Wicked Hungry
Page 90
Huh?
“The secret weapon.”
Of course. Our secret weapons. I almost forgot. With my snout almost fully out, my hands sprouting claws, has my brain turned wolf, too? I’m still holding the flashlight with long, hairy fingers.
“On the count of three,” Jonathan says.
“Keep your eyes shut,” I growl. “You can smell them, anyway.”
They relax their grip as they realize I’ve come to my senses.
“One, two, three,” Jonathan says.
I bring the flashlight up like it’s a blade, flicking the switch as I move it through the suddenly brilliant air. It burns my eyes through my clenched lids.
If you think zombies can’t feel anything, you should hear how they scream.
My ears ring with their cries, the pain pounding through my skull, but they’re fleeing into the night. I want to howl up at the moon. I can feel its pull up above me. I bring my head up, but something grabs my arm. I snarl.
“Stanley?”
It’s Jonathan, next to me.
“What?” pen my eyes, slowly.
The street is deserted.
“What happened?” I ask.
Jonathan shakes his head. “Dude, they ran.”
Enrique is shaking his head. Then he catches sight of me. “What happened to you?”
I bring my claws up to my face, touch my snout and razor teeth. I breathe in deeply and my face recedes, my claws retract, turn back into nails. It’s not fun. It’s not easy. It’s not painless, but I need to stay human, if just for a little while.
“I...changed,” I say, finally. “Just a little.”
“We noticed,” Jonathan says.
“And Max?” I ask. “Where is he?”
They just look at me.
“They didn’t—”
Enrique shakes his head. “He got away. I can smell him. He’s far away from them. We can track him if you like.”
“If he smells the beast in me, he’ll just run, won’t he?” I ask, looking at them.
“I don’t know,” Jonathan says. “Is he afraid of you?”
I nod, sheepish. “I kind of wanted...” I’m too ashamed to finish my sentence.
“What, to bite him?” Enrique asks.
I nod. “But right now, when Zach had him, we locked eyes for a moment.”
“The enemy of your enemy is your friend, maybe?” Jonathan says.