Infinity: Chronicles of Nick Page 7

  Shame on you, Nick. You're cheating on Kody

  Well, not really, since they weren't an item. It couldn't be cheating. Technically. Yet it did kind of feel that way.

  How flipping weird. I'm whipped and I'm not even claimed yet. Dang, that sucked.

  She sauntered up to the counter, leaned over it almost spilling her breasts onto the glass top, and looked toward the back room where he'd been. "Where's Bubba?"

  "Sleeping. Can I help you?" He tried his best to keep his eyes on her face and not on what he really, really wanted to look at. That might get him seriously bitch-slapped and since she was wearing spiked rings ...

  It could really hurt.

  She popped the gum she was chewing as she gave him an amused once-over. "What about Mark?" "Also asleep."

  She straightened up. "You new help?"

  "Just filling in for the morning. They had a late night."

  "I'll bet." She shrugged her backpack off, set it on the floor by her feet, and opened it.

  Nick stood up on his tiptoes so that he could get a better view of her shapely butt as she rooted through her pack. Dang, she was fine....

  / could so go for an older woman. ...

  Think of Kody. Think of Kody. ...

  After a few seconds, she stood up with what appeared to be steel stakes in her hand.

  "I need Bubba to sharpen these, and tell him that I need a new batch of shurikens. ASAP. Or sooner."

  Nick's eyes widened as he realized there was blood on one of the stakes. "Should I ask?"

  "Not if you want to live to eat lunch. Name's Tabitha Devereaux, and you are?" Cool, another great Cajun like him.

  "Nick Gautier."

  "Nice meeting you, Nick. Tell Bubba I'll be back at dusk to get those and they better be sharp. I don't want no vampire surviving my attacks to come at me again. Understand?"

  Man ... Why were all the sexy women absolutely insane?

  "Yes, ma'am."

  She picked up the backpack and slung it over one shoulder before cocking her hip in a deadly pose that drained all the blood from his brain. "Where do you go to school?"

  "St. Richard's."

  "The school where the coach ate the principal? That's so cool. Wish we'd have something like that at St. Mary's. Unfortunately, I'm the scariest thing there." She winked at him. "Have a good day, kid."

  Hoping there wasn't drool coming out of his mouth, he watched as she went outside to where a black Nighthawk motorcycle waited. Slinging one long leg over it, she started the engine, then put her helmet on.

  Ah man ...

  Nick didn't breathe again until she was gone. Whew... that had been the most awesome experience of his life.

  You know Bubba, I need to pay you to work here. 'Cause if women like that came by often, even if theywere total head cases, he definitely wanted a job. Forget Liza and her store that was usually frequented by little girls and their moms. He wanted to work in Hot Woman Valhalla until he died of testosterone poisoning.

  Letting out a low whistle of appreciation, he pulled the stakes off the counter and wondered who or what had bled on them. With Bubba's friends, there was no telling.

  He put them in one of the plastic bins Bubba used for intake items and left a note with her name and the instructions she'd given him.

  As he started back to the computer, the door jingled again. Reversing course to return to the counter, he tried not to be frustrated with the interruption.

  It was Madaug from school.

  "Hey, bud, what's up?"

  Madaug also leaned over the counter to look into the back room—it just wasn't as cool as when Tabitha had done it. Which was probably a good thing from Nick's way of thinking. "Is Bubba around?"

  "Nah, he's sleeping upstairs. Can I help you with something?"

  "No, I guess not."

  Nick noticed the fact that Madaug was really distracted and fidgeting. Like something heavy was on his mind. "You wigged out about what happened at school?"

  "Wha—no ... not exactly. Well, maybe. Kind of. Look, I really need to get a hold of Bubba when he gets up. It's really important."

  Nick gently scratched at his injured arm. "Yeah, okay. Want to leave your number and I'll have him call you?"

  Madaug reached for the pad and pen by the register. He quickly scribbled his number on it, then handed it to Nick. "Please don't forget. It's really important."

  "You got it."

  Madaug hesitated before he let go of the paper and stepped back. He cast one last wistful stare to the back room, then left.

