Eat, Brains, Love (24 page)

“Amanda,” I said, not sure what I'd do if she started attacking our new best hope for Iowa, really not wanting that to happen. “Come on. . . .”

Amanda shoved the muzzle into Cass's chest, forcing her back a step.

“I should make you wear that,” said Amanda, sounding hard and bitter.

Cass didn't make a move to take the muzzle, just let it fall to the floor. She didn't say anything back, which was probably a wise move and, after staring her down for another couple seconds, Amanda flipped her hair dismissively and walked over to the doorway.

“Jake,” she said. “Let's go.”

I joined her and we watched in silence as the NCD made their last stand. The few remaining agents had hunkered down back at the cars—our car included—using the doors for cover, keeping their backs to the vehicles. The zombies had them surrounded like a pack of jackals, one occasionally darting in to snap at an agent and being driven back by gunfire. The zombies were toying with them.

“Who are these guys?” asked Amanda.

“They're from Iowa,” I answered.

“Why can't we just go with them? What do we need
her
for?”

An NCD agent made it inside an SUV, trying to start it. There was Red Bear, leaping onto the hood, smashing the windshield with his tomahawk.

“I don't think we want to be friends with them,” I answered, looking away as Red Bear dragged the agent, screaming, out through the windshield. “I'm pretty sure they're the
bad
kind of zombies. And Cass says she can get us to Des Moines.”

“You believe her?”

“I do,” I said.

Amanda nodded, sweeping her gaze over all the mangled bodies outside.

“Okay,” she said, grabbing my hand. “I trust you. But, for the record,
I'd
eat her.”

I looked over my shoulder. Cass had sat down next to the dead lady, in her own little world. I felt sorry for her.

“I wouldn't,” I replied.

 

We couldn't go back to our car, and I didn't want to go back through the wheat field to where some of the Iowa zombies had stayed behind to guard Jamison and their other NCD “provisions,” so we went sideways, into an endless stretch of tallgrass field. I figured if we just headed in a straight line, we'd find civilization eventually and there'd be a car for Amanda to use her master criminal skills on. Then we'd be on our way. No problem.

We walked along in silence. Amanda made Cass walk a few steps in front of us, treating her like a prisoner. I wasn't worried that she'd run off, though; she looked like she barely had the energy to keep walking.

We passed through a field where a couple of bored-looking horses grazed. I'm not sure if they were wild or if that meant there was another farm nearby. I stopped walking.

“Want to ride these horses?” I suggested.

Amanda looked at me, rolling her eyes. “You can't ride a horse.”

“I don't
know
that I can't ride a horse.”

“Okay,” she said. “
I
know you can't ride a horse.”

“Oh, come on. I've seen people in movies do it. You just hop on and go, ‘Yah yah!'”

Amanda opened her mouth to pour more rain on my horse parade, but was cut off as gunshot thundered through the night air. We both flinched, spinning around to see who'd shot at us.

Twenty yards away across the open field, a lone NCD agent stood with his gun pointed in the air. He didn't look like much. Not like one of the hardened soldiers from back at the farmhouse; he was way too skinny and polished looking for that, even if he was covered in blood from a bite wound on his shoulder, another one on his calf, and probably others I couldn't see. Maybe he was the guy that got coffee for the real soldiers. He'd straggled far from the chaos back at the farmhouse, though, so props for that, dude.

“Tom?” shouted Cass with disbelief, the first words she'd spoken since the farmhouse filled. Then, she repeated herself, disbelief replaced by joy. “Tom!”

This Tom guy looked like he was one strong breeze away from falling over. He pointed his gun at us, at me specifically, his hand shaking.

“Get away from her,” he shouted across the field.

I held up my hands. “Okay, man, calm down.”

“Tom,” said Cass, taking a shaky step toward him. “You're alive!”

“I'm hanging in there, Psychic Friend,” he said. “You okay?”

“I'm okay.” Cass nodded. “I thought you were . . .” she trailed off.

“O ye of little faith,” replied Tom. Then he looked at me. “She's coming with me and we're getting out of here. I don't care what you do after, just don't hurt her.”

