Darker Days

tried to make a reappearance, but once again, I swallowed it back and made my way to the edge.

When I got there, I planted both feet on the top step and heaved the zombie from the water. It complied with no resistance, righting itself once we were on solid ground.

So far, so good.

Grabbing my bag from the picnic table, I pulled out a small vial of quartz powder mixed with salt. Fairy Dust, Mom dubbed it. Some girls I knew never left the house without makeup essentials—the hottest shade of lip gloss and a killer waterproof mascara. Not me. I was all about the tools of my trade.

Popping the cap on the quartz, I sprinkled some of the Dust at the feet of the zombie, then pulled the small container of lighter fluid from my back pocket, spritzing the thing down. Still no complaints.

Everything was going fine until I flicked the flint on my lighter. The zombie, previously a lump of stinky silence, let out an otherworldly howl.

“Oh my God!” the woman screamed, jumping back. “What the hell was that?”

I flicked the lighter again and a small flame burst to life “It’s fine. Sometimes they make noise. They’re harmless, though. It’ll be over in a sec.”

With another scream and an angry chomping of teeth, the zombie picked that moment to make a liar out of me. Before I could move out of the way, it lurched forward and knocked me back. Everything blurred for a second. There was a strange, weightless feeling, and then I hit the water.

When I surfaced, the woman was screaming, hopping from foot to foot on a lawn chair near the edge of the pool.

Really? A chair? What did she think that was going to do?

“Calm down,” I called, dragging myself from the water. I grabbed a handful of my long, brown hair and wrung out the chlorine water. “You’ll only make it—”

The zombie let out another cry and lunged forward a few feet toward the woman’s chair. As if the screaming wasn’t enough, she’d started waving one of her pink, bedazzled flip flops at the thing. With a hair- curling screech, she hurled the flip flop at her dearly departed husband’s head. It missed its mark and beaned me instead. “Lady, you’ve gotta stop—”

The zombie roared, pivoted, and charged.

“Crap,” I spat, sidestepping the lumbering carcass. Zombies might be awkward looking, but holy crap could those bastards move. I took off across the lawn, waddling just a little, because running in wet jeans? Sucks. Running in wet jeans with an uber fast walking pile of rot on your ass? Sucks even more.

I rounded the corner of the pool, slipping on the slick surface of the wet deck. As soon as I righted myself, I doubled back and jumped just as the zombie’s arm crashed down where my leg had been. “What is your damage, Stinky!”

The thing skidded to a stop and turned for another go. I scanned the yard. The lighter was in the grass on the other side of the pool. No way was I getting to it in time. I was fast—but the zombie was faster—and since this one seemed intent on munching my limbs, I wasn’t taking the chance. Mom always said the stories about turning into a zombie when bitten were totally false—we’d never even heard of anyone being bitten—but I wasn’t about to be the first.

“Light the grill!” I screamed from across the yard. The woman hesitated for a moment before stepping down from the chair and hobbling toward the large poolside BBQ in no particular hurry. I guessed she could afford to take her time since her ass wasn’t on the menu. She fumbled with the grill controls for several seconds, squealing once and lifting her right hand to examine her fingernails before finally stepping away.

As soon as the flame flickered to life, I sprinted forward. The zombie chomped at the air behind me and even managed to get a few strands of hair.

I sucked in a deep breath and tore across the lawn. Heart thundering and legs pumping, I vaulted onto the table and over the grill. The zombie followed. Unfortunately, I’d overdone the jump. Sailing over the grill—that was my plan. Crashing through the wooden fence and hitting the ground hard enough to knock a few teeth loose—not so much.

“What was that thing?” the woman shrieked.

I climbed to my feet and limped to where she stood, fingers pinched across the bridge of her nose. The lighter fluid I’d doused it in had done the trick. When it tried to follow me, the flames did their job. The zombie lay twitching on the ground beside the grill. “Don’t ask because you really don’t want to know.”

I padded to the edge of the pool, retrieved my vial of quartz powder, and sprinkled it over the burning corpse. A tuft of blue smoke exploded and the zombie stopped moving. When I turned back to the woman, she was staring, face pale.

It wasn’t really possible to keep every civilian in the dark about the things that went bump and tumble in the night, but Mom insisted we try. She was convinced the world wasn’t ready for them—and honestly, I agreed.

She looked from me to the pool, then back again. “Do—do I need to have my pool drained?”

“Doubt it.” I wriggled into my sneakers and glanced back toward the fence, cringing.

Mom was going to rip me a new one. In the past month alone, I’d done at least three thousand in property damage. The month before, it was close to two. It wasn’t that I was careless, really. More like focused. If a piece of furniture or a stupid fence had to suffer so I could reel in the big bad, then so be it. A girl had to have priorities.

I snatched the check from the table and grabbed my phone and socks, along with my iPod. “Thanks and call again.”

“Wait! What about my fence?”

I looked from her to the fence, then down to the flip flop lying off to the side. Those damn rhinestones were probably diamonds. “Something tells me you can afford to have it fixed.”

Chapter Two

“So not your biggest fan at the moment,” I said, closing the office door behind me. The runoff from my jeans had soaked my sneakers pretty good. With each step, I gave a slight squishing noise accompanied by an annoying squeak against the old tile floor.

From across the room, Mom stared. “What happened to you?”

“It attacked me.” Tossing my bag on the couch, I sank into her chair and made sure to grind my butt into the cushion. Got it nice and wet. I was all about sharing the love—and right now, the love was soggy.

She laughed, waving a folder in my direction. “Surely you’re overreacting. It was one little zombie. They don’t attack people.”

“I’m serious, Ma. It tried to drown me. And the client assaulted me with ugly footwear. As far as punishments go, I’d say we’re probably square. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“You’re serious?” Amused expression now replaced by concern, she crossed the room and leaned over her desk to get a better look at me.

“As a coronary.” Once I was sure the chair had sponged up all it could, I stood and huffed past her. Pulling at my favorite T-shirt—the word Fate inside a blood red heart, is a four letter word on the back—I said, “Child welfare would not be happy to hear you tried to feed your only child to a walking corpse…”

“But why would it attack? Did you provoke it?” Folding her arms, she frowned. “Insult it, perhaps?”

I winked at her. “Provoke it? Sure. I went and wiggled my ass in front of it yelling lunch just to see what’d happen.” I’d called it Stinky, but that didn’t count as an insult. Something couldn’t be considered an insult if it was true, right?

Right eyebrow twitching, she fought against a smile. “But you’re okay, right? No bites, broken bones, head injuries, possessions…?”

I smiled and did a little twirl. “All in one piece and still me.”