Through the Zombie Glass. Gena Showalter

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СКАЧАТЬ sky. Why?”

      “I had been watching the zombie nests, and none of them had stirred. The ones that attacked you came out of nowhere.”

      No, they’d had to come from somewhere. But where? And what did this mean...for the...future? Can’t concentrate. So tired.

      “I’m losing you,” she said with a chuckle. “Rest now.”

      I must have fallen asleep at long last; the next time I opened my eyes, she was gone.

      Thursday, Nana tried to talk to me about my sudden withdrawal. She was worried I was sick. I assured her I was the picture of health.

      Friday, Mackenzie and Trina insisted on driving me home from school, and I buckled in back of a beat-up Jeep. They knew my situation without being told.

      “I recognize the glaze in your eyes,” Mackenzie said, twisting in the passenger seat. For once, there was no heat in her tone. No condescension or anger on her face. “I know we’ve never liked each other, but I do mean it when I say I’m sorry for what you’re going through. And maybe I should have warned you. This is what he does. This is what he’s always done.”

      I peered out the window. The sun was bright today, making my eyes water. “What do you mean? What does he always do?”

      “He cuts and runs when things get serious, and I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it. He just looks for an excuse, and then boom, it’s over.”

      I remembered the panic I thought I’d seen in his eyes. I’d convinced myself I’d imagined each instance, but what if they had been the start of the demise of our relationship? Not the visions.

      “Yesterday I asked Veronica straight-up,” Trina said. “When he broke up with her, he told her he couldn’t do the long-distance thing anymore.”

      I wondered what he would say about me, when he finally started talking.

      “He’s a great guy,” Mackenzie said, “but he’s never been in a relationship for the long haul.”

      “I think his friendships are the same way. Don’t get me wrong, I know he loves us slayers.” Trina maneuvered the car onto Reeve’s street. “I’m never in doubt of that. But I’m always aware of the fact that he keeps me at a bit of an emotional distance. He does it with everyone but Frosty and Bronx—they’re like brothers with other mothers or something. Frankly, I was shocked he let you get as close as you did, as fast as you did.”

      I thought I understood. Cole had lost his mom to the zombies. He knew he would lose his dad the next time his dad was bitten, since the man had developed an immunity to the antidote. If he let someone else all the way in, like, say, a girlfriend, and then he lost her, too, he probably didn’t think he would survive.

      The fury returned—the roots had never withered. How dare he? How dare he lead me on, making me want more, when he’d never planned to see this thing through? And then to throw me away because of what might happen at some later date... Because of fear...

      “There’s the spirit we’re used to seeing,” Mackenzie said with a nod of approval.

      No, this was something else. Something sharper. But I didn’t correct her. “Has he ever gone back for seconds?”

      “Never. Not even when we get desperate and try to steal his attention by messing around with someone else,” she added bitterly.

      There was a story there, but I wouldn’t pry.

      “So...what excuse did he give you?” Mackenzie asked.

      “Have you heard about my vision with Gavin?”

      She nodded. “Gavin has been soliciting advice.”

      “That’s why.”

      Anger glazed her eyes. Anger on my behalf? “Someday some girl is going to come along, and he’s not going to be able to let her go. Maybe she’ll dump him, and he’ll learn what rejection feels like.”

      Maybe. But that would mean he loved her. My nails dug into my thigh.

      “I’m guessing your vision with Gavin is the reason Cole has stayed silent about the breakup,” Trina said. She parked in Reeve’s driveway. “He doesn’t want Gavin coming to you for information about your ability, something he would do if he knew you and Cole were over.”

      “Which isn’t like him,” Mackenzie said, a little confused now. A lot intrigued. “Cole doesn’t usually care what a girl does or who she does it with once he’s done with her.”

      Part of me wanted to thrill over this knowledge. Maybe he still cared about me. The other part of me scoffed. I wasn’t so pathetic...was I? “He and I are over, and that’s that. I’ll be fine,” I said tightly. “Thanks for the ride, girls. And the conversation. I appreciate it.”

      Mackenzie grabbed my hand to stop me before I could emerge. “We’re here if you need us.”

      * * *

      I had the dream again.

      My mother reached for me. Warmth spread through me.

      She shook me, shouting, “Alice. Wake up!”

      I didn’t. Not this time.

      The zombies came for her, dragged her off and threw her on the cold, hard ground next to my dad. Then they fell on her, disappearing inside her, eating her spirit right out of her body. At first, she screamed and fought. Then she quieted and writhed. Then she stilled. Black boils appeared all over her skin, the zombie toxin poisoning her from the inside out.

      I watched, helpless, sobbing.

      And when I woke up, my cheeks were actually wet.

      Had she died that way? Even the thought filled me with a terrible, dark rage. She had been such a gentle, loving woman. She’d never knowingly hurt anyone. For those creatures to torture her that way...

      Can’t deal with the past. I crawled out of bed and into the shower, not leaving until my fingers and toes were like prunes. I towel-dried, swiped a shaky hand across the steam-covered mirror. My gaze caught on my reflection, and I stumbled backward, shocked. I was... There was... Impossible.

      Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

      The sound whispered through my mind, keeping time to the beat of my new heart. I stepped as close to the mirror as I could get, until the round edge of the sink prevented me from going any farther. There were dark smudges under my eyes and around my lips, and a black dot the size of my thumb streaked over my heart. Though I scrubbed with all my strength, leaving welts and nearly peeling off my skin, the splotches remained.

      Could stress do this?

      Maybe. Probably.

      I turned away from the glass, and the sound of the tick-tocks died. My hands shook as I dressed in a T-shirt, jeans and butt-kicking boots and sheathed a dagger at each ankle.

      I picked up my cell and texted Kat.

      Me: How soon can U get here? СКАЧАТЬ