Infinity: Chronicles of Nick Page 12

  Nick set his book down as he thought about her taking the streetcars to and from work while more zombies could be out on the street. His mom would barely be a snack for them. "Would you mind if I went in to work with you tonight?"

  "You need to rest."

  "Yeah, but with all this weird sh—" He caught himself before he said something she'd ground him over."—stuff going on, I'd feel better if you weren't by yourself."

  A slow smile spread across her beautiful face. "You going to be my protector?"

  "That's my job, isn't it?"

  "All right. Grab a jacket and I'll tell Mennie."

  Nick did as she ordered. She didn't often let him go to the club on school nights, but he'd meant what he said. He didn't like his mom out by herself. New Orleans could be dangerous on its best nights and since she was all he had ...

  He'd guard her with every breath in his body.

  By the time he had his jacket on over his bad arm and had reached the porch, Mennie was outside with her.

  "Why don't you borrow my car, chere?"

  His mom hesitated. "You know I don't like being responsible for other people's property. Besides, it's hard and expensive to park it in the Quarter. Bourbon Street's already blocked off."

  "Then park it on Royal. Please, Cherise. I'd feel better if you two weren't roaming the streets in the wee hours of the night by yourselves. Think of poor Nicky."

  His mom looked at him before she nodded.

  Menyara handed her the keys, then kissed Nick on the cheek. "You watch over your mom."

  "Always."

  His mom smiled at her. "I'll leave the keys on the counter so that you can get them in the morning." "Sounds good."

  His mom turned and led him down the steps to where Menyara's dark blue Taurus waited next to their beat-up red Yugo that needed repairs they couldn't afford at present. Nick got in first. It was weird to be in Mennie's car without her. Normally they only rode in it whenever there was a hurricane coming and they needed to evacuate when their own car was broken down.

  Or Nick needed stitches.

  Not wanting to think about that, he buckled himself in while his mom started the car.

  She ruffled his hair. "You know, since I have the car, you could stay home."

  "Nope. You still have to walk from Royal to Bourbon."

  She shook her head. "Myfierce little bulldog."

  "I'm bigger than you."

  "I'm meaner."

  She always said that, but it wasn't true. His mom was the kindest person he'd ever met. It was one of the reasons why he was so protective of her. In many ways, she was still a doe-eyed innocent who only saw the good in people.

  Impossible to believe, but she even defended his dad and there really was nothing good to be said about that man. He was like the devil himself.

  Closing his eyes, he listened to the zydeco playing low on the car radio. That and Elvis were his mom's favorite kinds of music. Zydeco, she said, because it spoke to her Cajun roots. Elvis because it reminded her of being a little girl and playing with her cousins and sister. Apparently they used to get together and try to out-Elvis each other. And that thought made him grimace as the Mojo Nixon song "Elvis Is Everywhere" started echoing in his head—it'd take him days to get that to stop torturing him.

  And it didn't make sense that they impersonated Elvis since they were all girls, but far from him to interject sanity into anything, especially after the day he'd had.

  They reached Royal Street and parked two blocks from her club. Nick got out and scanned the street where tourists were walking, some stopping to browse in the windows of the antique and jewelry stores that lined the street. They were only a few blocks away from Liza's store. She should be closing up right about now and getting her receipts together for her deposit.

  He walked his mom to her club, then hesitated at the back door as she knocked for admittance. "Do you mind if I go check on Ms. Liza?"

  She gave him a suspicious scowl. "Is that really what you're doing?"

  "I promise. I don't like her dropping cash at the bank alone."

  His mom kissed him on the cheek. "I don't know how I raised such a great son. Go on, but don't be gone long."

  "I won't." He nodded to John as he let his mom in, then reversed his tracks back to Royal Street and over to the doll store.

  Just as he thought, Liza was at the counter batching her credit card machine. She looked up and smiled at him as he knocked on the window.

  Crossing the shop, she came to the door to let him in. "Well, isn't this a surprise. What are you doing here, sweetie?"

  "I came to work with my mom and just wanted to see if you needed me to walk with you to the bank."

