Free Eat, Brains, Love by Jeff Hart Page B

bulk into the little desk, remaining slightly doubled over. He was holding his stomach and looked pale, with dark circles around his eyes. I really hoped he wouldn’t vomit. That guy could probably hold gallons of gross cafeteria food.
    â€œSo,” began Harlene, “I understand you were dating Amanda Blake.”
    Chazz nodded dumbly, keeping his eyes focused on the scratched surface of the desk in front of him. I realized Harlene had said that more for my benefit; it would be harder to massage our lie into someone like Chazz who had a more intimate understanding of our runaway zombie bimbo. Also—not to sound catty or anything—but after seeing Amanda, it totally made sense that this guy would be her boyfriend.
    â€œWe’re soul mates,” Chazz mumbled.
    I had to contain a snort at the way the big lug so casually played the soul-mate card. Chazz sure didn’t look like the type to get all poetic.
    â€œI see,” replied Harlene. “So you weren’t aware of her relationship with Jake Stephens?”
    â€œWho? What the fuck, lady?” Chazz clutched himself tighter and, as he did, his stomach let loose a seismic rumble. A thick vein on his neck throbbed. “Ugh—I need to go, I’m gonna be sick.”
    Chazz wasn’t taking this well; convincing him that his high school sweetheart had made a death pact with some other guy was going to be a tough sell.
    Harlene glanced at me. “Just another moment, Mr. Slade. We need to discuss Amanda.”
    I probed Chazz’s mind. I expected to find anger and confusion, maybe some stifled feelings of inadequacy or the urge to go punch a smaller person in the face—you know, typical emotions for a cheating-girlfriend situation. Instead, I found a cold place. A mind rapidly going numb.
    While most minds are labyrinthine, Chazz’s mind only had room for two thoughts just then: fight it and eat them.
    Oh my god. He was one of them. Right on the verge of full undead mode.
    â€œHarlene!” was all I managed to scream before Chazz lunged across the desk. Harlene was just quick enough to get her arm up, Chazz’s teeth sinking into her forearm instead of her throat. He tore off a chunk of flesh, and Harlene fell backward in her chair.
    Chazz tossed his head back, gulping down the bite he’d taken out of Harlene. The throbbing vein in his neck had turned black under his suddenly paper-white skin. He’d gone full zombie. His eyes were sunken in his head, dark and empty.
    And staring right at me.
    I heard Harlene shouting for Jamison, but even though he was just in the hallway outside, I knew he’d be too late. Chazz would tear me apart before Jamison had even unholstered his gun. Two zombie massacres in one school on the same day? At least I’d be part of some NCD record.
    As Chazz lumbered toward me, I acted instinctively. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing—probably like those moms you read about who lift cars off their babies. I reached into his mind as hard as I could, ignoring the cold and clammy feeling touching that dead organ sent shooting through me, and basically just thrashed around. Like groping for a light switch in a dark room. When my astral fingers came up against something, I yanked with all my mental might.
    Chazz collapsed to the floor inches in front of me, unconscious, just as Jamison burst through the door with his gun drawn. Mere seconds had passed since Chazz had bitten Harlene.
    I felt dizzy, like I’d gotten up too fast, and then white spots flashed across my vision and my head started aching like I was being stabbed repeatedly in the brain. I fell to the floor next to Harlene, who was clutching the wound on her arm, blood squeezing through her fingers.
    â€œWhat did you do?” she wheezed. Her words sounded like they were coming from underground and I couldn’t make my mouth form an answer, even though that answer would have been “not a freaking