Team Human (21 page)

Read Team Human Online

Authors: Justine Larbalestier

BOOK: Team Human
8.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Principal Saunders's Crime

C
athy came running when I told her that Anna was in trouble. By the looks of her dress and makeup, she'd been interrupted mid-date, but she hadn't said a word about that. I was relieved to see that she hadn't brought Francis with her—even as I wondered how she'd managed to keep his chivalrousness at bay.

We crammed into Kit's crumbling car—me and Kit in front and Anna and Cathy in the back—and snapped on seatbelts, and Kit stuttered the car slowly out of its ample parking spot and onto the road.

“Can you go a little faster?” Anna asked.

“Sure,” Kit said, easing his foot off the brake a tiny bit.

The car continued to jerk.

“Maybe,” I said as patiently as I could, “if you drive without your foot on the brake the whole time.”

“You can do that?” Kit asked.

“Yes!” Cathy and Anna yelled in unison.

“Seriously, Kit,” I said, trying not to sound like I was begging, “you'll be able to go a lot faster if you only put your foot on the brake when, you know, you want to stop.”

“Really? 'Cause that's not how June taught me.”

“June hasn't driven since the 1950s!”

Kit gingerly removed his foot from the brake. The jerkiness stopped at once. The car started moving faster and smoother.

“So,” Cathy said tentatively. “Why are we heading out to Honeycomb Beach?”

Explaining what was going on was not fun. Anna kept bursting into recriminations against vampires. Kit bit his lip to keep from leaping to their defense. Anna's tears probably played a big part in keeping his mouth shut. She was barely holding it together. Then every so often Kit would forget about the new no-foot-on-brake-while-driving rule and we'd all yell at him. Somehow we arrived in one piece.

When we pulled into the parking lot, Principal Saunders's SUV was the lone car there. We'd been right. It didn't make me feel very good.

Night was closing in. The moon was a sharp silver curve in the sky, the bay and sea forming the same sharp silver curves around each other.

“We could wait for Mom here,” Kit suggested.

Anna said nothing, heading toward the path to the beach. I was pretty sure she'd heard Kit.

“I can't believe this,” Cathy breathed in my ear as we walked down the path. She was trying not to shiver in her short black lace dress as the full force of the ocean wind hit us.

“We shouldn't do anything until Mom gets here,” Kit said.

Cathy looked uncertain and distressed, her long dark hair tumbled and streaming in the wind, like the heroine in one of those old gothic novels facing unknown dangers.

“I don't know,” she said. “Maybe—maybe we should wait.”

We all looked at Anna. She was standing a little apart with tears dripping off her nose and her face turned toward the sea.

“I want to talk to Mom,” Anna whispered, her voice almost lost to the wind blowing from the sea. “I should call her so we can find out where she is—if she's hiding in one of those caves.”

I cleared my throat. “Maybe it would be safer if we waited for Camille.”

“Safer?” Anna echoed. “My mom's not going to hurt me! I want to talk to her. I don't want to do it in front of vampire police!”

“No,” Cathy said soothingly. “No, Anna, of course—”

“I'm calling her now,” Anna said, more definitely.

She took out her phone. It fell. Anna dropped to her knees in the wet sand and seized it.

I went down on my knees beside her and grabbed her free hand, her fingers sandy and shaking in my palm.

“Anna,” I said.

Anna hit her mom's number. She pressed the phone to her ear, but we could still hear the other end ringing clearly above the waves shushing each other on the shore.

It went on ringing for so long, I thought nobody was going to pick up. We'd be left here on the beach with no answers.

That might be all right, I thought, my heart thumping as loud in my ears as the ringing.

The phone clicked and Principal Saunders answered, her voice breathless and upset.

That wasn't what made me freeze, seawater seeping through the knees of my jeans. It was the sound of the sea, magnified by an echo coming through the line.

She really was here. We'd been right.

I'd never been so sorry to be right.

“Baby, this isn't a good—”

“Mom,” said Anna, and began to cry like a storm breaking, in a desperate rush. “Mom, I need you. I don't understand anything, I can't— You have to come right now!”

“Anna!” Principal Saunders said. “Anna, what's wrong? I'll come right away. Tell me what—what's happening, has something happened?”

Anna was sobbing too hard to talk. I held on to her hand as hard as I could. “Mom—Mom—”

“I'm coming!” Principal Saunders gasped, love and fear in her voice.

“She's coming,” I said, low, but loud enough for the others to hear.

Kit and Cathy looked at me, and then all of us looked at the cliffs, searching along the wide gray curve of stone for movement.