  She locked the door behind him. "How thoughtful of you and yes, I'd love to have company. I'm just about done. You want a cola or something while I finish?"

  "You got any cookies?"

  "Always."

  Nick skipped around her to go to the back room where she usually kept her fresh-baked cookies. Oh yeah, now this is what he was talking about....

  He didn't know what she put in them, but they melted in his mouth and left him aching to eat his weight in them.

  "By the way," he called out as he grabbed a handful. "Thanks for sending some to the hospital. They made my day."

  "You're quite welcome, Mr. Gautier. Have you been to Kyrian's yet?"

  "Was there earlier." He came out of the room to stand with her behind the counter. "Met a friend of his named Ash Parthen-something I can't pronounce."

  She went completely still.

  Nick wondered what that meant. "You know him too?"

  "I do." She tucked her bills into the blue envelope she used to hold the deposit money.

  "Any idea how to say his last name?"

  "With great respect." She winked at him. "It's Pahr-thin-oh-pay-us. Ack-uh-ron Pahr-thin-oh-pay-us."

  "Yeah, that's a mouthful. I don't think I even want to know how to spell it. Can you imagine having to learn that in kindergarten? And I thought Gautier was hard. I was almost ten before I stopped putting an 's-h' in it."

  She laughed.

  Nick had just finished the last of his cookies when she reached for her jacket. Shrugging it on, she went to set the alarm while he waited by the door. As soon as it was beeping, she led him out and locked it tight.

  Liza wrapped her arms around his good one. "You know, I miss these walks with you. Any chance I can steal you back from Kyrian?"

  "You'll have to talk to him about it. Since he paid for the hospital, he kind of owns me." "I'm sure he pays better too."

  "A little bit. But he doesn't bake me chocolate chip cookies.

  Laughing, she stopped at the ATM and made her drop. Nick escorted her back to her car and waved to her as she got in and left him on the street in front of her store. He was just about to head back to the club when he heard a strange sound coming out of the alley that cut between her store and the one next to it. It sounded like a dog....

  No, it was the same sound he'd heard outside of Kyrian's house earlier. The sound of zombies hunting him.

  A chill wind blew against his skin and he could swear the sky darkened.

  All the lights on the street failed as several car alarms went off.

  "Whatthe ..."

  Something came out of the alley so fast he couldn't even identify it as it rammed into him and knocked him back.

  CHAPTER 9

  It struck him hard in the chest and knocked him down. Rolling with it, he came to his feet, ready to fight, even though his shoulder was throbbing again. Dang, would it never stop hurting?

  His stomach knotted as he recognized Stone. At first he thought Stone was a zombie, but as he looked at him, he realized he was ...

  As normal as Stone could be. Which really wasn't saying much.

  "What are you doing?" Nick had to force himself to stop there and not let fly the particularly nasty insult that was stinging his tongue. But he wouldn't give Stone the satisfaction of lettin
g him know how rattled he'd made him.

  Stone laughed, shoving Nick back. "Did I scare you, little girl?"

  All right, gloves off. "You're such an epic dork."

  Stone grabbed him in a grip so fierce it didn't seem human. "I'm going to make you eat those words, Gautier. Along with your teeth."

  Nick tried to break free. Stone increased the pressure on his neck until his vision dulled and his ears buzzed. What kind of Vulcan, kung fu death grip was he using? Nick was like a puppy someone had grabbed by the scruff of his neck. His body had just gone limp and he couldn't do anything other than dangle in Stone's grip.

  It was highly embarrassing and it seriously pissed him off.

  "Let him go, Stone. Now."

  Stone's grip tightened as Caleb Malphas stepped out of the shadows. The quarterback and star of their high school football team, Caleb had all the power and popularity Stone craved.

  And luckily none of Stone's stupidity or cruelty.

  Stone shoved Nick away. "I was just having fun with him."

  Caleb's dark hair was brushed back from his face, showing just how perfect his features really were as he eyed Stone with malice. "Really? Well, why don't you run along before I decide to have some fun with you?"

