Then suddenly a calming breeze seemed to sweep over the RCs as first one and then another sensed a living, breathing human in the room. A human with blood even fresher than the stuff splattered across the basketball court.
Dozens and then hundreds of glowing red eyes turned toward where I stood, but, strangely, I wasn’t afraid—at least not as afraid as I’d thought I’d be. I was Megan Berry, Settler of the Dead, and in that moment I knew I’d been given crazy amounts of power for a reason.
I was ready to get this situation
Settled
. Permanently.
“Pax frater corpus, potestatum spirituum,”
I began chanting as I rushed forward to meet the first wave of zombies.
The first two I kicked square in the ribs with as much force as I could muster, beyond grateful to see them crumple to the ground and lie still as soon as my tennis shoe connected with bone. With a shout of celebration I spun around, landing another kick to an RC closing in behind me before turning back to the corpses stumbling over the bones of their fallen comrades.
“Inmundorum ut eicerent eos et—”
A round-the-world jazz kick knocked out another three zombies, but the corpses pushing in behind got up close and personal before I regained my footing.
On instinct, I lashed out with rapid punches, using sharp upper thrusts with the heel of my hand to fell half a dozen of the RCs. My dad had assured me the move could break an attacker’s nose and would certainly make any normal bad guy think twice about coming for me again. Thankfully, it worked on the nonliving as well.
Another dozen zombies fell to the ground as I continued to chant and punch, pushing my way deeper into the gym, leaving a trail of bones behind me that I leapt over with a dancer’s grace. Thankfully, my balance didn’t falter for a moment and my concentration was complete. My entire body was finally vibrating on the right frequency, flowing with the power instead of fighting it.
It was almost like dancing. Which meant the usually klutzy Megan was replaced with the one who could seamlessly blend one move into another, who could make a choreographed dance look like an organic improvisation.
Or in this case, make improvisation work as smoothly as any rehearsed performance.
“Curarent omnem languorem,”
I chanted, actually feeling a smile stretch across my face as I dipped and swung and kicked, finding I needed less and less force to deactivate the undead.
A part of me realized Ethan and Monica were fighting a few feet behind me, working the
pax frater corpus
the old-fashioned way, with javelins they’d lifted from the equipment room, but the rest of me was riding the wave of energy flowing through my cells like a whirlwind.
More Settler power than I’d ever felt before rushed across my skin, burst from my hands and feet as I lashed out at the zombies. The dizziness I’d been feeling since leaving the church in the woods was still there, making my lips buzz and my teeth tingle, but it couldn’t compete with the force of the raw energy surging inside.
It felt like I was pulling power from everywhere, from the undead I was Settling, from the blood on the floor, even from the stale air filling the gym. I was practically floating off the ground as I leapt over another pile of bones, the movement nearly effortless.
Until I forgot to turn around quite fast enough.
“Et omnem infirmitat—”
Skeletal arms grabbed me from behind. I slammed my knuckles back, aiming for where I assumed its face would be and thankfully connected, but two more RCs tackled me before I could shrug off the bones encircling my chest. I caught a glimpse of Ethan and Monica being overwhelmed by their own mess of zombies before I fell to the ground.
I kept chanting the
pax frater corpus
for all I was worth as I thrashed beneath a mounting pile of skeleton zombies, but I could feel my power rush fading fast. I’d taken out nearly a hundred of the undead, but there were still so many, too many for one Settler to take out on her own.
For what felt like the millionth time, I was sure I was going to die. A scream of frustration and rage erupted from my chest as I fought even harder. It was a hopeless situation, but I could at least—
“Pax frater corpus, potestatum spirituum.”
A woman’s chants suddenly broke through the wailing of the remaining undead. Seconds later the zombies on top of me stopped moving and a tiny hand appeared through the skeletons.
Kitty! I never thought I’d be so glad to see a member of Enforcement in my life.
She tugged me free of the zombie pig pile and then turned back to the gym floor. I fell in behind her, wobbling with exhaustion. I managed to take out a few more RCs as we worked our way across the room to where Smythe and Barker were
pax frater corpus
-ing the last of the remaining undead, but that energy wave I’d been riding before didn’t return.
Instead, I felt like I was moving through Jell-O, each kick and punch more difficult than the last. By that time the final zombies were on the ground, hastily being gathered into volleyball carts by the half dozen Protocol officers from Settlers’ Affairs who had appeared on the scene, I was completely wasted.
It was all I could do to stay on my feet. I was dizzy. Everything was spinning. . . . I stumbled and would have fallen if Ethan hadn’t grabbed my arm.
“Megan, are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I just . . . um. I’m just not really feeling that well.” That was the understatement of the year. I actually felt like my head was about to float off my body and my stomach was going to sink down to the bottom of my feet. Weird sensations alone, but together they were especially awful.
“Let me help you out of here. The fire trucks are headed down Main right now; we’ve only got a few minutes—”
“Scratch that, a few seconds,” Monica said, jumping over a pile of zombies to reach us. “Enforcement said they’re going to torch the rest of the skeletons. There’s no more time.”
“Come on, let’s go,” Ethan said, looping an arm around my waist.
“Okay, yeah . . . but I think I’m—” My knees buckled and I fell to the ground despite Ethan’s attempt to catch me one-handed.
