Through the Zombie Glass - Showalter Gena - Страница 21

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“Good,” he said, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Sit down.”

I obeyed, saying, “There’s been an incident.”

“All right,” he acknowledged, folding his fingers together. “How bad is it? Does it need to be covered up?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just—”

“So there are no dead bodies?”

“No.”

“No zombies?”

“No. Just—”

“Then listen,” he said, once again cutting me off. “I’ve been told you’ve been cleaning up the house and only eating bagels and cream cheese. That isn’t acceptable, Miss Bell. I pay someone to take care of the house, and I have enough food for an army.”

“That’s wonderful, but I’m not going to take advantage of you. Now. We went to a strip mall today and—”

“Does your grandmother know what you’re doing? How you’re starving yourself?”

“I’m not starving myself,” I said. Then I told him what had gone down, described the SUV, the man who’d hoped to talk to me and what I’d done to his tire. The only detail I kept to myself was the business card currently burning a hole in pocket.

I’d grabbed it with every intention of handing it over to Mr. Ankh, but now, peering into his stern features, I just...couldn’t.

When you’re curious about your condition...

Did the man know what I didn’t? Did he know what was wrong with me?

How could he know?

And what would Mr. Ankh say if I told him about the smudges and the heartbeat and the hunger? How many tests would he want to run? Would he lock me away?

He popped his jaw. “That is Anima’s M.O. I’ll put a security detail on—”

“Oh, no,” I said, tugging at the sleeves of my shirt, making sure my bandages were covered. “No one’s following me around.” No telling what they’d see me do.

He frowned at me. “Privacy means nothing in the face of safety, Miss Bell. I’m sure your grandmother would agree with me.”

Low blow. One I ignored. “No guards,” I insisted. “Reeve might notice them and start asking more questions.”

He relented. As I’d known he would.

He really did love his daughter.

For the first time, I began to wonder about this man’s life...his past. “The woman you mentioned... The one who had the anxiety disorder... Was she Reeve’s mom?”

“Yes.” His tone was short, clipped, letting me know he’d said all he wanted to say on that subject.

We don’t always get what we want. “Did she know about the zombies? Is that why she was afraid?”

He hammered his elbows into the desk, rattling the entire piece. “Yes, Miss Bell. Yes. She knew about them, but she couldn’t see them, and so she began to imagine them around her every second of every day, and it was more than she could deal with. Finally she killed herself.”

How awful. Poor Mrs. Ankh, to feel death was the only way. Poor Mr. Ankh, left to pick up the pieces. Poor Reeve, a little girl drowning in sorrow and confusion. No wonder he insisted she be kept in the dark. He didn’t want the same fate to befall her. “I’m sorry.”

He waved my sympathy away. “The past is the past, Miss Bell.”

Such easy words to offer—but was he actually living them? “Just so you know, I saw a rabbit cloud in the sky. Zombies could be coming out tonight.”

He arched a brow, saying, “And you want in the rotation.”

I’d told myself I wasn’t ready to see Cole again. I’d even questioned my ability to fight. And still I found myself saying, “I do.” I couldn’t waste an opportunity to slay my enemy.

Mr. Ankh grilled me about my health. Was I feeling okay? Had I had any moments of weakness? Had I had another panic attack?

I answered the first two bluntly but sidestepped the last one. “Look, I was born to kill zombies. So, tonight, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Whether you’re on board or not. And yes, that’s a threat.”

He grinned at me, but it wasn’t a nice grin. “You can’t do anything if you’re unconscious.”

He would drug me? “Try,” was all I said.

He studied me for a long while before sighing, nodding stiffly. “Fine. You’re determined. I get it. And this time, I’ll let you have your way. You’ll have to hurry, though. The slayers are at Cole’s gym, and rotations are about to be decided for the week.”

Crap. My day with Nana would have to wait. “Slight problem,” I said. “I don’t have a license or a car.”

He released another sigh. “Be ready in five. My driver will be waiting out front.”

“Thanks, Mr. Ankh.” I stood and walked to the door.

“By the way, I wasn’t teasing about the cleaning and the food.”

“I didn’t think you were.” And he would learn I hadn’t been teasing, either. I paused and glanced back at him. “I admire the way you’re protecting Reeve, I do, but all our secrets are hurting her. She’s already suspicious, and those suspicions are making her unhappy. There’s got to be another way.”

“Miss Bell,” he said, slamming his pen on the desk.

I knew a very stern lecture was coming, so I hurried into the hall.

In my room, I changed into battle-ready clothing and gathered everything I’d need. More daggers, a syringe filled with the antidote, a pocketful of throwing stars and my phone.

I tucked the business card the man had given me in the bottom drawer of my desk and saw there was a note resting next to my computer.

I was going through the things that survived the fire, and I found my great-grandfather’s journal. I had given it to your mother years ago. A few of the pages are now singed, but that’s the only damage. I know it’s weird, but I thought you might like to have a family heirloom.

Love, Nana

The journal!

I’d thought it had come from my dad, that he’d given it to my mom. How had my great-great-great-grandfather known to write it? I mean, the ability to see the zombies was passed through genes just as easily as blue eyes, but my mother had never seen them. Neither had Nana.

What could this mean?

No time for puzzles. Right.

But this had to be the surprise Nana had mentioned. And what an amazing surprise it was.

I owed that woman a million hugs.

I didn’t mean to, but I glanced at the vanity mirror as I opened the door. A habit I’d developed after first meeting Cole. I’d always wanted to look my best for him. This time, my reflection caught me completely off guard.

Tick. The girl in the mirror—me!—had her hand lifted and pressed against the glass, as if reaching for me.

Tock. How could... How was... Impossible.

Tick. In a daze, I walked toward her—toward me.

Tock. She never moved. I mean, my reflection never moved.

Tick. I pressed a trembling hand against the coolness of the glass.

Tock. Her hand fell away.

A thousand different thoughts raced through my head.

I’d decided she was real rather than a figment. So...what was she? A part of me?

Another me?

The smudges under her eyes curved and seemed to drip onto her cheeks. A dying me?

Trembling, I swiped a tube of red lipstick from the bathroom and wrote over the glass. Who Are You?

I slammed the lipstick on the vanity surface and marched to the door. As I stepped into the hall, I glanced back. Breath caught in my throat. I read Your Doom.

Running back inside and smearing the words gave me no satisfaction, only increased my shock. Whatever she was, she didn’t like me.

Can’t worry about this right now.

I raced from the room, and this time, I didn’t look back. I wouldn’t think about anything I’d seen, about the change...the change... No! I wouldn’t allow another panic attack to swoop in and carry me away. Mr. Ankh would find out, and I would be banned from the meeting at Cole’s.

I checked the halls. Empty. Good. Reeve must be in her room, and I wasn’t sure where Nana had gone. Even the housekeeper was nowhere to be seen. As promised, the driver was waiting for me at the front door. I sailed past him without a word and buckled into the backseat of the dark sedan. I held my breath as he slid into the driver’s seat. He started the engine. Eased forward.

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