  Stone's gaze narrowed. "We're not at school, Malphas. I'm not the same person out here that I am there."

  Caleb invaded his personal space. He stood so close that their noses were almost touching. "Neither am I, Blakemoor. Trust me, the animal in you is no match for the demon in me. Now move along before I give you a taste of what I can do to you without the football pads to dull my blows."

  Curling his lip, Stone blinked and stepped back. He raked a sneer over Nick that promised him another round whenever Caleb wasn't here to interfere. "You're not worth getting my knuckles busted anyway."

  With one last sullen glare, he put his hands in his pockets and crossed the street.

  Nick glared at the punk. "You better be glad my arm's in a sling. Otherwise you'd be missing some teeth ... buttmunch."

  "Is that the best insult you can deal?"

  Nick turned his fury toward Caleb. "You want a taste of it?"

  Caleb laughed. "I like your spirit, Gautier. It's a shame you're not still on my team."

  Nick scowled as he sensed Caleb meant something other than football. "What are you doing here?"

  "I was on my way to the Triple B. It's almost time for Mark and Bubba's class on Zombie Defense and Execution. It's the most entertaining thing since that time Stone set himself on fire in chem class."

  Nick laughed at the memory. Stone had been trying to show off for Casey when he knocked over a beaker full of something highly flammable that had exploded and ignited his sleeve. Unfortunately, Ms. Wilkins had been fast with the fire extinguisher and all Stone had lost were his eyebrows and some dignity.

  Half the class had been rooting for a Freddie Kruegering of Stone, but luck hadn't been on their side and he'd survived to continue being a waking nightmare for all of them.

  "You want to come along?" Caleb asked him.

  As much fun as it sounded, he hesitated. "I'm supposed to head back to my mom's job." 'Cause she would absolutely kill him if he didn't.

  "And miss Bubba's Zombie Roadkill Recipes? C'mon, Nick, you know you have to see this. It's must-view entertainment on an infinite scale of epic awesomeness." Caleb pulled out his phone and handed it to him. "Give her a shout and ask her if you can go."

  Nick wasn't so sure about this. Caleb hadn't exactly been overly friendly to him these last few years. In fact, he'd basically ignored him.

  So why would he care if he went or not? Unless this was a trick moment like when the cool guy asked Carrie White to the prom just so they could drench her in blood and laugh at her.

  Yeah, I'd look stupid in a prom dress. Worse, he didn't have the psychic powers to attack them back.

  Caleb frowned at him. "What are you waiting for?"

  Lightning to strike him, 'cause let's face it, that was much more likely to happen than the most popular guy at school inviting him to watch an infamous Bubbisode.

  "Why are you being so nice to me?"

  A sly grin curled Caleb's lips. "My enemy's enemy is my friend."

  "Who's your enemy?"

  Caleb shrugged. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you ... and I know what you're thinking. How can a guy as popular as me have any enemies or problems, right?"

  Yeah, basically. "I haven't noticed you being slammed into anyone's locker lately."

  "That's because you're not around me all the time. Trust me. Life's not easy for anyone. Everyone has scars they're afraid to show and we all get slammed headfirst into a proverbial locker from time to time by someone bigger and badder."

  Riiight. He was more than sure that Caleb's idea of a bad day was no match for his. "What? Your parents ground you for driving your mom's new car or did you forget to tell the maid to pick up your room?"

  Caleb didn't respond to his sarcasm. "You going to call your mom or not? No real sweat off my nose, one way or another. I'm just trying to be neighborly."

  / swear if I get drenched in pig's blood, I'm going after you with an ax. Taking the phone from Caleb's hand, Nick punched in the number at the club.

  Tiffany answered on the sixth ring.

  "Hey Tiff, it's Nick. Is my mom nearby?"

  "Sure, sug, hang on."

  While Nick waited on his mom to get to the phone, Caleb went to stare into one of the store windows. He still wasn't sure why Caleb was willing to do this. Even though he knew Caleb, they'd never hung out before. Caleb had transferred into school not long after Nick had and though they'd had many classes together, Caleb hadn't really spoken to him in school except on rare occasions. Such as to tell him to move his punk butt out of the way so Caleb could get to his locker.