I looked at Cass and shrugged, because at this point I just wanted to take a break from having guns pointed at me.

“Yeah, dude. Whatever.”

But Cass didn't move. I'd felt Amanda tense up next to me when Tom first started talking. Now, she walked sideways, slowly, her body hunched over, giving Tom as little target area as possible. She looked ready to pounce.

Tom swung his aim from me to Amanda, then back to me.

“Stop moving or I'll shoot,” Tom shouted.

Finally, Cass stepped forward and at first I thought she was going to walk to Tom. I didn't plan to stop her. Instead, she planted herself between me and Tom's gun.

Amanda kept circling, getting closer to Tom as she did. It was getting harder for him to keep us both in his sights.

“Amanda!” I yelled. “What the fuck?”

“He's the one, Jake,” she seethed. “He's the one that killed Chazz.”

“Oh, come on, so—” I cut myself off before I finished the big
so fucking what
I had for Chazz's untimely demise. “You—we killed people too, Amanda.”

“It's not the same!” she barked. “They did something to him, and when it went bad, this guy just shot him in the head!”

Now Tom was aiming exclusively at Amanda.

“I got pretty good with this thing tonight, sister,” he said, shaking his gun at her. “Don't try me.”

“I'm not going back, Tom,” interrupted Cass, the words bursting out of her like she'd just come to a major decision. “I can't go back there.”

Tom tried to look at Cass out of the corner of his eye, still watching Amanda prowl closer.

“We can fix things,” Tom pleaded. “I promise I'll fix things, Cass. I saw what Alastaire did. We'll file a report.”

Cass shook her head manically, her hair falling across her face, catching in the dried blood.

“You can't protect me,” she said shakily, like she regretted the words as soon as she'd said them.

Now Tom swung his gun back in my direction. His eyes were wide, hurt, maybe a little panicked.

“And
he
can?” yelled Tom, pointing at me. “He is
not
your friend, Cassandra.”

As soon as Tom took the gun off her, Amanda charged. She didn't have far to go, yet it was just long enough for Tom to jumpily point the gun at her.

“Shit! Stop!” I screamed, feeling helpless.

I felt it then, like a shock wave in the air, and Cass was the epicenter. It's hard to describe because I couldn't see it. In fact, I couldn't even feel it like you normally feel things. It was like that dizzy feeling you get when you stand up too fast, except this time it came on with the force of a wave crashing on the beach—and it all happened inside my brain.

Amanda fell on her face, midcharge, like a puppet with the strings cut.

Tom collapsed too, the shot he had meant for Amanda flying wild into the night.

I was stunned silent. Well, for like half a second.

“Holy fuck! Did you just kill them?!”

Cass turned to me, looking groggy, a fresh and thick trickle of blood pouring out of her nostril.

“Knock—knocked them out,” she stammered, and then collapsed into my arms. “I managed not to hit you. We need you to help us. To help me. Promise not to eat Tom. Promise, promise, promise. . . .”

And then she was out too.

“Okay, I promise,” I said, and set her down in the grass.

I looked around. Three passed-out bodies in the middle of nowhere; one the beautiful undead girl I was nurturing a raging crush on, one a psychic chick that I'd made multiple promises to tonight, and then that Tom guy.

Well, Jake. What now?

CASS

I'M NOT SURE HOW LONG I WAS OUT FOR. IT HAD TO BE a while. I'd never pushed myself like that before.

I didn't dream. I was glad for that, worried what I might see.

Jamison running into the wheat field, never to return.

Harlene's cold body, forgotten on the floor of the farmhouse.

The pained look in Tom's eyes when I told him that he couldn't protect me.

Alastaire. Anything involving Alastaire.

I woke up in a tight space. It was hot and smelled like gasoline. I was thirsty, my mouth like a desert, the back of my throat sore. My tongue was like a dried sponge in my mouth and yet I could still taste blood.

My clothes felt stiff and gross. I was sweating and my head was throbbing like it had never throbbed before. I tried to reach out to the astral plane, to find the minds around me, maybe get some clue where I was, but it hurt too much. I had a migraine and my migraine had an ax and my mind was made of wood.

