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No, it was the same sound he'd heard outside of Kyrian's house earlier. The sound of zombies hunting him.
A chil wind blew against his skin and he could swear the sky darkened.
Al the lights on the street failed as several car alarms went off.
"What the ..."
Something came out of the al ey 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. Rol ing 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 real y 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 letting him know how rattled he'd made him.
Stone laughed, shoving Nick back. "Did I scare you, little girl?"
Al 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 dul ed 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 embarra.s.sing and it seriously p.i.s.sed 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 footbal team, Caleb had al 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 real y were as he eyed Stone with malice. "Real y? Wel , 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 s.p.a.ce. 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 footbal pads to dul 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 sul en 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 ... b.u.t.tmunch."
"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 stil on my team."
Nick scowled as he sensed Caleb meant something other than footbal . "What are you doing here?"
"I was on my way to the Triple B. It's almost time for Mark and Bubba's cla.s.s on Zombie Defense and Execution. It's the most entertaining thing since that time Stone set himself on fire in chem cla.s.s."
Nick laughed at the memory. Stone had been trying to show off for Casey when he knocked over a beaker ful of something highly flammable that had exploded and ignited his sleeve. Unfortunately, Ms. Wilkins had been fast with the fire extinguisher and al Stone had lost were his eyebrows and some dignity.
Half the cla.s.s 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 al 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 kil him if he didn't.
"And miss Bubba's Zombie Roadkil Recipes? C'mon, Nick, you know you have to see this. It's must-view entertainment on an infinite scale of epic awesomeness." Caleb pul ed 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 basical y 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, basical y. "I haven't noticed you being slammed into anyone's locker lately."
"That's because you're not around me al the time. Trust me.
Life's not easy for anyone. Everyone has scars they're afraid to show and we al 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 tel the maid to pick up your room?"
Caleb didn't respond to his sarcasm. "You going to cal your mom or not? No real sweat off my nose, one way or another.
I'm just trying to be neighborly."
I 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 stil wasn't sure why Caleb was wil ing 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 cla.s.ses together, Caleb hadn't real y spoken to him in school except on rare occasions. Such as to tel him to move his punk b.u.t.t out of the way so Caleb could get to his locker.
An extreme loner in spite of being popular and playing on the footbal 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 footbal in juvey. One rumor even claimed he'd kil ed 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 al that'd happened today, zombies weren't so fictional after al .
"Nick? Are you al 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 cal ed 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 cla.s.ses."
"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.
Any time the authorities step in, Bubba usual y 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 usual y 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 tel 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 al 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 rol ed 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 unwil ing 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 gril ing 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'l ground you til you're old and gray. Now answer my question." Would she never appreciate his sarcasm?
Realizing he had to play nice, Nick took the att.i.tude out of his voice. "Yes, he's a good boy. Never been in trouble at school and he's on the honor rol . Captain of the footbal team.
Al -around psycho serial kil er who hides bodies in the fridge whenever his parents go out of town."
Wel ... he'd tried to remove al 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 smal animals for fun. My therapist says that I'm making real progress though."
His mother responded with a sharp note. "Don't you boys get smart with me."
Nick grinned at Caleb. "Sorry, Mom. We couldn't resist." She spoke to her boss, then came back to Nick. "Al right.
You can go, but I want you here in an hour."
"Yes, ma'am. I'l be there."
"I love you, baby."
Nick felt his face turn bright red as he turned away from Caleb. "I love you too," he said in a low tone. Then he hung up the phone and returned it to Caleb. "I don't want to hear no c.r.a.p from you about that."