  An extreme loner in spite of being popular and playing on the football team, Caleb ignored most people. No one knew much about him. He never talked about his home life or parents. If anyone ever asked a question about it, he changed topics. But it was obvious from his clothes and bearing that his parents had more cash than most, and the rumors around school said his dad was one of the richest guys in town.

  Of course rumors also claimed Caleb was an ex-con who'd learned to play football injuvey. One rumor even claimed he'd killed his dad and then sold his liver on the black market.

  Given what Caleb had said a minute ago, Nick figured it must be bleak at his house. Why else would a guy with his kind of looks, money, and popularity be wandering the streets on his way to see two lunatics give lessons on fighting off nonexistent creatures?

  Then again ... after all that'd happened today, zombies weren't so fictional after all.

  "Nick? Are you all right?" his mom asked as she came to the phone.

  "I'm fine. I'm just a couple of blocks away. I dropped off Liza and met a friend from school on the street—"

  "Hi, Ms. Gautier," Caleb called into the phone.

  Nick ignored him. "It's Caleb Malphas. He wanted to know if I could go with him to Bubba's store and attend one of Bubba's classes."

  "Oh Lord, what's he teaching tonight?"

  "Zombie survival."

  His mom let out a tired sigh. "Is he going to have dynamite there again?"

  "I doubt it. The ATF was pretty strict after the last incident. Anytime the authorities step in, Bubba usually lays low for a while."

  'And how long is it going to last?" she asked.

  He looked at Caleb. "How long is it?"

  Caleb flashed a mischievous grin. "It's supposed to be an hour, but usually Bubba or Mark has a serious injury about thirty minutes in and we have to break for a hospital run. Sometimes they come back if they can get in and out of the emergency room fast enough or the burns aren't too bad. Most times it ends early. I'd tell her an hour though 'cause we need to factor in the time it takes to stop laughing so hard we can walk again."

  The sad thing was, Caleb wasn't joking. "About an hour, Ma.

/>   "And you won't be alone?"

  "No, ma'am. Caleb's with me and he's a good-sized guy." "How old is he?"

  Nick clenched his teeth in frustration. Why did he have to play this game with her all the time when it was only a matter of a simple yes or no? Dang, his mom should have been a lawyer. "How old are you?"

  Caleb paused as if he had to think about it. "Fifteen."

  "Fifteen," Nick repeated into the phone.

  "What do his parents do for a living?"

  This time his temper snapped and he spoke before he could stop himself. "What does that matter?"

  "It matters to me and if you want to go, I want an answer."

  Nick rolled his eyes at the response that grated on his last nerve. "What do your parents do?"

  There was a strange look on Caleb's face. When he spoke, his tone was completely stoic. "My dad's a broker and my mom is his eternal unwilling concubine who sold her soul to him to buy the equivalent of a Ferrari."

  Nick let out a long breath. Caleb definitely had a way with words. "His dad's a stockbroker."

  "His mom?"

  "She's a housewife."

  His mother hesitated before she continued grilling him. "Is he a good boy?"

  "No, Mom, he's Satan incarnate. In fact, once it's over, we're going to get liquored up and tattooed, then find some cheap hos and have a good time with his trust fund."

  Caleb laughed.

  His mom, however, did not share that sense of humor. "Don't you take that tone with me, Nick Gautier. I'll ground you till you're old and gray. Now answer my question."

  Would she never appreciate his sarcasm?

  Realizing he had to play nice, Nick took the attitude out of his voice. "Yes, he's a good boy. Never been in trouble at school and he's on the honor roll. Captain of the football team. All-around psycho serial killer who hides bodies in the fridge whenever his parents go out of town."

  Well... he'd tried to remove all sarcasm. Thing was, for him, it was an impossible task.

  Caleb laughed again, then leaned in to speak so that Nick's mom could hear him. "I also eat babies for breakfast and torture small animals for fun. My therapist says that I'm making real progress though."