“What’s wrong with—” Monica’s face swam into focus above me as I struggled to keep my eyes open.
“Are you still feeding that
exuro
spell?” Ethan asked, sounding freaked. “You’ve got to stop, Megan. You can die from—”
“She’s burning up,” Monica said, laying a cool hand on my forehead. “You’ve got to shut off the heat, Berry.”
“I can’t. I tried . . . when we were still . . . in the . . .” The world was spinning; I was getting sucked under, pulled into the black center of the lights swirling around me like trippy peppermint candy.
The last thing I heard was Monica muttering something about little Settlers biting off more than they could chew. I felt her take my hands in both of hers and then I was out, sinking into fuzzy blackness.
CHAPTER 20
When I woke up, I was lying on something soft and was covered with a blanket. It was a beige blanket and I was in the back of a primarily beige ambulance of some kind. Settlers’ Affairs’ work. It had to be, since beige was their signature color.
“Are you finally awake?” I turned to see Monica seated just behind me, her wounded shoulder wrapped in white gauze.
“Um . . . yeah.” I smacked my lips, trying to get enough saliva together to actually swallow. Man, I was thirsty.
Pax frater corpus
-ing my way through a gym full of zombies and then nearly burning myself up with an
exuro
spell had left me with major cotton mouth.
“Here, drink this.” Monica handed me a bottle of water. “Now listen up, because we don’t have much time.” She slid down the padded bench she was sitting on until she was even with my elbow. “Settlers’ Affairs called their contact in the Little Rock Police Department, and he came to get Jess and Beth.”
“Where was Beth?” I asked, grateful she hadn’t escaped.
“Some of the RCs you worked the
reverto
spell on followed her to the gym. She dumped the blood to distract them, then locked herself in the girls’ toilet. The Settler from the police department took her into custody before the fire trucks got here,” Monica said, words coming out in a breathless rush, making me wonder what she was so freaked about.
“Okay, that’s good, so why are—”
“Shh! Just listen.” Wow, spaz much, Monica? “We’re going to have to testify in court that they were trying to kill us because they were jealous or something. SA will have the cover story ready tomorrow and debrief us before we go to give our statements, but I wanted to talk to you about something else first.”
“Okay,” I said, sounding semi-normal when I spoke. “So why are you freaking out?”
“So . . . Ethan told me he told you about what I did, raising the zombie the other night to make it attack me. I just wanted you to know I only did it because I was jealous, because I’ve always liked him and suddenly he was all over a sophomore loser nobody.” Her eyes shifted to the floor, and I could tell how embarrassed she was to be having this conversation, especially with said loser nobody. “But I swear I didn’t have anything to do with the rest of it. I never planned to hurt you.”
“So you just happened to be at the same cemetery where Shane was buried? Come on, Monica.” My mind was fairly sharp, considering I’d almost been killed several times tonight.
“I followed Ethan. I thought he was just going to meet you. I didn’t know you two were Settling a corpse.”
“Hmm . . . convenient explanation.”
“Listen,” Monica said, obviously getting frustrated, “Ethan believes me and said he wouldn’t out me to SA if you wouldn’t.” She actually seemed like she was telling the truth, but I wasn’t feeling in a very charitable mood.
“You want me to lie for you. Why should I?”
“How about because I saved your life about twenty minutes ago? If I hadn’t helped you turn off that
exuro
spell, you would be dead right now.”
“How did you know how to do that? You’re not third stage yet.”
“You’re not the only one to think of looking ahead, Megan. I’ve been studying third-stage stuff for over a year. I may not be as powerful as you are, but I’m stronger than most, and I want to be ready for the Enforcement training program if they accept me after graduation.”
Monica wanted to be an Enforcer. Not surprising. She was all about getting off on being more powerful than other people.
“Kitty or one of the other Enforcers could have helped me turn off the
exuro
spell,” I said, so not willing to give Monica props for saving my life. “So thanks, but—”
“They could have. But they didn’t.
I
did,” she said, a note of real desperation in her tone. “Please, Megan, I’ll never get the chance to apply for Enforcement if I get another black-magic mark on my record.”
Ahh . . . groveling, sweet groveling. If only there were more time to draw out the Monicster’s torment.
“So what did you do to get the first black-magic mark anyway?” I asked.
“None of your business.”
“Let’s make it my business, shall we?” I smiled, relishing this moment of power over my nemesis. “I want to know what you’ve dipped your hands in before I agree to lie for you.”
“I tried to raise Dexter,” she whispered.
“Dexter?”
“My pet rat, the one that died when my mom accidentally stuck it in the washing machine.” Before I could marvel that Monica actually had enough of a heart to get
that
attached to a pet rat or ask how someone could
accidentally
stick a rat in the washing machine, muffled voices sounded outside the ambulance.
“Please, Megan. It was just a stupid kid thing. Keep this our secret and I’ll do anything you want.”
Anything? Hmm . . . now that Beth was in police custody, Monica would be captain of the pom squad, not cocaptain, which might give her something to bargain with. Call me crazy, but even after all the horribleness of the past week I
still
wanted one of those places on the pom team. And I wanted it badly enough to make a deal with the devil.