Gena Showalter: Through the Zombie Glass

“How would you feel about learning to defend yourself against the you-knows?” I asked. My dad had trained me to fight them before I’d possessed the ability to see them, and that training had been invaluable when my circumstances changed. Maybe Kat would see the zombies one day. Maybe she wouldn’t. Either way, I could equip her to make smarter choices.

“I’d feel...great. I think.”

“That’s good enough for me. Cole has a gym, and it’s loaded with all the equipment we’ll need. I can show you how to shoot a gun and use a bow and arrow.”

She waved a hand through the air, probably trying for dismissive, but I saw the gleam of fear behind the action. “No need for that part of the training.”

“You’ve used both weapons before?”

“No, but the unaimed weapon never misses. I’d rather stick with that method.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Will Frosty be there?” She nibbled on her bottom lip as she waited for my answer.

“Maybe.”

I couldn’t tell whether that pleased her or upset her; the chewing never stopped. “Well, today’s, like, the biggest holiday of the year, so I’ll pencil you in for noon sharp tomorrow. Or maybe sometime next week would be best. Yes. Definitely next week.”

“Nope. You’ll pencil me in for now and tomorrow and next week. I’m not letting you put this off. We’re going to turn you into a rabid, frothing-at-the-mouth fighting machine. You’ll be so hard-core, you’ll be able to knock Frosty on his butt as easily as breathing.”

A scary kind of anticipation lit her features. “Okay, I’m in. But only because I know I’ll look good with biceps. True story.” She drained what remained of her coffee and slammed the mug onto the table. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

I left my grandmother a note, telling her not to expect me back until after lunch and that I loved her. I thought about texting Cole, but quickly discarded the idea. I’d surprise him.

“You want to drive?” Kat asked as I made a beeline for the passenger side of her Mustang. “You have a permit.”

Acid burned a path up my throat. “No thanks. You’re not old enough to be my escort or whatever.”

“But you need the practice.”

“Another day,” I hedged.

“That’s what I said about training, and you shot me down.”

“Do you want to reach the gym in fifteen minutes or fifteen hours?” I asked. If I had to pick between driving and bathing in manure, I’d pick the manure. Every time. “You know how slow I go.”

“True.” She settled behind the wheel.

“Did Frosty ever take you to Cole’s gym? Not the one in his garage, but the gym several miles from his house?” The seat belt rubbed against my wound, and I shifted uncomfortably.

“Nope. According to Frosty, the high and mighty workout station for stallions—his words, not mine—is off-limits to nonslayers.”

Not any longer. I gave her the address without a qualm. The boys had brought Kat into this treacherous world of secrets, and they could deal with the consequences.

As we soared down the highway, I checked the sky for the rabbit-shaped cloud Emma used to warn me about coming zombie attacks. Today, there wasn’t one, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Kat swerved to avoid hitting another car, and I yelped.

“Is my driving making you nervous?” she asked. “I mean, you’re supertense. Which is silly, considering the fact that I’ve only been in, like, three wrecks since you were confined to a bed, and, when you think about it, none of them were my fault. I mean, sure, I was in the wrong lane, texting, but the other drivers had plenty of time to move out of my way.”

How was she still alive? “Mad Dog, you are the best worst driver I know.”

She preened. “That might be the sweetest compliment anyone’s ever given me. Thank you.”

A car honked as she swerved across four lanes to exit the highway, and she seemed utterly oblivious. “So, you and Cole are at the stage where he’s comfortable enough to call your Nana, huh?”

“I know. It’s kind of weird, right, and...” Wait. I knew Cole. He’d always been a guy with a plan. A purpose. He never did anything without a rock-solid reason. But what reason could he possibly have had to—

The answer slammed into me, and I nearly liquefied in my seat. I’d lost my family, and this was my first Halloween without them. He was trying to reduce the number of memories I’d have to battle.

He didn’t know that I’d never before celebrated Halloween. My dad hadn’t allowed us to leave the house at night, so there had been no reason to buy a costume, and opening the door to strangers to pass out candy had been just as big a no-no.

“Yeah,” I said to Kat, wishing I could crawl into Cole’s arms and never leave. “We are.”

“You’re so lucky. My dad has never been a Frosty fan. I’m pretty sure he’s only ever threatened to castrate the boy.”

Had to be those serial-killer eyes. Sometimes, when Frosty looked at you, you just expected to die horribly. “Your dad still lets you guys date, though.”

“Yeah, and he always will. When I was first diagnosed with defunct kidneys, he promised to let me make my own decisions and live my life the way I wanted.”

Good man. “So, what have you decided to do tonight?”

“The same thing you are. And I didn’t mention it before now because I didn’t want you drowning in jealousy knowing I was out having the best time ever while you were still languishing in your sickbed.” She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles bleached of color. “I’m trying not to be nervous. I mean, I know all the slayers will be there, but the night will be filled with all kinds of creepers, so how will I know who’s dangerous and who’s not?”

“You aren’t able to see real zombies,” I reminded her.

“That doesn’t mean they aren’t there. First, I told Frosty no, but then he said, ‘Would I ever put you at risk, woman?’ And I said, ‘How would I know? You’ve been living a double life since we started dating.’ And he said, ‘You want me to apologize again, don’t you?’ And I said, ‘Every day for the rest of your life.’ He had the nerve to laugh as if I was joking.”

I smothered a laugh of my own. “So...what’s your costume?”

“A too-sexy-to-handle Little Red Riding Hood.”

“Let me guess. Frosty’s going as the Big Bad Wolf.”

“What else? I have a feeling he thinks it’ll be hilarious to snap his teeth at me and say, ‘I’m going to eat you up, my dear.’”

Picturing it, I shook my head. “You’re going to tell him to prove it. Aren’t you?”

“I like that you know me so well.”

She turned onto a winding gravel road nestled between rows of trees in the process of shedding their fall coats. When the trees finally gave way to fields of wheat, Cole’s “workout station for stallions” became visible—a big red barn that looked ready to topple over. Actually, the thing could withstand a military invasion.

“This place is in the middle of nowhere,” Kat remarked as she eased to a stop.

“For many reasons.” Slayers coming at all hours of the day and night. The sheer number of weapons kept here. The condition we sometimes left in.

There were more cars than usual in the driveway. I frowned as I stepped into the coolness of the day. Grunts, groans and even cheers seeped from the crack in the door. “Come on.” I quickened my pace.

I stopped just inside the entrance and could only gape. I’d assumed Cole, and maybe the überdedicated Frosty and Bronx would be the only guys willing to forgo a countrywide day off.

Kat bumped into me and froze. “Oh, spank me,” she whispered, her tone reverent.