You Are So Undead to Me (8 page)

Read You Are So Undead to Me Online

Authors: Stacey Jay

Tags: #Romance Speculative Fiction

BOOK: You Are So Undead to Me
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Holy crap. I wasn’t ready for this, not by a long shot, but Mom had said my power was strong. Surely I’d be able to freeze them, then sic the coming monsters back on their Creator . . .
 
If I could only remember the freaking commands!
 
“Oh God, oh God!” I froze in place, shaking my hands at my sides as if that would somehow jar my memory. Now I was really going to throw up. Throw up and then pass out in my own vomit, thus giving the raving undead a hassle-free meal with extra bile sauce.
 
Crap! Why couldn’t I remember the spell commands! Mom had made me study them yesterday, and I’d just heard Ethan say one of them the other night. Why hadn’t I answered Mom’s last pop quiz question when I had the chance! I’d known the answer in the kitchen, but now . . . it was like fear had given me the Jedi mind wipe or something.
 
“Come one Megan. Come on,” I chanted. I was almost certain the sending-them-back-to-their-Creator command started with an
r
and ended with something about earth, but—
 
Two zombies chose that moment to burst through the corn, eyes glowing red, clawed hands stretched toward me. My mouth went absolutely dry, my throat closed up, and I saw my life flash in front of my eyes—complete with several scenes previously deleted by partial amnesia.
 
I remembered slipping the fart machine Ethan had put in my backpack into Monica’s and embarrassing her at dance class. I recalled the excitement of building my first tree house with Ethan and his granddad, the time my aunt Sharon had visited from California and brought me an old Settler diary, and the smell of my mom’s perfume when she’d rushed into the hospital after my attack.
 
Great. My memory was finally returning, seconds before death by Reanimated Corpses.
 
And they were definitely Reanimated—the yellow drool leaking from their hissing mouths banished any lingering doubt about that. And both formerly female, judging by the shredded remains of their dresses. I had time to realize that they hadn’t been dead long and that one of them bore a slight resemblance to a deranged Pepsi-era Britney Spears before they were on me.
 
No, scratch that, running
past me
. They hadn’t even stopped to eye my usually irresistible living flesh, which was a good thing, since I hadn’t done much more than cower in fear like a complete loser.
 
That meant they were after someone in particular in the corn maze tonight. It wasn’t me, but that didn’t mean I was out of the woods. If anything, it meant I had to try harder to keep them from finding their target. Those two zombie chicks were like loaded guns I had to find some way to disarm, and only one surefire method came to mind. The undead were drawn to blood, any blood, which meant . . .
 
“Oh, crap!” I hissed as I shoved up the sleeve of my sweater and raked my nails down my forearm with as much force as I could muster.
 
It stung like nobody’s business, and immediately the grooves left behind began to fill with blood. And here Mom was always saying my thirty-dollar manicures were a waste of my allowance.
 
The zombies were already on their way back to me, drawn by the mystical lure of fresh blood. A quick glance down the available pathways revealed a group of junior high kids coming from my right, so I dashed to my left, heading back toward the dead end.
 
Luckily, what with the haunted maze theme and all, no one should be too freaked out by seeing me being chased by the undead. But seeing me attempt to kick their asses and possibly get eaten when said ass kicking went awry was another thing altogether. Even if I didn’t make it out of here alive, the very least I could do for my family was make sure they didn’t have to uproot everything and move because I’d blown cover.
 
“You’re not going to die, you’re not going to die,” I breathlessly chanted as I rounded the corner and emerged into the circular area where I’d first seen the zombies. I spun around, assuming my best imitation of a fight position—which was totally lame because I’d never studied martial arts or boxing or anything of the kind. I was a dancer, not a fighter!
 
But I was going to have to do my best to fight, at least until I remembered the freaking commands to send these ladies back to their Maker, and it seemed better to stage my last stand out in the open. If I kept running through the corn, I might escape them for longer, but they’d eventually catch up. Black-magically raised zombies just don’t tire out the way live people do.
 
They’re a lot slower than regular Unsettled, but they’re completely relentless. They wouldn’t stop until they got their super-strong hands on me. And when they did, I’d be exhausted as well as hemmed in on all sides by corn and unable to even try to throw a punch.
 
The girls trudged around the corner and lunged toward me, shrieking, mouths open wide, ready to clamp down around soft, living tissue.
 
I tensed, fists raised and weight evenly distributed between my feet. It was going to happen. Right here. Right now. Me versus two supernaturally strong zombies with a rabid hunger for my flesh.
 
If I were the gambling type, I
so
wouldn’t have put any money on me. Not a thin freaking dime.
 
CHAPTER 5
 
Britney got to me first. I reacted on pure instinct, lashing out with my leg, grand jeté-ing right into her face. I’d worn my Timberlands due to the roughing-it factor of hiking around in a field, so the sound as foot and face connected was entirely satisfying. Her head snapped back and her forward momentum finished the job of getting Britney flat on her ass, but there was no time for celebration.
 
Miss Undead Arkansas number two was already lunging for my throat.
 
I faked right and then rolled to the left, putting space between me and both my opponents, frankly thrilled to still be bite free. I never would have thought I’d be a good fighter, but my instincts thus far were fairly Buffy-esque.
 
“Hi-yah!” I shouted as I swept one leg out in a circle, tripping zombie two, who fell into Britney, knocking her back on her ass. Call me crazy, but the cheesy karate sounds were making me feel so much tougher.
 
