Free Z Children (Book 1): Awakening by Eli Constant, B.V. Barr Page A

and my office.
    I could hear
Izzy and Sam on our heels. “Just keep running, Marty. We’re almost there!” The
little boy was breathing heavily and I suddenly remembered Deb mentioning his
asthma last summer when he’d joined the soccer team. Shit. Shit. Of course I
had to get the kid with asthma; it couldn’t be the twin with perfect health.
Thinking that made me feel like a terrible person, but I couldn’t help it. I
wanted to live, even if living meant being utterly selfish.
    I chanced a look
behind us. That was a mistake. My movement interrupted Marty’s running rhythm
and he tripped, careening forward and nearly taking me with him- which seemed
improbable considering my extra, diet-resistant plush. Still holding Marty’s
hand, I yanked him back to his feet hard, but the delay gave Izzy and Sam the
mere moments necessary to catch up with us.
    Sam was on top
of Marty before I could blink, the force knocking my hand away from the small
boy’s. Marty’s scream was gut-wrenching. Instinctively, he began to scratch at
his brother’s face and flail erratically, hoping to free himself from Sam’s
grasp. My problem was slightly smaller, with brunette curls and a cherub smile
turned demonic.
    She’s not a
child. She’s not a child.
      I repeated this
mantra mentally as I slugged the little girl in the face, using every ounce of
power in my body.
    As Izzy fell to
the floor, her own nose gushing an acrid and black liquid to mirror her
mother’s wound, I turned my attention to Sam and Marty. Marty was getting
tired, his arms and legs flailing more sluggishly. I positioned myself and
kicked Sam in the abdomen as hard as I could. He grunted and sailed away from
his brother to land atop a busted shoe rack. Shit.
    Izzy was
squatting on all fours, having quickly recovered from my punch. Her eyes stared
greedily at Marty- who was sitting up, but unmoving. He was an easy target for
his crazed sister. 
     
    We moved at the
same time, Izzy leaping forward from the squatting position and me stumbling
forward in my size 7 kitten heels. I knew I was going to have only one chance
to stop her as my hand wrapped around the shaft of a little league-sized bat
held by my one and only display mannequin. Like a professional baseball player
I brought the wooden head of the bat around, just missing Marty’s little head
and contacting his sister square in the jaw. The crunch of contact made a
sickening sound and her mouth caved inwards like so much semi-decayed flesh.
    Scooping Marty
up quickly- Sam was already on his feet and looking pissed- I raced the last
few feet into my office, slamming the thick wooden door behind me. The door
lock was pitiful protection, but we just needed enough time for me to grab my
purse and get the hell out of dodge. I set Marty down now, grabbing my purse
and taking a millisecond to catch my breath. Closing my eyes, I took a deep
centering breath- the kind that Juan had taught me in class. Juan. Now was not
the moment to regret never asking him out on a date. I’d always been so worried
that dating him would hurt business. Shaking my head, I erased Juan’s image
from my mind and I looked down at the quiet kid next to me. “You okay, Marty?”
What a ridiculous question. The boy had just watched his mom die… at the hands
of his sister and then that same sister had tried to kill him with the help of
his twin brother. Most assuredly the kid was not okay.
    But the brave
boy nodded.
    “Are you hurt at
all?”
    He shook his
head. I could see dampness building in his eyes and I wanted to hug him, lie to
him, tell him everything would be back to normal tomorrow, but then a loud bang
startled us into action. My office door would not keep us safe for long. Taking
Marty’s hand again, I fast-walked toward the storage room. There wasn’t an
exit, but there was a window- and fat hips or not, I’d find a way to squeeze
through and get to my car.
    A jar of
Vaseline would have been useful and once both Marty and I