Through the Zombie Glass (White Rabbit Chronicles 2) - Page 81

He’s too determined. You’re not going to talk any sense into him. Gotta work with what you’ve got. “You don’t need the girls for this. Let them go. They have nothing to do with our war.”

“Your concern is admirable, but we actually do need the girls. We want to keep you malleable, and they are our insurance card.”

I knew that wasn’t all Kat and Reeve were to him. They were witnesses.

I had to get them out of here.

“I’ll promise malleability if you let them go.”

“You’ll give it anyway. Now, are you light-headed?” he asked. “I’ve got a cookie with your name on it if so.”

I would have preferred evil straight-up, with no dash of kindness.

“Very well. We’ll move on. What comes next is going to be far more painful for you, and I’m sorry for that, but I need to know what your body can take...and what it can’t. Your strengths and your weaknesses, if you will. I also need to know what happens to the zombie toxin when your body is placed under tremendous stress.” He held up another syringe; this one had a thick green liquid swirling inside the tube.

My bonds stretched taut as I tried to scramble away. “What’s that?” I demanded, unable to mask my tremble.

“An isotope of adrenaline and other goodies meant to speed your body into a fight-or-flight response, to put you under that tremendous stress I mentioned. My hope is that you’ll recover swiftly, and the toxin won’t be able to overtake you and harm you.”

I had nowhere to go, no way to twist, as he jabbed the needle in my arm and injected me with fire. Molten lava spread through me, burning me up, melting all of my organs. Sweat suddenly poured from me. Maybe blood. I couldn’t tell—my vision hazed. Muscles I hadn’t known I possessed jerked painfully, and both of my hearts kicked into a dangerously swift rhythm. Boom, boom, boom, boom, no pausing, no slowing, just pound after pound against my ribs. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.

“Stop it,” I gasped out, my lungs squeezing tight. “Stop it right now.”

“Don’t worry. It won’t last long. Just a few minutes.” He smoothed a hand over my brow. “I’m not a terrible person, and I don’t like to see you worked up. But I’m also a determined person. I have to save my daughter, Miss Bell, and if that means destroying the world and everyone in it to do so, I will.”

“Criminal,” I managed. “Deserve...prison.”

“That’s the pain talking. I take no offense.” He stood and taped electrodes to my temples, neck, wrists, belly and ankles. “We’re going to keep track of what happens to your spirit, too.”

He grabbed another syringe of green liquid. Before I could protest, he’d injected me a second time. Another stream of lava blazed through me.

My back bowed of its own accord. This time, my heart thumped with so much force I expected to hear my ribs crack. I couldn’t stop my screams. They came, one after the other, scraping along my throat, until fists seemed to wrap around my neck and squeeze.

“Interesting,” Kelly said, pressing his fingers into my carotid. “Your body and spirit are weakening at a rapid rate, and yet there’s something inside you that’s strengthening.”

My eyesight blurred, but I think I saw Zombie Ali standing in the corner of the room, watching me.

“Why won’t you die?” she snapped.

Yes. She was here. Was she the thing that was strengthening?

One step, two, she approached me. Floated, really. Pale hair tangled around a face now completely smudged. She grinned, revealing teeth still stained with blood. “It’s just a matter of time now.”

I closed my eyes to block her image.

“There, there,” Kelly said. “That’s enough. We’ll take a break.”

I felt another sharp sting in my neck, though this one was accompanied by ice rather than fire. My heartbeat slowed, and I sagged into the chair, a wet, soggy mess.

“I must admit,” Kelly said, as he made a notation in a notebook, “I was hoping to see the red fire. I was told it hurt the slayers and the zombies, yet not you. And that makes me wonder...what did it do to you?”

Z.A. stood just behind him, and I was careful not to meet her gaze.

“What would you have done if you’d seen it, huh?” I panted. “I would have burned the chair and, fingers crossed, you.”

“There’s an extinguisher in the ceiling, directly above you.” He motioned to it with the tip of his pen. “With the press of a button, I would have you doused.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.” He tapped the pen against his chin. “I know. We’ll see if the red fire makes an appearance when I introduce more zombie toxin to your system.” He set the notebook aside and held up another syringe, this one filled with black goo.

What? “No!” I struggled against the leather straps. They tore into my wrists and ankles—held steady. Blood dripped onto the chair, the floor.

Z.A. clapped. “You’ll never be able to stop me now!”

“You’ll kill me,” I said, snubbing her, “and you won’t learn anything new. Won’t help your daughter.”

Kelly shook his head. “I’ve done this to others, Miss Bell. I know what I can give, and what I can’t, and still keep a person alive.”

He didn’t understand. The words rushed from me, desperate. “I’m different. Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”

“Calm down. This is an engineered version of the toxin, made not to infect you permanently but to burn through you in about half an hour. You won’t even need the antidote to improve.”

“No, you don’t understand. I—”

He stuck me with the needle.

Chapter 26

All the Monsters Want to Play

Many times, as a little girl, I’d looked at the home my father had built and considered it a prison. Only twice had I fought my forced incarceration, screaming and yelling at my parents about the unfairness of it all. Not just for me, but for Emma. She had no life, no friends.

And maybe that was why the two of us had been so close. We’d only ever had each other. We understood each other, because we’d been trapped in the same boat, in the middle of the same storm.

Then my dad had begun to train me in the art of self-defense, and I’d discovered I had a talent for it. It had given me something to do, something to think about, something to look forward to. But when it had come to the zombies, he hadn’t known many tricks.

Tags: Gena Showalter White Rabbit Chronicles Horror
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