A Mad Zombie Party

The cemetery. “Why? Hordes take weeks and months to form, and we left nothing of the last one. At least, I’m assuming you weren’t dumb enough to leave the parts behind.”

“I ashed them, but...there was something odd about these zombies. They were more rotted than usual for first-timers.”

“Here’s an idea. They weren’t first-timers.”

“But they rose from graves. Why would zombies return to their bodies, just to rise again?”

“How would I know? I’m not a zombie.” But fine, whatever. “We’ll go to Shady Elms.” I grab my keys and head to my truck.

The moon is full, the sky completely black. No clouds, no stars. Just a sense of gloom and doom.

Nothing new.

Wait. A rabbit cloud whisks overhead, and I stiffen. Rabbit clouds—Emma’s way of warning Ali. Zombies are stirring tonight.

Adrenaline jacks me up. “There will be a battle tonight.” All I have to do is find the nest.

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

Camilla jumps into the passenger seat rather than the back bed and casts me a mutinous glare, daring me to comment. I don’t. What good will it do?

We maintain terse silence the entire drive. I continually scan for any sign of zombies. Nothing...nothing...for a moment the scent of roses and pecans distracts me. A scent that clings to Camilla no matter where she is or what she’s doing.

When we reach the cemetery, I park between two towering oaks, surprised to find Cole’s Jeep there. Camilla and I exit, and I use my phone to shine light inside the vehicle. Cole, Ali and Gavin are sitting inside, as still as death, their spirits obviously elsewhere.

“Great,” Camilla says. “Now I have to fight the living and the undead.”

I know the words aren’t a threat, but I react as if they are. “Go after my friends, and I’ll end you.”

She sucks in a breath. “I’m not going to hurt them. I just—”

“Save it. Don’t want to hear it.” I stalk forward, listening for an indication a battle is waging. Searching...searching...

The sky is even more ominous out here, the sense of doom and gloom stronger.

A twig snaps about ten yards away. I palm two .44’s just as Bronx steps from behind a statue of an angel, .44’s of his own extended. The second our identities click, we lower our weapons.

“Frosty the Ice Man. You don’t call, you don’t write. You just show up to the battlefield unannounced.” His gaze flicks to Camilla and narrows. “At least you’ve spoken with Kat.”

He knows what’s going on? “What are you doing here?”

“Guarding the Jeep and the bodies inside it.” Bronx isn’t stupid. He knows I asked why he’s in the cemetery; he simply chose not to answer. “I’ll guard you and yours, if you want to join the others. But don’t be surprised if you have a few cuts and bruises when you return.”

He’s pissed at me. I get it. “If using me as a punching bag will untwist your panties, go for it.”

He flips me off, but he can’t hide the amused glitter in his eyes.

“Any zombies?” I ask.

“A few.”

I step out of my body as easily as breathing. As I wind through the cemetery, Camilla’s spirit catches up to me. We come across Cole first. He’s leaning against a gnarled tree, the limbs seeming to embrace him and push him away at the same time. His arms are folded over his chest.

“What the hell is going on out here?” I ask.

Just like Bronx, he flicks a glance in Camilla’s direction. I know he’s debating what to say in front of someone so untrustworthy.

Camilla notices, lifts her chin and squares her shoulders.

“We were on patrol and spread out all over the place,” Cole says. “Bronx found and cleansed three zombies, but more and more began to rise from the graves so he texted the rest of us and we rushed over.”

“You cleansed the rest.” Otherwise he wouldn’t be standing here. He’d be at Ali’s side. “So where are the other slayers?”

“Walking through the graveyard, watching for other zombies. Ali and I had a vision and we think at least a dozen more will rise tonight.”

“They shouldn’t. We obliterated a couple hordes just last night.”

“If we’re lucky,” Camilla says, “we’ll get to obliterate another one.” She withdraws two daggers from the zips in her pants. “Why don’t I start with the one sneaking up on Cole?”

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I reach the zombie, but he’s already writhing on the ground, restrained by an arrow in each hand. Realization dawns. Cole knew all along that the creature was rising, without ever turning around. He’d been stealthily aiming his bow as he spoke to us, and I’d had no idea. Ugh. These slayers are more dangerous than I ever realized.

I crouch beside the zombie and summon my fire.

“There’s no need for that,” Cole says.

I ignore him, pressing my hand against the creature’s sunken torso. A minute passes, my light working through the rot. Frosty stomps to the other side, bends down and punches his blazing fist straight into the chest cavity. Ash rains a few seconds later, the scent of death suddenly replaced by burning flesh.

I’m not sure which is worse.

“Thank you,” I say.

“You were taking too long,” he snaps.

No kind words for me, ever. Got it. “You should consider becoming a motivational speaker. In two seconds, you’ve inspired me to kill...everyone.”

“Funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

Cole steps between us and shoves us apart. “Enough.”

How did I not realize we’d gotten in each other’s face?

“Zombies can be saved,” Cole says. “This one didn’t have to die.”