Undead Girl Gang(59)



“Shocker,” I say.

“But the details were too specific. The smell of her broken skin, the way her eyes glowed white. And then I saw you leaving campus with two girls in the car. The blond girl in the baseball cap you were with at the school memorial and one with brown bangs, fitting June Phelan-Park’s description. I had to tell the coven. You’ve put the whole town in danger, Mila.”

“They don’t eat people. This isn’t a monster movie.”

“They’re an abomination,” Toby says.

Different religion, same words. It might as well be Riley’s mom wearing that motorcycle jacket.

“Where are the undead?” barks one of the other biker witches. Her face has wrinkles so deep I could lose a finger in them, but her hair is coal black. “They need to be put back to rest to return order to the universe.”

“The whole universe?” I snap. I’m so tired of adults using hyperbole to try to keep me in my place. I’m not crazy. I’m not too angry. I’m fine just the way I am. I have the power to bring back the dead and force the truth out of the mouths of murderers. “The whole Milky Way Galaxy is out of whack because there are a couple of girls on a living holiday?”

“It’s against the will of the Goddess,” Toby roars.

“Then why did She let me do it?” I scream back.

The back door of the house bangs open again. Whether it’s wind or Caleb, I don’t know. The coven leaps toward the noise as one. I take the opening and run as fast as I can in the other direction, disappearing into the trees. I move in a zigzag, ducking branches and skidding on twigs. Rough bark scratches at my palms. The heels of my boots cut deep into the dirt as I scramble around thick tree trunks.

I trip and fall face-first to the ground, my cheek slamming into the dirt. My teeth rattle. Pain makes my vision blur. Army-crawling forward, I look over my shoulder to see if any of the older witches followed, but there’s nothing but darkness and the shadows of gnarled trees behind me. Everything smells like crusty leaves and moist dirt. I feel like I’ve walked into a horror movie and some slow-moving dude with a knife is about to pop out from behind a bush.

Instead, there’s another gunshot blast. Mice scratch in the branches above me, and birds scream in the sky. Raccoons skitter, fleeing to their den. Everything in the woods knows to be scared of the shotgun.

I flatten my back against a particularly wide oak tree and close my eyes tight, rooting around inside myself for the connection between me and the girls. They’re out of range, but not by much. I move with more purpose, playing hot and cold with myself, although it’s hard because every snap of a twig makes me feel like I might puke, which confuses my magical radar.

I reach for the rubber band on my wrist, snapping it with every step.

You started this, Flores. You have to stay focused.

Eyes open.

I hear the crunch of footsteps before I feel the shudder of a single girl passing the threshold of my magic. Even in the darkness, I can see white eyes coming toward me. The broken veins and blood vessels in her face don’t fade until Dayton clasps her hands in mine.

“You need to get out of here,” she whispers harshly.

“I can’t,” I stress. “Those witches are very serious about killing you guys.”

“We’re already dead, Mila. But you aren’t.” She shakes my hands sharply, like she’s trying to get the wrinkles out of my palms. “If a shot misses us and hits you, there’s no one to bring you back. Riley already got out of the woods. June and I will be okay. We don’t feel pain! We’ll find you when it’s safe, okay? We can sense each other. It’ll be fine.”

But what if it isn’t? I want to ask. What if right now is goodbye forever?

I don’t think I can bring them back if their heads are blown off. I think that’s the whole point of Toby’s shotgun.

“Go!” Dayton pushes away from me. “Go right now, Mila, or I swear to God, I will be so mad at you! Forever. Even when you come join us in heaven.”

I swallow, feel for the lump of my keys in the pocket of my jacket, and take off back the way I came. All the way up the driveway past the motorcycles with their lights on and their owners swarming the farmhouse. Into my car.

Toward Laurel Street.



* * *





    The air outside the Greenway funeral home is heavy with dryer scent. I know from seeing my reflection in the window of my car that I’m a mess, even worse than the night I brought the girls back from the dead. Face dirty. Leaves and twigs and filth matted into my frizzy hair. Eyeliner and mascara gooped into the corners of my eyes.

At the top of the long driveway, I lean against the hearse. The black metal of the side door is cool against my pant legs. My body already aches where it whacked into trees and the ground. I pull out my phone, unsurprised to see a crack bisecting the screen. Even so, seeing the flaw in the glass brings a lump to my throat—phones aren’t cheap, and my parents struggled to make sure that my sisters and I had one with a decent plan. They’ll be furious when they see that I’ve marred mine. Why wasn’t I more careful?

A tear splashes onto the crack as I pull up Xander’s contact information. I can’t wait for him to answer a text. I press call.

“Mila,” he says after two rings. “What’s up—”

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