“But—”
“Because you’re working with daggers,” he interjected, “you’ll have to get up close and personal to render one immobile. If you get close, and they open your wound, you’ll bleed and weaken, and they’ll tear you up the rest of the way.”
Okay, so, basically I was bait. “You shouldn’t have armed me if all you wanted me to do was watch.” The temptation to act would be too great.
“We have to be prepared for anything, always.”
I sighed. I might not like his logic, but I understood it.
“I hate that we’re throwing you straight into the fire like this, that you haven’t done any simulations or practice runs. You’re going to be surprised by how this goes down. But if the zombies are hunting you specifically, we need to know it beyond any doubt, and this is the fastest way.”
A howl ruptured the night, stealing my bravado. Not a wolf’s howl, but a man’s. Hunkering down at the base of my tree, Cole moved the swords in front of him. “We usually leave our bodies at one of our houses, so that they’re out of the way and no one out here can harm us while we’re unable to defend ourselves.” He withdrew the small crossbow from one ankle holster and a gun from the other. “That was impossible for Bronx and me, since we had to drive you here. We’re gonna leave ours right here, with you. Don’t worry if the zombies approach. Our bodies will be fine. You just watch for humans, and if you see any, you need to scare them away.”
I trembled as I said, “All right.”
“Did I tell you that the zombies don’t feel any pain?” he asked, still in teaching mode. “If you’re forced to fight, don’t try to hurt them. It won’t do you any good. They make noises when you strike them because they’re startled out of their rampage. Therefore, your only goal is to disable them.”
“Okay.” I’d already decided this was for better or worse. I wouldn’t change my mind.
Another howl. A scream. Grunts and groans. The sounds came from all around us. I wasn’t sure who was making them, the zombies or Cole’s friends. Next came rattling leaves, pounding footsteps.
“Yeah, they’re following you, all right,” Cole said. “Bronx?”
Bronx nodded.
Both boys donned sunglasses that strapped around their heads. Cole tossed me a pair, but I dropped them. Great!
“Now,” Cole said.
In unison, they stepped out of their bodies.
Someone must have flipped a switch, because bright halogens suddenly lit up the entire clearing, throwing too-bright rays in my direction and chasing away every single shadow. I squinted, my eyes tearing.
The sunglasses now made sense, and so did the dark circles under my eyes. Black absorbed light, deflecting the too-bright glare, allowing me to maintain optimal sight. A very smart move.
That was my last rational thought.
Frosty burst through a thick green bush, the black paint smeared on his face. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses. He dove for the ground, rolling when he landed. “Now, now, now!” The moment he stopped, he had two guns palmed and aimed.
Good thing. The zombies had arrived—and not just a few stragglers but an entire horde.
Pop, pop. Whiz, whiz. Thump, thump. Both Cole and Frosty squeezed at their weapons’ triggers, sending bullets and arrows flying. More grunts and groans sounded as zombies tripped and fell. The scent of rot intensified, making me gag.
More zombies pushed through the bushes, some stumbling over their friends, some managing to remain on their feet. But the moment the light swept over them, they wrenched up their arms to protect their eyes. I’d never seen them in full light before. Now I wished I hadn’t. They might smell rotten, and look it, too, with their dirty clothes, broken features and ripped, sagging skin, but there was something strangely…beautiful about them right now.
Their skin was like chipped ice, glistening with onyx and sapphire undertones. Eyes that had appeared black in the dark were glittering rubies in the light, and utterly hypnotic.
The zombies who weren’t hit by one of Cole’s or Frosty’s weapons flailed for the trees when they realized they couldn’t reach the boys without enduring more of the light. A stroke of good fortune—until a gust of wind snuck up behind me and tossed my scent at the combatants. The zombies froze, sniffed…those ruby gazes zeroing in on me. Suddenly they forgot their aversion to the light.
They marched forward.
“Swarming,” I heard Frosty tell Cole between shots. “Everywhere. All directions.”
Frosty faced front; Cole faced backward. Bronx extended both arms to cover left and right. Boom, boom, boom. Bullets flying in every direction.
Cole dropped his empty clip, then quickly and easily inserted another one that was ready and waiting on his belt. All three boys aimed for necks, doing their best to sever spinal cords.
They hit so many, piles of bodies began to form. And yet, they never made a dent in the numbers. As one zombie fell, two more would take his place. They just kept coming. When Cole ran out of arrows and his second round of bullets, he swiped up his swords and hacked his way through the masses. Heads separated from bodies, and those bodies collapsed—but just as before, neither head nor body died.
He moved with fluid grace, arching back when someone reached for him, then circling around to swipe everyone in front of him while kicking whoever happened to be behind him.
Footsteps. “Incoming,” I heard someone yell. Frosty and Bronx stopped firing. Trina and Cruz shoved through a wall of zombies and into the light, their hands glowing. They attacked the piles, ashing one enemy after another.
Another “Incoming!” sounded. Mackenzie, Derek and Haun were next to arrive, then Lucas and Collins. In their spirit form, their anklets hardly mattered, I realized. There was no sign of Brent.
Some of the boys were bloody. All were sweating, red-faced from strain and exertion. And here I was, up in the trees, doing nothing, letting them put their lives at risk.
Screw staying up here.
See? I’d known temptation would get the best of me.
Zombies followed each of the slayers, and soon we were utterly surrounded. All the kids continued to fire and fight and try to get their glowing palms on those decaying chests. Most of the creatures continually hissed as the heat from the lights flooded over them unceasingly, the blue tones in their skin darkening…darkening…becoming a thick black steam that rose from their pores. They no longer seemed to notice. Maybe because they felt no pain. Wasn’t that what Cole had said? And it seemed as though the zombies were actually working in organized groups, targeting specific kids, separating them before striking with more force.