Free Zombies vs. Unicorns by Holly & Larbalestier Black

and shoved against each other to get to the bowls Alison had set out, their hooves sliding and leaving streaks on the hardwood floor. “They really shouldn’t be drinking that,” he added fussily.
    “Mm,” Alison said, tipping back a glass herself.
    Belcazar eyed her darkly, and then he nudged her shoulder. “Give me a bowl too.”
    Otto had kept a giant bag full of cash and diamonds upstairs in a wall safe that fortunately had been made out of steel, to keep out burglars instead of unicorns.
    “I bet if I keep this, I’m going to get in trouble or something,” Alison said, looking at the money while the unicorns finished drinking. She hadn’t counted it yet, but the bag was crazy huge, and it was almost all in thousand-dollar bills. “Also, oh my God, we just killed that guy.”
    “He was fairly close to dead to begin with,” Belcazar said, lifting his head and shaking chocolate milk off his nose,“so I don’t think anyone is going to miss him. Give that here.” He tapped the bag with his horn, and the money all riffled quietly like a deck of cards before settling back down, looking somehow cleaner and more crisp. The diamonds glowed briefly. “I hope you don’t plan on spending any of it soon.”
    “What?” Alison said.
    “I’m certainly not herding five baby unicorns home
alone
,” Belcazar said. “They’ll end up in New Jersey.”
    “So, where is home, then, the Bronx?” she asked.
    Belcazar straightened his neck and tossed his head back a little, somehow managing to avoid putting a giant dent in the ceiling with his horn while he shook his mane out. “The entrance is in Fort Tryon Park,” he said.
    “To what?” Alison said suspiciously.
    “Er,” Belcazar said. “Home.”
    “Fairyland!” one of the baby unicorns said, lifting its head up. “I want to go home!”
    “Fairyland, Fairyland!” the others chimed in.
    Alison looked at Belcazar.
    “The
correct
name is actually the Land of Faerie,” Belcazar said stiffly, somehow managing to squash in a whole bunch of extra vowels. “Only infants and idiots call it—okay, you know what, just shut up and give me some more chocolate milk.”

“Bougainvillea”

    Justine : Carrie Ryan’s zombies are solidly in the Romero mold: the death that haunts us all. Her undead are also a reminder that this debate is not about which creature is cooler or nicer, but about which creature makes for better fiction. Zombies are clearly far more versatile than unicorns. In Alaya’s story, zombies were more or less the heroes; in Carrie’s world, they are neither villain nor hero, but a force of nature the protagonist must rise above. If she can.
    (And in doing so, our heroine reveals yet another of the important advantages of zombies—they’re way more fun to kill.)
    Holly : If you think that zombies are more fun to kill, you obviously don’t know the truly messed-up folks that I do. Actually, “Bougainvillea” is a great example of one of the things about zombies that unnerves me the most—they never stop, never slow, and inevitably they will win. I hate that!
    Justine : Death takes us all, Holly. Denial ain’t going to stop the ole Grim Reaper.

Bougainvillea
    By Carrie Ryan
 

    1. BEFORE
    Last year, Iza turned fifteen and her father threw a massive
quinceañera
. It was the largest party anyone on the island had seen since the Return, lasting an entire week. Every captain who wanted to curry favor with Iza’s father and gain access to Curaçao and its port or dry dock paid a visit at some point. They pushed beribboned boxes into Iza’s hands, their eyes always on her father to see if he approved of their offerings.
    They brought Iza jewelry that she shuddered to look at, wondering which bracelets had once adorned reanimated arms. They brought scraps of useless money from various countries for her to collect. Many brought books that Iza couldn’t wait to devour, all covered with raven-haired men and redheaded heroines.
    But one of the men,