Alice in Zombieland - Showalter Gena - Страница 43
- Предыдущая
- 43/79
- Следующая
“I didn’t…I wouldn’t…” Dang it! The words were snagging in my throat.
There was only one person who hated me enough to accuse me of something that skeevie. Mackenzie Love. Was she truly that vicious, though? I mean, I’d seen my social death in her eyes; I’d expected something from her end. But this, even though, according to Frosty, Cole had told his friends to be nice to me, was too much.
Fury burning like a fistful of acid in my chest, I searched the crowd for her. I’d politely ask her if she’d done it. Then, when she smugly proclaimed that she had, I would smash her stupid face into the floor!
Sadly, I found no sign of her.
“Thanks for the intel, girls. Try and do a little damage control, and tell people how stupid they are.” Kat twined our fingers and led my protesting form away. “As for me, I’m going to the bathroom and I’m taking Ali with me,” she called over her shoulder.
I glanced over at Cole. He was speaking to Frosty, but his eyes were on me. Surprise, surprise, he was glaring. He also stiffened with every step I took away from him. Had he heard the rumors, too? Would he do anything to his ex when the truth came out? If the truth came out?
When Kat bypassed the bathroom, I frowned. “Uh, where are we going?”
“A place Reeve showed me last night and swore me to secrecy, since even she’s not supposed to know about it,” she whispered, sounding scandalized. “But you don’t count, since you’re one of us. Besides, you need a moment to calm down and we need someplace to talk in private. Just get ready to be weirded out!”
She pushed her way through the crowd, snaked several corners, went down a flight of stairs, and finally, we were alone. No matter where I looked, I saw plush furniture and shiny knickknacks. The walls were papered with cherubs, and there were even alabaster columns to guide us to each new room.
“What do Reeve’s parents do?” I asked.
Kat gave a sad little sigh. “Well, her mom’s dead. Her dad’s a genius plastic surgeon with the hands of an angel, or so he likes to say. Every week he’s dating someone new. Oh, and don’t call him doctor. He insists we call him Mr. Ankh.”
We worked our way down yet another flight of stairs, the fresh air turning musty, with a copper tinge to it. My nose wrinkled. I recognized the scent of blood. I wanted to hold my breath, but there was another odor infused with it, one that caught my attention. Was that…rot?
“Kat,” I said, tugging at her hold. “I think we should stop.”
“No way. It’s just a little farther.”
My heart beat so hard against my ribs I feared they would crack. You’re loaded down with weapons, remember? You’ll be fine. And Cole wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t used a… What had he called it? A Blood Line. The house has to be protected.
When we reached the end of a long, narrow hallway, Kat stopped in front of the only door. I was shocked to my soul when she pulled a lock pick out of her bra and shoved the tip inside the tumbler.
“Do you always carry one of those?”
“Of course. Frosty once told me I had to be prepared for anything. I said, ‘What about being kidnapped, locked inside a room and held prisoner as some weirdo’s idea of the perfect female?’ And he said, ‘Totally,’ then showed me how to free myself if that happened. He refused to tell me how he’d learned, though.” A twist of her wrist, and a click sounded. “Aha!” A little push and the door sailed open, welcoming us inside.
I allowed her to pull me past the entrance. I’d find out what had caused the odor, make sure there was nothing nefarious going on, and then I would force Kat to bail with me.
A few steps in, she released me, held out her arms and spun. “Well, what do you think?”
I studied our new location. No longer was the floor carpeted with thick, soft fibers. There was dark, dank tile. There were several metal tables, some with cuffs for wrists and ankles—and there were drains underneath every single one of them.
I thought…I thought she’d brought me to some sort of…torture chamber.
Trembling, I reached into my purse and palmed the blade. Before I could talk myself out of searching for clues, I slipped past her, doing my best to hide the metal behind my arm.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she whispered. Whispered, yeah, but still her voice echoed.
“Probably not,” I muttered.
“So you don’t think Reeve’s dad needs to buy a case of Febreze? Well, then, do you think he does secret surgeries down here?”
“I think it’s none of your business,” a male voice boomed from behind us.
Oh…crap.
I felt like a Tilt-A-Whirl as I jerked around, facing off with the intruder. He was only a little taller than me, which put him at just above five-eleven. His pin-striped suit did not look anything like the suits my dad had sometimes worn to church the few times he’d attended. He had salt-and-pepper hair, skin tanned to a deep bronze and weathered with a few thin lines, though not unattractively.
For an older guy, he was pretty hot—and he was eyeing us like we were rats in a cage.
With my free hand, I grabbed Kat by the forearm and shoved her behind me, and maybe I used too much force because she stumbled and humphed. “Who are you?” I demanded, more with bravado than anything.
“I am the owner of this house,” he said at the same time Kat muttered, “Say hello to Reeve’s dad.”
Kat peeked out from around me and waved. “Hey, Mr. Ankh.”
His jaw clenched as he nodded in greeting. “Kathryn.” To me, he snapped, “And who are you?”
You’ve faced zombies. This is nothing. “I’m Reeve’s friend.”
“Yes, I guessed that. What is your name and what are you doing down here with Kathryn?”
“We were just looking for a quiet place to talk, honest,” Kat said, and even I wanted to believe her. All that innocence in her tone seemed impossible to fake.
Footsteps sounded, and I was shocked to see Dr. Wright enter the room behind Mr. Ankh. “You shouldn’t have allowed your daughter to—” Lips glossed a bright red clamped shut when she spotted me. Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Alice Bell, what are you doing down here?”
Kat clutched and twisted my shirt, whispering, “Is that Dr. Wright?”
Neither adult turned to her but continued to focus on me.
“It’s Ali,” I said.
“I am still waiting for a confession,” Mr. Ankh said. “After all, you are the one who arrived with—” a sneer “—Justin Silverstone, are you not?”
“Justin Silverstone?” Dr. Wright asked with a clear flare of dislike. Every day she’d wrapped her slight frame in some sort of business suit. Tonight she wore a soft, flowing dress completely at odds with her take-charge demeanor. Was she the new girlfriend of the week? “Cole won’t be happy about that.”
Kat pinched me on the arm.
I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I was too confused. Dr. Wright, the principal of Asher High, was hanging out with Reeve’s father in a room full of dried blood and gurneys, but her biggest concern was my escort?
Okay. She might care more about her students than her social life…even though her social life might just get her killed. Unless…had Mr. Ankh kept zombies down here?
Yes, I decided a moment later, he had. That smell was too distinctive to spring from trash or mold.
Did Cole know about this?
I didn’t have to think about that for long, either. Yes, Cole knew. Otherwise he wouldn’t have let his entire crew take the night off and come here, not even with the Blood Lines. This had to be a safe place for zombie slayers. Which meant Reeve’s father was on our side. Which meant Dr. Wright was on our side, too, since she was with him, here, in this room.
And if all the slayers hated Justin—and they must, considering the way they’d reacted to the mere mention of his name—I had to wonder if he was pro-zombie or something.
- Предыдущая
- 43/79
- Следующая