Gena Showalter: Through the Zombie Glass

Bull’s-eye.

On instinct, I turned, realized a pack of zombies had launched a sneak attack. I arched left, right, narrowly avoiding nails and teeth, my blade constantly swinging, slicing through rotting flesh. Cold black goo dripped down my hands.

I grinned. Some people got off on drugs. I got off on this.

Something solid pressed against my back, and I threw an elbow, raised the blade. As I sliced in a downward arc, Justin ducked, barely avoiding impact.

“Idiot,” I screamed. He knew better than to creep up on a slayer.

“Incoming.” He motioned to just over my shoulder.

I drank in the scene as quickly as possible and decided what to do. A zombie had used my distraction to his advantage, stealing in close and preparing to sink his teeth in my upper arm. I could dive away, but Justin’s nearness would put him in striking range. I could arch, but the creature’s momentum would draw him back with me. We’d fall. His weight would cage me. I’d be more of a target, and he could go for my neck.

I had to take the bite in my arm and pray Justin or Gavin injected me with antidote right away, so I could jump back into battle.

Gonna sting.

“No!” Justin reached out, flames springing from the pores in his hand, the light shining as brightly as the streetlamps. The zombie bit into that light, and both Justin and the creature dropped.

The zombie frantically patted at his mouth, his throat, his stomach, as if experiencing pain for the first time. But that wasn’t possible. Was it? Even still, he hadn’t been exposed to Justin’s fire long enough to die.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Justin had been exposed to enough toxin to die. A single drop was all it took. He writhed, the poison already pouring through him, a river, pulling him down, down, down, washing over him, drowning him.

I wanted to help him, meant to inject him, but there just wasn’t time or opportunity. All I could do was stand over him and fight, protecting him from further harm, reeling that the boy I knew as a traitor had taken a blow meant for me. Maybe I should have been nicer to him.

Zombies, zombies, zombies, everywhere I looked; so many grotesque bodies I lost count. They were like a swarm of flies, moaning instead of buzzing. I hobbled one, and two more replaced him—and then the one I’d hobbled rejoined the party.

My inhalations were too shallow, my exhalations too quick. I trembled, the blades seeming to gain ten pounds with every move I made. I’d been without physical activity for too long. This was too much, too soon. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take and still remain on my feet.

Can’t let Justin’s sacrifice be in vain.

Must avenge my family.

As I fought, I caught a glimpse of Gavin battling his own horde. He moved with the grace of a panther, his every action fluid, nothing without a purpose.

Should I call for help?

A clawed hand swiped at me. I barely managed to duck.

Teeth snapped at me. Hissing and snarls filled my ears. I swung, but an elbow jabbed into my middle, and I lost what little air I’d managed to take in. I doubled over. Fingers tangled in my hair, and hello, joyride to the ground.

“Gavin.”

“Ali!” he shouted.

I kicked out, but two of the creatures managed to grab my ankles. I lashed out with my fists, but two others managed to grab my wrists. I bucked, but couldn’t free myself.

Don’t panic. Panic would prevent me from acting rationally. I could get out of this. I just had to... What?

“Ali!” another voice shouted.

Cole! Cole was here!

Cole, the light of my life.

Light. Yes.

“Light up, dang it,” I commanded my hands. I could do this. I would do this. I believed. “Now!”

As Gavin ripped a zombie off me, flames at last burst from the ends of my fingertips.

The zombies still holding me instantly turned to ash.

“Help the kid,” Gavin commanded, returning to finish off his own horde.

I looked over my shoulder—saw the creatures eating at Justin. Horrified, I scrambled over and performed an inelegant dance of touch and destroy, freeing him from grasping hands and too-sharp teeth.

Back on my feet, my arms glowing brightly, I ripped through the remaining zombies, touching this one, touching that one, destroying all. When the last one exploded into tiny pieces of ash, my knees collapsed, and I fell. On impact, the flames vanished, and my skin returned to normal.

Victory.

Face splattered with black goo, Gavin closed the distance and grinned at me. “Now that’s the kind of ability I can encourage.”

Cole misted through the car beside me and stopped short. Fear radiated from him. Violet eyes I’d missed with every fiber of my being scanned me, searching for injury. “Were you bitten?”

“No, I’m good. But Justin isn’t.”

He frowned. “Justin?”

“He took a bite meant for me.” I crawled to Justin’s side and felt for a pulse. The beat thumped so swiftly I couldn’t keep count. “He needs the antidote.”

“I’ll give him mine,” Cole said, bending down as he withdrew a syringe from his back pocket.

“Justin,” I said, patting his cheek. “We’re here. We’ll take care of you.”

His eyelids split apart. Rivers of red ran through his irises. I gasped. Surely he wasn’t... Couldn’t... Not that quickly.

His head whipped toward me—and he sank his teeth into my wrist.

He quickly released me to curl into a ball and vomit, but the damage was done. I screamed. It was like electric paddles had been strapped to my chest, jump-starting a second heart, making it beat for the first time, but never in rhythm with the other one.

Suddenly there were two Alis, and both were in pain.

One hated it. One liked it.

That one was hungry. So hungry .

Cole loomed over me, his features tortured with concern. His mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear him. My attention caught on the pulse at the base of his neck. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Hypnotic.

Delicious.

Radiant light seeped through his pores. A light that didn’t hurt my gaze. A light that drew me, every part of me. I licked my lips. If I could just get past his skin, I could reach that light. I could touch it. Taste it.

Consume it.

Desperate, I grabbed him by the shoulders and tugged him down, baring my teeth. Just before I could bite into him, a fist slammed into my temple. From the corner of my eye, I saw Gavin, raising his arm to deliver another blow. Cole stopped him.

It was the last thing I saw before darkness swept over me.

I had spent the first sixteen years of my life under the watchful eye of a man who’d seen monsters no one else could see. I’d thought him insane, and part of me had resented him for the rules he’d enforced, the trouble he’d caused.

He’d built a house to protect us, a fortress of solitude, really, with iron behind the walls and bars over the windows. My sister and I had left our prison to attend school and church, and the occasional lunch date with our grandparents, but that was it. Every other second had been spent in confinement.

Now I knew more about the invisible world around me, more than Dad had ever known, and I knew the iron and the bars wouldn’t have kept the monsters at bay. Only Blood Lines could. I knew zombies were drawn to life—the very thing they’d lost. I knew they hungered for slayers first, and average Joes second. We were tastier dishes, I guess. I knew they found fear to be an aphrodisiac and fury to be a dessert.

Emotion added spice.

As miserable as I’d been back then, I missed the life I used to lead. I missed the hours I’d spent holding my sister while she drifted to sleep. I missed the hugs my mother had so freely given. Missed the smiles she and my dad used to share. The food she used to cook. The notes she used to leave under my pillow.