I heard Principal Saunders's breath through the line, coming fast. I heard the sound of her pounding footsteps in the sand. It mingled with the sound of Anna's sobs.

I heard her scream.

Anna dropped the phone again. I stood up.

Principal Saunders came racing out of the caves, no more than fifty yards away. I saw the look of terror on her face. She ran so fast that she was kicking up a cloud of sand as she went.

“Anna!” she screamed, as if she didn't see the rest of us. “Anna, oh my God! Run!”

None of us ran. We all stood absolutely still: Cathy with her wide, sad eyes, Kit with every muscle tense as if he wanted to run but could not, Anna crouched there on the beach as the surf came in. And me, responsible for them all being here, frozen.

The only person moving on that beach was Principal Saunders, running as fast as she could toward her daughter.

Then there was something else moving on that beach.

He came stumbling out of the cave, staggering through the sand as if it was deep water. My brain didn't process it properly for a moment because it was a human shape, but the way he moved was all wrong. Arms swinging heavily from the sides, feet not placed so much as thrown, one ahead of the other.

Principal Saunders glanced over her shoulder and then back, even more terrified than before. But she didn't look scared for herself, though he was gaining on her.

“Anna!” she screamed. “Oh, Anna, don't look!”

Principal Saunders ran toward us.

What was left of Dr. Saunders ran too. I'd known him for years. He was a big guy, but he always looked apologetic about it, shoulders stooping a little beneath his checked shirts. He was one of the parents you could always sucker into money for ice cream, and he used to spend ages searching for his glasses while Cathy, Anna, and I doubled over in silent laughter because we could see them in his shirt pocket.

Now he was big like a lumbering beast, casting a dark shadow on the silver sand as he came after his running wife, toward his sobbing child.

His skin was mottled like a bruise, made up of dull shades of gray and purple and green. There was a dark, spreading stain of rot across that familiar shirt. His right hand shone in the moonlight where the gleam of bone stuck out from his fingertips.

I'd been right. Principal Saunders was keeping him imprisoned. With Anna's call, she'd gotten scared and distracted, and now he was free.

He kept moving toward us.

“Cathy! Kit!” I yelled. “Go!”

I stood and tried to pull Anna to her feet. She didn't move, didn't seem to feel my grip on her wrist. So I put myself in front of her.

What had been Dr. Saunders was making a low, moaning sound. It seemed like the only sound on the beach. He went “Ah—ah—ah—ah!”

The sound of his voice was curdled. Everything was broken inside him.

Sometimes the process of turning into a vampire went wrong.

The moonlight fell on his empty eyes. They glowed like car headlights in his ruined face.

Principal Saunders reached us first and shoved past me, falling to her knees beside Anna.

There was nobody between me and the zombie. I heard Kit and Cathy both scream my name. Why hadn't they run?

I seized a piece of driftwood and held it in a fencing stance.

Don't ask me. I know it was stupid, but they were my friends, and I'd led them here.

Dr. Saunders's headlong stumbling run checked for a moment, as if he registered a weapon.

A moment was enough.

A dark shape hit him from behind, moving at vampire speed, faster than the wind. Camille tackled him into the sand.

She looked at me through her black hair, fangs glittering in the moonlight, the perfect picture of a vampire in a movie, and said in the most exasperated mom voice imaginable: “Mel, please step back.”

I exhaled a ragged, disbelieving breath and did as she asked.

The rest of the Zombie Disposal Unit, all vampires, appeared as quickly as Camille. So did Francis, who must have zipped back to his house after his date had been broken up, found Camille leaving, and realized what his lady love and her friends were up to.

Francis went right for Cathy, taking her into his arms, murmuring into her hair.

Principal Saunders held Anna, both of them kneeling in water with the cold tide coming in, clinging tight as they sobbed.

In the moonlight the blood running down Principal Saunders's arm looked black.

She'd been feeding him, as well as keeping him in our school until his restless presence made the rats, who like all animals hated the undead, flee the building. She'd moved him to the caves and kept feeding him her blood, kept him chained so he could not hurt anybody.

I could put the pieces together now, now that it was no longer any use, now that the Zombie Disposal Unit was restraining him, covering him with a net that held him trapped and shuddering on the sand.

Rebecca Jones had meant to make him a vampire so he would be like her, maybe hoping he would stay with her.

It had gone wrong.

Principal Saunders had hidden her zombie husband, hidden him knowing the risk, lying through her teeth to everyone she knew.

When Kit touched my hand, the piece of driftwood fell out of my numb fingers. He looked the way I felt, tears falling down his face. I didn't think he was aware of them.

I squeezed his hand tight. He squeezed back, so hard I could feel my fingers again.