  Okay, the boy was even more insane than Tabitha had been. Too many sniffs of the formaldehyde jar in their biology class. His brain must be pickled. Either that or Stone and crew had bashed him against the lockers one time too many and given him a massive head injury.

  Whatever...

  Nick tucked the note into his pocket and started back for the computer.

  He'd barely reached it when the door chime rang again. "Son of a ..."

  What now? He growled low in his throat before he headed back to the counter to see who needed Bubba this time. No wonder Bubba was so cranky. If this was a taste of Bubba's typical day, it explained much about the surly redneck.

  Nick paused as he saw three members from his football team walking around the store like they were looking for something. He didn't know their names, but he recognized their faces. Second-stringers like Stone, they were even more aggressive against "nerdy" kids. The kind of pricks Nick spent all of his time avoiding and the kind who slammed poor Madaug into lockers, then laughed about it.

  But the weird thing was they were sniffing the air like dogs chasing prey. It was epically creepy.

  "Can I help you guys?" Nick asked.

  The tallest, a guy with brown hair and a smile that ought to be used to sell toothpaste, stepped forward. His jacket had the name biff on it.

  Nick bit his tongue to keep from baiting him over that name. His parents must have really hated him. I'm here to serve Bubba, not get my butt kicked by oafs.

  Biff stepped closer. "Nerd boy? Where he?"

  Okay... sad that they couldn't even form a complete sentence. See wiat happens wien you abuse steroids? Dudes should have read the warning label. First the penis shrinks, then the sentence structure deteriorates. Next thing you know, you're climbing to the top of the Empire State Building, swatting at planes with your oversized fists.

  Granted you'd be there with a seriously attractive blonde, so even being a monster freak had some perks....

  But that was neither here nor there.

  "You looking for Bubba or Mark?" Nick asked. Nerd definitely applied to either-or since they were the kings of computers, B-movies, video games, and science.

  "Nerd boy!" He grabbed Nick by the shirt and hauled him over the counter to stand in front of him.

  Cursing as pain shot through his injured arm, Nick slugged him hard across the face, but he didn't seem to even feel it. "Let me down, you animal. So help me ..."

  The jock buried his nose against Nick's neck and inhaled.

  Nick screwed his face up in distaste. "What are you? A pervert? Get your sick hands off me." He kicked him hard in the groin.

  Biff doubled over. "He smells like nerd boy. Get him!" They moved forward, licking their lips. Oh crap! They were zombies, too.

  Nick jumped the counter and ran for the back room where Bubba kept an ax... just in case. Bubba had never said what that case was, but this seemed like a really good time to grab it. Not to mention it was the only weapon in the store that Nick could use with one hand.

  He angled it at the first jock to reach him—this one named Jimmy according to his jacket. "Dude ... back off'cause I will chop you. Hard."

  Jimmy hesitated.

  Feeling cocky about holding him off so easily, Nick strutted. "Yeah. That's right. You don't want no piece of me. I'm bad ah—"

  His bravado ended when they attacked en masse. Crappola...

  Hefting the ax, he swung at the first jock
to reach him. The ax landed in a case, shattering it. Glass fragments flew all over them as Nick pulled it free for another strike.

  But before he could angle it at them, Biff bit him in his good arm.

  He cried out in agony, then head-butted the jock. He used the top of the ax to shove Biff back into his friends. Then he turned in one graceful arc and cocked his arm for another ax swing.

  "What in tarnation is going on here?" Bubba snatched the ax from Nick's hand. He angled it at Nick like he was about to use it on him. "Boy, have you lost your ever-loving mind? Tearing up my store. Smashing my things ... You're lucky I'm not beating you with the ax handle."

  Nick gestured to the jocks. "Bubba, they're zombies!" He held his arm up for Bubba to see the blood. "And they're trying to eat me!"

  Bubba cursed. "Well, why didn't you say so?" Biff sank his teeth into Bubba's hand—something that was the equivalent of stepping into a den of rattlesnakes. Bubba punched the jock so hard, Nick swore he could feel it.

  Biff stumbled back as the other two opened their mouths to hiss at them.

  "Freakin' zombies!" Bubba returned the ax to Nick's hand, then grabbed a shotgun off the wall. He pumped a bullet into the chamber and took aim for the head of the jock closest to him.