I was in the trunk of a car. That much I had worked out.

That was a bummer. Still, I felt lucky to be alive.

I bumped along for a while. The ride didn't do my head any favors.

Eventually, the car pulled over. I couldn't hear any other cars nearby. Wherever we were, it wasn't populated.

Two car doors opened. Slammed closed.

“How long are we going to keep checking on her before we just dump her somewhere?” I heard Amanda say, her voice muffled by the trunk.

“Until she wakes up, I guess,” Jake replied. Keys jingled, clinked in the lock. Amanda threw open the trunk, sunlight pouring in. I had to shield my eyes, it hurt so bad, new, tiny spears of pain spreading from behind my eyes and into my brain.

“Oh, look,” said Amanda. “Sleeping Boring awakens.”

I sat up, my back cracking, my cramped muscles joining my brain in its chorus of agony. I was still in my NCD jumpsuit. Bloodstained and filthy.

I pushed my hand through my knotty hair reflexively as my eyes adjusted to the daylight and I saw Amanda. It looked like she'd just had a shower.

“Hey,” said Jake, trying to sound chipper as he sidled up beside Amanda. “You're okay! We thought you might be in a coma or something.”

“Hoped,” clarified Amanda.

“Water,” I croaked.

“Oh shit, right,” said Jake, darting off to rummage in the car's backseat. Amanda just stood there, watching me. So, this was going to be a fun trip.

I guess I sort of
was
one of them now, right? I mean, not a zombie, but a fugitive.

Jake returned, handing me a bottle of water. I chugged the entire thing, then felt like I might puke, so I lunged out of the trunk, shoving past Amanda. I staggered to the side of the empty country road we were parked on and wetly heaved into the grass.

“Gross,” Amanda observed.

“Would you be a little nicer?” I heard Jake whisper.

“No,” said Amanda, and went back to the car.

Jake walked over and stood next to me as I finished retching.

“Are you okay?” Jake asked.

“Yeah,” I said, working moisture into my mouth. “But can I ride in the car from now on?”

Jake snorted, glancing over at Amanda. “I'll see if I can swing that.”

There was an awkward silence. I stretched my legs, not sure what I should say or do. Thank him for keeping his promise and not eating me while I was passed out? Apologize for spending so much time uninvited in his brain?

Right then, if my psychic powers hadn't been totally burned out, I would've slipped into Jake's mind. Just to see what I should say next.

“So,” he said finally, “I'm glad you're awake.”

“Really?” I asked, looking at him, wishing I could change out of this disgusting jumpsuit and into something even half as heinous.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I think you can help us. Maybe we can help you. I don't know. We've been driving for a couple days—”

“Days?” I asked, my eyes wide.

“Yeah,” he said, recognizing my shock. “You were really out of it. All you missed was a lot of driving in circles. It's all roadblocks and ominous black patrol cars out here. We've been afraid to get too close.”

“Where's here?”

“We're just outside Iowa,” said Jake.

Iowa. I remembered what I promised him back at the farmhouse. That I could get them into Des Moines. But I didn't have any idea how to do that, or what was even there, not to mention at the border. All I'd heard were the rumors that the place was overrun, but our superiors never let on if they were actually true.

I glanced back at the car. Amanda was leaning against it, peering down at a road atlas. Pretending to read. Really, she was watching me. I was pretty sure she'd take any excuse to eat me.

I should've let Tom shoot her. Oh, Tom! What about Tom?

“That guy back at the farmhouse—” I began hesitantly. “My friend Tom, did you . . .”

“I left him there,” Jake said. “I don't know what happened next.”

I nodded. Jake had kept his promise. I hoped Tom had made it back to Washington safe. And I hoped Jamison was safe too, wherever he'd ended up.

As for Alastaire, I hoped he'd bled to death in that wheat field.

Amanda approached with the road atlas.

“All right, Magellan,” she said, pointing on the map to an empty spot of country on the southern border of Iowa. “We're here. Where's the secret entrance?”

“Guide us,” said Jake, lowering his voice conspiratorially and looking right at me. “We have no idea what we're doing.”

That made three of us.