Then I heard Cathy saying, “Let go, darling. Francis, I need to be with Anna …” and I let go myself.

Cathy and I walked, splashing through the icy seawater, to where Anna was crouching with Principal Saunders.

Anna got up slowly. Her face under her crown of wet curls looked bewildered, like she'd woken to find the nightmare was real.

Cathy and I walked on either side of her, Principal Saunders behind her, guarding her back. All three of us together, we got her to the edge of the net. She stood shaking, looking down at the body still moving under the net.

The Zombie Disposal Unit, including Camille, fanned out in a circle at a respectful distance, with their heads bowed but their weapons ready. Francis and Kit were standing by the shoreline, Kit's head dropped onto Francis's shoulder.

It was just us near the zombie, listening to his moans.

And I understood why Anna had to go to him, and why Principal Saunders had done what she had done. At this moment, more like a nightmare than any other moment I'd ever lived through, I thought about love as something that endured through nightmares.

It took a while for a zombie's mind to go completely.

“Ah—ah,” Dr. Saunders said thickly. “Ah—nah.”

He was trying to say his daughter's name.

Anna said: “Yes, Dad. I'm here. Don't … don't be scared. I love you and …” Her voice wavered, almost broke. “Everything's going to be all right.”

Camille killed him then. He was quiet. Everything was quiet for a little while on that silver shore, in the shadow of those cliffs.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The Temperature of Rooms

C
athy came back to my house. Neither one of us wanted to be alone, and since we weren't allowed to go with Anna and her mom, we turned to each other. We said little as Kit drove us home, not even when he reverted to his brake driving. We were too shocked. Besides, what was there to say?

I'd called and let my parents know what had happened. Dad wanted to drive out and pick us up. It took Camille telling him that Kit would get us home faster to stop him. Cathy's mom agreed to let Cathy stay over at my place on the promise that she come home first thing in the morning.

Mom greeted both of us with a huge hug. Dad too. Even my pesky brother hugged me. Though at that hour in the morning he should have been asleep. We all should have been.

The trundle bed in my room was already made up for Cathy. Dad's doing, I knew. It wasn't something Mom would have thought of. She's a big-picture person, Dad says. Not great at details. It made me feel sad for Anna all over again. Her dad was gone forever.

I lent Cathy a pair of pajamas. My treasured green polka-dotted flannel ones. Treasured because she'd given them to me.

We slid into bed and I shut off the light.

“Do you think she's going to be okay?” I asked.

“Yes,” Cathy said. “I do.” She yawned. We were both exhausted.

“Good night, Cathy,” I said, wanting to believe her. “Thank you for coming tonight. I'm glad I'm not alone.”

“Me, too. Good night, Mel.”

I thought I would never sleep. I felt as if I had run a marathon after I'd been hit by a train. My eyes stung, they were so sore. But I couldn't stop thinking about Dr. Saunders.

What if I saw him in my dreams?

The skin sloughing from his decomposing flesh, the glint of white bone, the dull gray of his eyes.

Wonderful. I hadn't closed my eyes and I was already seeing him. How was I ever going to sleep again? How was Anna? How was she going to deal with what had happened to her father? With what her mother had done? At least she knew Principal Saunders had done it out of love. But still, she had seen her father as a zombie. Then she had seen him killed. How did you recover from that?

I lay there with my eyes open and stinging, trying to process everything that had happened, but it was too much. I shut my eyes and was asleep at once.

I woke to dawn light coming through the window. Great, I thought, that must have been two or three hours, tops. But at least no nightmares had interrupted my sleep. I hoped Anna was as lucky.

I doubted she was.

“You awake?” Cathy asked.

“Barely,” I said, but as soon as I said it, I was fully awake, the look on Anna's face as her zombie father tried to say her name clear in my mind.

“Poor Anna,” Cathy said.

“And Principal Saunders. Imagine keeping that secret for so long. Imagine watching someone you love change like that.”

We both shuddered.

“Do you think Anna will ever forgive me?” I asked, though I was also thinking about what Cathy must think of me now.

“Forgive you? For what?”

Cathy sounded honestly baffled.

“Showing her what happened to her dad. Meddling—”

“Principal Saunders's keeping her husband alive was hardly your fault, Mel.”

“I know, but if I hadn't interfered—”

“Anna asked you to interfere. Besides, if you hadn't, he might not have been found in time. Principal Saunders might have wound up as another zombie.” Cathy's voice sank even lower. “There could have been a zombie outbreak.”