  The jock's eyes widened as he realized Bubba was about to blow him into his next lifetime. Shrieking, all of them turned and ran out of the store with an inhuman speed and a freaked-out gait.

  It was like something out of Resident Evil mixed with zombie chimpanzees.

  Bubba ran toward the door to get a better shot at them.

  Before he could think better of it, Nick grabbed the shotgun right as Bubba fired. The barrel swung wide and instead of hitting the jocks, the shot blasted a huge hole right through the eyes of the picture of Bubba's mama that hung on the wall near the register.

  Nick stared at the hole in absolute terror. Ah God. I'm so dead.

  Bubba really loved his mama.

  And he'd shot her right between the eyes....

  The look of Satan's wrath on Bubba's face nauseated him. "Bubba ... I'm so sorry."

  He stalked Nick like a hunting lion out for dinner. "Not half as sorry as you're gonna be. Make me shoot my mama. Boy, what are you thinking? What the hell's wrong with you?"

  Nick had to stop retreating as he backed into the wall and had nowhere else to go. He held his hand up to stop Bubba from slaughtering him. "I couldn't let you kill them."

  "Why ever not?"

  "For one thing it's illegal... hello? You think the police are going to buy it was a zombie attack? I don't think so. And for another they're my classmates. Crappy classmates, but still. I have enough trouble coping at school. I'm pretty sure killing three members of the football team when we're coming up for a championship would ruin my rep forever."

  Bubba snorted. "So what? In case you didn't notice, boy, your classmates are zombified. Had I not come down here when I did, they'd be ripping out your entrails and chowing down. So you ought to be thanking me, not shooting my mama in the head."

  Nick swallowed his panic as he realized Bubba wasn't choking him. Yet...

  "I know. But... they weren't dead. How can they be zombies if they're not dead first? Ain't that the first step?"

  Bubba hesitated. "Well, that does pose a dilemma to us technically.... But only in the traditional sense of the word."

  "How do you mean?"

  Bubba scratched the whiskers on his cheek. "We're assuming their bokor raised—"

  "Their what?" Nick hated whenever Bubba used one of his freaked-out words.

  "Damn, boy, don't that school of yours teach you anything useful? Bokor. The person who creates and controls a zombie. What rock you been living under not to know that?"

  Some people would probably call that rock "reality," but Nick valued his life enough to keep that sarcasm inside. It was hard ... but after shooting Bubba's mama, he needed every advantage.

  Bubba rolled his eyes before he continued his explanation. "Most times bokors use corpses, but they don't have to. There's been lots of studies of chemical-induced zombies who weren't dead first."

  Maybe that was true. But Nick wasn't buying it. "Yeah, but what if this is like Resident Evil and it's the Mother Virus coming to take all of us out? What then? Huh?"

  Nick stared at his bite mark as reality sank in and his panic overtook him. The virus always started with a bite ... Zombie Zero. The first mark who started the apocalypse. And he was the one.

  "Man, first I'm shot, now I'm going to be a friggin' zombie. At this rate, I'll never live to have my first date or a driver's license. Ah, gah! I've come too far to die a pedestrian virgin. Bubba, you can't let me die ... I only have seventeen more months and three days to my sixteenth birthday!"

  Bubba cuffed him on the back of his head. "Man up, boy, and stop with that Hollywood crap. Zombie ain't contagious. You live in N'awlins, Nick, and I've been fighting them for decades. The only way to become a zombie is to be made one by your bokor." Bubba paused as if another idea occurred to him. "Now demon bites ... that's a different story. But them weren't demons in here. They were zombies. Plain and simple. So stop freaking out before / shoot you."

  Nick took deep breaths to calm his racing heart. "Are you sure I can't catch it?" He couldn't even believe he was asking that. This had to be the most bizarre conversation of his entire life, which, given the usual weirdness of Menyara, was saying a lot.

  "I'm positive. Believe me, I know my zombies."

  Nick scoffed. Is it just me oris that like saying I know my elves and fairies? If it wasn't for the fact Bubba might kill him, he'd say that out loud.

  "I still think we ought to disinfect the bites. Just in case it's some military-designed bioweapon."

  "Disinfect what? What did I miss?"