Too bad they weren’t helping me remember the freaking words to the return-to-earth spell.
 
“Return to earth!
Terra
is earth,” I mumbled as I backed away from the zombies on the ground, readying myself for another attack.
 
I had the second part of the spell! If only I could remember the Latin word for
return
. Dammit! Why did these spells have to be in Latin? Didn’t anyone realize that we were living in the twenty-first century, for God’s sake?
 
“Hi-yah,” and Britney was down again, thanks to a grand jeté to the face. The chick was not learning from her mistakes. “Hi—”
 
I screamed as zombie two sidestepped the kick meant for her and tackled me to the ground.
 
We rolled over once, twice, and somehow I ended up on top. There wasn’t time to congratulate myself or scramble off zombie two, however, before Britney was on me from behind. Without stopping to second-guess myself I bent forward, then slammed my head back, straight into Britney’s face. Dull pain throbbed through my skull, but Britney was barely fazed. Of course—zombies didn’t feel pain, which was just one of the many reasons it was entirely stupid to waste time fighting them. And why I should have been using my energy to work spells instead of exhausting myself with my super-lame ninja action.
 
Somehow I managed to dig Britney’s fingers from my shoulders and dodge the zombie beneath me as she lunged for my throat, but I knew I didn’t have much time left. This was going to end soon, one way or another. Either these ladies were going to eat me or I was going to remember the freaking words to the freaking
reverto
spell.
 
“
Reverto terra!”
I screamed, a relieved smile on my face as I twisted my palms to face both the Reanimated Corpses. Before they could utter a final groan, both Britney and her partner in crime were sinking into the earth.
 
Thank you, mind! Way to come through at the last minute! I would have appreciated the words
before
my jeans were covered in dirt and before the shoulder of my sweater was ripped so that my bra strap was hanging out, but hey, I’d take alive any way I could get it.
 
“Megan, get up!” shouted a strangely familiar voice from a few feet away. I spun to see Ethan running toward me.
 
What the hell was he doing here? More important question—why couldn’t he have gotten here a few minutes sooner,
before
I had to fight for my life all by myself?
 
“It’s fine, I already—” I screamed and kept screaming as first one hand and then another burst from the earth, closing around my feet then clawing up my calves. I tried to run but fell on my face, giving the emerging Britney a convenient handhold on my arm. “No!” I cried, squeezing my eyes closed as her mouth burst through the dirt, her teeth headed straight for my nose. I smelled her rancid, undead breath and knew it was a only matter of seconds before a key part of my face was a thing of the past.
 
“
Reverto!”
Ethan’s command vibrated through the air, making me shiver with the force of his power buzzing across my skin.
 
Or maybe it was relief. Whatever it was, I was shaking like it was twenty degrees outside instead of sixty by the time the zombies fled into the cornfield, bound for whoever had raised them in the first place. If I’d left the
terra
out of the command, I would have been fine. They were returning to their Maker, after all, not the freaking earth.
 
I was so, so stupid. And would have been so, so dead if Ethan hadn’t shown up.
 
“Are you okay?” Ethan asked, crouching down in front of me, cupping my face in his hands, his eyes wide and freaked out as he searched for bite marks.
 
“Just
reverto
, not
reverto terra
,” I muttered, trying not to cry. I’d already screwed up royally—no need to add to my humiliation by bawling like a baby.
 
“Megan, you scared me half to death,” he said, transferring his hands to my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin in a way that made me certain he was having to work hard not to shake me senseless. “You could have been seriously hurt or worse. What the hell are you doing out here?”
 
“I’m on a date,” I said, lifting my chin, striving for a small degree of dignity.
 
“Yeah, I heard.” His tone would have made his disdain clear even if he hadn’t already rolled his eyes. “Your mom told me where to find you.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet.
 
I dug my heels in as he tried to drag me away, doing my best to ignore the electricity sweeping over my entire body. Holding hands with Ethan was so different from holding hands with Josh. Josh’s hand had just felt like . . . a hand. But Ethan’s felt way more intimate, as if he were touching something far more scandalous than my palm and fingers.
 
Before I realized it, I was coming down with a case of the tingles unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Having my fingers wrapped up in Ethan’s much larger, warmer hand felt soooo amazing. All I wanted to do was cling to him and let him lead me wherever he wanted to lead me, but that was
not
what needed to be happening right now.
 
“Let me go,” I said, struggling harder to free myself. “Where are you taking me?”
 
“Home, eventually,” he said, tightening his grip until I winced.
 
“Ouch, that hurts.” He relaxed for a second, and I took the opportunity to wrench my hand free. Thank God, now I could think a little more clearly without the whole tingle thing distracting me. “I can’t go home with you! I’m on a date. Josh will think I ditched him.”
 
Ethan made another grab for my hand, but I jumped back in time. He sighed like I was the most annoying little brat in the universe. “I already left a note on London’s car saying you got sick and called someone to pick you up. Now come on.”
 
“How do you know London?” I asked, narrowing my eyes, wondering why I was suddenly so jealous.
 
“She hangs out with me and Monica sometimes. Come on, sickie, let’s get out of here.”
 
“I am not sick, and I am
not
leaving!” I shouted, crossing my arms when he tried to grab my hand again. So he hung out with London and Monica, did he? Enough that he knew what London’s car looked like. Wasn’t that cozy . . . and strangely infuriating. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going—”
 
“You’re going with me. Now.” Before I could think of a clever retort to that threat, Ethan darted forward.

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