Free Zombified by Adam Gallardo

hunt was a bust. I hope you get your car fixed.”
    â€œThanks,” Phil said, his voice flat.
    â€œYeah, well, good night.” I opened the door and started to remove my ass from that amazing seat when I felt a hand on my arm. Warren grinned at me, but the grin was different. There was something else behind it I couldn’t read.
    â€œI meant what I said, Courtney,” he said. “I’m glad I was finally able to meet you.”
    â€œUm, yeah,” I said, ever ready with a pithy comeback. “It was good to meet you, too.”
    I closed the door and as the car’s dome light faded, I saw Cody and Phil looking at me. Cody glared, but Phil’s expression was blank. He might be thinking anything. I shuddered. Warren put the car in gear and pulled away.
    I hugged myself for a second, then I remembered I was on the wrong side of our chain-link fence. I hustled into the yard. I found my bedroom window still open—whenever I sneaked out, I was half-convinced I’d find my dad waiting to bust me, but my room was dad-free.
    I stripped down to my delicate underthings—boy shorts and a sports bra—and crawled into bed.
    It was a really long time before I fell asleep.

CHAPTER SIX
    Zombified
    T he next few weeks went really well, all things considered. My dad started to let me off the leash more and more. Phil came over to dinner with us every once in a while. I even invited Cody over but he claimed that “family stuff” gave him the heebie-jeebies, whatever that meant. I was acing my classes, including a couple that I had at the community college where my dad worked—by the time I got to Columbia University I’d have enough credits to be considered a sophomore. If the credits transferred.
    While we hadn’t gone out zombie hunting with Warren, we had all hung out with him a few times. He introduced us to a bunch of people in the upper crust of the school hierarchy. Which was funny when you thought about it. We’d gone to school with most of these people since kindergarten, but it took a new kid to give us access to their world. High school was a weird, shitty world. Like if Philip K. Dick wrote for Degrassi High , or something.
    Things were going so well in my life, that one Saturday in November, I decided to do something I hadn’t done in a long time. I flipped open my laptop and Googled news about the recovery of NYC. I figured that even if there was no news, or even bad news, things were going so well that I would only be laid low for a day or two. A week tops.
    I fired up Google, entered the search term, and hit return. Then I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers.
    When I opened them again, I nearly crapped my pants. From excitement.
    ARMY ANNOUNCES RECLAMATION OF NYC BEGINNING IN NEW YEAR, screamed the headline. Then I screamed.
    Dad came running down the hall. He threw open the door and stood there panting from the twenty-foot jog.
    â€œIs everything okay?” he asked.
    â€œThey’re going to take back New York!” I gushed. I jumped up and hugged him. His body was oddly resistant and he didn’t return the hug. In my overhyped state, I ignored it.
    â€œUm, yay?” he said.
    â€œIsn’t it great?” I asked. I smiled up at him. Signals began to seep through my bubble of joy. Brow: furrowed. Mouth: frowning. Body: stiff. What the hell? Why wasn’t he joining in on my lovefest?
    â€œUm, what gives?” I asked. “I thought you’d be excited, too.”
    â€œI’m happy,” Dad said, “for the people of New York, a city so nice they named it twice, I might add.” He paused for me to laugh, but that wasn’t going to happen, so he went on. “Anyway, I’m glad they’ll finally get their city back, but I’m not sure why you’re so excited.”
    â€œNot sure . . . ?” How was he so dense? I almost said that out loud, but a finely honed sense of self-preservation made me