“But—”

“You did right, Mel,” Cathy said firmly, sitting up and looking directly at me. “You were brave and smart, and you helped Anna when she needed you most. You're a good friend. Anna was able to say good-bye. You gave that to her.”

“It was so awful,” I said, “seeing Dr. Saunders like that. His skin … seeing the bones underneath … and the smell.”

“I keep thinking about him recognizing his daughter even after so much deterioration of his brain,” Cathy said softly.

“I wish we could stop thinking about it,” I said. Cathy was not going to think I was brave and smart if I vomited on my pillow.

“I've been thinking about it,” Cathy said. “A lot. About zombies, about what can happen if a transition goes wrong. It's different when it's someone you know.”

I was silent. Was Cathy about to say what I thought she was? What I hoped she would? Had she changed her mind?

“It's so real. I knew Anna's dad. We all did. Remember how clever and funny he was? Then last night he could barely say his daughter's name.”

“I can't imagine anyone I loved being like that,” I said, looking away from Cathy. “It's too horrible.”

“You mean me?”

“No. I mean, yes. You're my best friend. I love you. I couldn't stand to see you like that. But I won't, will I? I mean, not after what you just saw.”

There was a long pause. I stared at the morning light on my bedroom ceiling.

“You think I've changed my mind?” Cathy asked at last.

“Well, yes,” I said, sitting up. “You have, haven't you?”

“You know I've been doing a lot of research, right?”

I nodded.

“One of the things I've discovered is that it's true: There
is
a correlation between how someone is turned and how successful their transition is. Dr. Saunders was changed against his will. He would have fought his assailant—his murderer. You saw the result.

“The odds of my success are high. Not only am I willing, but we're doing the transition in a secure facility, with trained experts. We're not leaving anything to chance.”

Cathy's face, lying on her pillow, was sad but serene. I couldn't imagine being that calm, talking about the odds. The odds of her not becoming what we'd seen last night.

“There's still a risk.”

“Yes, but I'm willing to take it. I want this. And if—if it does go wrong, the ZDU will be right there. I won't end like Dr. Saunders.”

I did not want to imagine Cathy as a zombie, not for a fraction of a second.

“You're still going to do it?” I said. I couldn't keep the misery out of my voice.

Cathy sat up now, hugging her knees and speaking in a level voice.

“Yes, Mel, I am. I love you. You're my best friend and I'm really sorry you don't want me to do this. But I am going to do it. I'm glad you're worried about me. I'm glad you care so much. But you have to trust me to make my own decisions.”

She wasn't angry this time. She truly wanted me to understand.

“Even after what you saw? Dr. Saunders?”

She nodded. “Like I said, I've always known there were risks. But I'm going into this with my eyes open, knowing everything there is to know. We've minimized the risks as much as they can be. This is what I want. I know you don't want it for me. I respect that. But it's my life, Mel. I'm the one who decides.

“I don't want to lose you. I don't want our friendship to end. Will you—can you be my friend after my transition?”

She was asking me what Kit had asked. I thought of everything I'd told Kit about why I couldn't be with him if he changed. I'd told him Cathy wasn't going to change. But she was.

Cathy was going to change. There was nothing I could do to stop her.

She was going to become a vampire.

Cathy was watching me with her big eyes. She'd always looked a little wistful, even when she was a kid. As if there would always be something important to her that she could never have.

“I want you to stay in my life,” Cathy whispered.

“I want you to stay in mine,” I whispered back.

I was thinking about Camille. She wasn't so bad. She loved her son. She had a wry sense of humor even if she didn't laugh. And Anna and Ty were right: Cathy had never been much of a laugher. Even as a kid you could tickle her as much as you liked and barely get a smile out of her. Sure, she wasn't ticklish, but it was more than that. She was so serious. Cathy had been born serious. She would make a serious vampire. A little like Francis. A Francis who wasn't obnoxious and who could handle being teased.

“When I transition,” Cathy said, then paused, waiting for me.

So I said, “Yes.”

I admitted reality, at last. I admitted I could not stop it. Cathy was going to become a vampire.

“I want you to be there. I want my best friend to be there to see me leave my old life and welcome me to my new one.”

“If that's what you want,” I said, concentrating hard on not letting the tight awful feeling in my chest transition into tears.

Cathy held out a hand. I took it between mine. It was warm, human. I held on as hard as I could. “You'll be cold,” I whispered. “Room temperature.”

“You get used to it,” she promised.

Other books

Red House by Sonya Clark
The Glimpses of the Moon by Edmund Crispin
Keeping it Real by Annie Dalton
Trust by Serruya, Cristiane
Fifty Shades Freed by E. L. James
Man Candy by Ingro, Jessica