “Is your nose broken?”

“Nope. It’d take a sledgehammer to do much damage to me, and I’m sorry, cupcake, but you aren’t a sledgehammer.” He shook the cartilage back and forth, then wiped away the blood with the back of his wrist.

“I’d love another chance to change your mind,” I said sweetly.

“Please. I’m not stupid. Enough hand-to-hand. My face might not survive. It’s time for swords. Let’s see if you’ve gotten any better.”

I went to the Wall of Weapons at the far end of the barn while Cole moved a dummy to the center of the ring. And no, I wasn’t talking about him or one of his friends (har har) but a life-size combat doll.

Most times I worked with one of the living instead of a dummy, but yesterday I’d almost hacked off Cruz’s head for real. And not because my skills were awesome, but because I’d tripped, and then tripped him. So, today we concentrated on the basics I’d already gone over a thousand times.

I selected one of the shorter swords, with a lighter handle.

“If you’d bench-press what I tell you to bench-press—” Trina strolled out of the bathroom, dressed in her customary black tank and pants, a white towel draped around her neck “—you wouldn’t have to pick the wussy sword.”

Since that night in the forest, she had welcomed me to the group wholeheartedly. She would come up to me and chat about anything and everything when I was with Kat, something that drove Kat insane. To Kat’s credit, she’d never asked me to drop Trina. Although…could that be what was bothering her? That I hadn’t done so on my own?

Metal whistled through air as I waved my choice around with mock ferocity. “The wussy sword kills just as dead as the she-man sword.”

She ran a hand through her shorn hair and grinned. “Maybe. But you won’t look as cool doing that killing.”

“Back in the ring, Ali,” Cole called.

“Sir, yes, sir,” I said, causing several kids to laugh.

I assumed my position. Before I could take my first swing, I caught sight of Mackenzie exiting the bathroom. She was dressed in camo and armed for battle. Tonight she was on nest-hunting rotation. She nodded a stiff greeting in my direction—no hatred in her eyes.

Well, well. That was new.

“I talked to her,” Cole said, surprising me.

I know. I hit the dummy with more force than I’d intended. “So what’d you say to her this time?” The last two words had bite, I admit it.

“That whatever happens with you, nothing will ever again happen with her. I also reminded her of the fact that you saved her life.”

Whatever happens with you… The sword slipped from my hands the moment I hit the dummy, falling. I twisted, intending to face Cole, and I did, but I also scratched him on the neck as my arms flailed for balance.

“I’m so sorry!”

He wiped away a smear of blood. “Good, you should be. You can be a real pain in the…neck.”

“Hey!”

“What? I cleaned up my language.” He picked up the sword and moved behind me, properly refitting my hands on the hilt before slapping a dagger in my other hand. At first contact, a shiver slid down my spine.

“Trina carries an ax,” I said to cover my reaction. What had he meant by whatever happens with you? He was hot one minute, cold the next, and it was confusing. “Shouldn’t I learn to work with one of those?”

“Trina’s stronger than you are. She uses enough force to split bone, no matter her weapon.” Warm breath caressed my nape. “Right now, you’ll have better luck with a dagger.”

Goose bumps began to break out all over me. “If you say so.”

Motions slow and easy, Cole guided my dagger hand toward the dummy’s torso. “Zombies might not feel pain, but they feel force. Stab one here—” we sank the dagger in the side “—and the body will bow in that direction, leaving the other side wide-open.”

He guided my sword hand up and pretended to decapitate the dummy. This caused my arms to crisscross.

“As you know, in a real battle you often have zombies on your left and your right,” he continued. “Use your momentum to your advantage and spin.” He spun us both, uncrossed my arms in a graceful arc, stretching them wide, wider, until my body formed a cross.

Had zombies actually been rampaging toward us, I would have stabbed one and decapitated another. Just