  Nick turned to see Mark entering the store. Yawning and scratching, he joined them from the door that led to Bubba's upstairs apartment where he'd been asleep on Bubba's couch.

  Nick sighed in agitation. "See what you miss by sleeping late? Me and Bubba got bitten by zombies. I say they're contagious. This morning only one of the kids in my school had it. Now, I just got attacked by three more. It's spreading and it's going to infect us all. We need to do something before it takes out all the good-looking women and leaves us with only each other. Call out the National Guard or the CBC or something."

  Bubba scowled at him. "The CBC? Is that one of those new anime people?"

  Nick rolled his eyes. "No. It's that place where they talk about diseases and quarantine people when they're contagious."

  "Bubba, Nick means the CDC inAtlanta."

  Bubba made a sound of disgust that originated in the back of his throat.

  Mark, who was barely a head taller than Nick, was still dressed in his zombie-hunting ghillie suit. Fluffs of Spanish moss jutted out from all the places where he'd tucked it in his clothes so that he'd blend in with the bayou. His face was streaked with camouflage paint and he wore yellow-colored contact lenses that had a rim of red around them.

  Zombie eyes.

  Also for camouflage.

  But that wasn't the worst of it. As he stopped next to Nick, there was an odor so foul it took his breath.

  Nick covered his nose to keep from being sick over it. "What is that smell?" It was like three-day-old cat vomit mixed with rotten asparagus.

  Mark scowled at him as if he was crazy for even asking. "Duck urine. It keeps the zombies from thinking I'm human."

  Nick snorted. "Yeah, well it keeps me from thinking you're sane."

  "Give it up, Mark. The boy don't know nothing about surviving. He actually kept me from shooting zombies who were in the store trying to eat him."

  Mark cuffed Nick on the back of his head. "Are you out of your mind, kid?"

  "Ow!" Nick rubbed the back of his head where they kept slapping him. If they didn't stop, he was going to get brain damage. "And no. I was keeping Bubba from committing a felony. No offense, but 'he's a zombie, Your Honor, don't elec
trocute me' isn't a viable excuse. Believe me, I know. My dad's doing three life sentences 'cause he killed, and I quote, 'a crap load of demons who were trying to kill me and if I hadn't killed them, Your Honor, they'd have taken over the city and enslaved all you petty, pathetic humans.' The court's not real understanding of that excuse. They wouldn't even let my dad plead insanity because of it. So trust me, 'zombies needed killing' isn't a legit defense."

  Mark shook his head in supreme annoyance. "Well, it ought to be."

  "Hey, Bubba? You in here or are you dead?"

  Nick cringed as he heard the newcomers.

  Bubba handed the gun to Mark and whispered to the two of them. "It's Officer Davis. Don't say anything."

  Clearing his throat, he ambled toward the counter up front as if nothing had happened.

  Nick hid the gun behind a curtain, amazed by how well Bubba could act. He slid his gaze to Mark, who was finally peeling off his camo suit. Seven years older than Nick, he had shaggy, light brown hair and bright green eyes. His features leaned toward pretty, except for his squared jawline. He also had three days' growth of beard on his face, which made him look a lot older. But it was his build that Nick envied. No matter how much he worked out, he just couldn't get the kind of muscle definition that Mark had without even trying. It was so unfair.

  "Can I see your bite wound?" Mark asked. "Could you bathe first?" Mark glared at him.

  Sighing, Nick held his arm out so that Mark could inspect it.

  He let out a low whistle as he touched the vicious bite, which was still throbbing. "Yeah, we might want to disinfect this."

  Nick cringed. "It's going to turn me into a zombie, isn't it?"

  "I don't know about that, but the human mouth is the germiest part of the body. You might get parvo or rabies or something."

  Nick scowled at that unexpected response. "Isn't parvo a dog disease?"

  "Yeah, but who knows what's happening in your school, kid. Could be loup-garous on the loose and that, my friend, is definitely contagious."

  Nick jerked his arm back. "I'm not going to turn into a werewolf, Mark."

  "Go ahead and mock, but I'm telling you, I've seen them down in the bayou. Many a night. A whole pack of them that shifted into humans. Walking in daylight, they could be right next to you and you wouldn't know it."