Meilin and the Challenger Read online

  She’d make sure of it.

  ***

  The few seconds of silence following Will’s request were the longest he’d ever suffered. Bad enough to stand and be judged, but training his focus on Mr. King strained his self-discipline to the limit. Since arriving, all he’d wanted to do was look at Meilin. Was she glad to see him? Or did she wish he’d died last night? Or that he’d turned into a zombie so she could use him as target practice?

  He snapped to attention when Mr. King rose.

  “As mayor, I grant your request.” To Will, he said, “Follow me to my private chambers. Now.”

  Only when Mr. King stepped down did Will allow himself the slightest glance at Meilin. His chest tightened. The light of hope in her face, she watched him. Boo ya!

  The grand marshal gestured him in the direction of Mr. King’s departure. Will scrambled to catch up. To his surprise, the sisters trailed behind, and entered the meeting room after him.

  Zoe rushed to her father, seated at the large round table. “It’s a trick. Don’t allow this.”

  “A trick?” Mr. King appeared nonplussed. “What cause do you have to make such a claim, dearest Zoe?”

  “He never said how much debt his mother owed. And how do we know he won’t make more demands later?”

  A smile quirked Mr. King’s mouth. “So you’re sure he’ll succeed?”

  “No, I…” She scowled at Will.

  “You don’t like him. Fine. But he remains the Challenger.” Mr. King leaned back. “We must begin. Time is of the essence.”

  The image of restrained rage, Zoe eased a chair away from the table and slid onto it.

  Hell, he wouldn’t turn his back on that one. Steam practically shot from her ears, and knives from her eyes. Now Meilin, on the other hand, he’d gladly turn his back, front, whatever she wanted, except her enthusiasm had cooled after entering the smaller room. Formality for her father’s sake?

  Mr. King regarded him with coolness, too. “Mr. McGregor, the residents of City appreciate your selfless volunteering for this task. You’ll need to study the zombie colony to get a feel for what you’re up against, but better make it fast.”

  “I have, sir. For the past few months.” It helped erase the haunting dreams, of explosions, gunfire and his buddies’ screams. After he’d returned home, his mother’s desperation weighed on him, too. He couldn’t leave City until he’d resolved her financial situation.

  “Really.” King sounded unconvinced. “And what have you learned?”

  He’d keep it in simple terms. “The zombies tend to form packs, to live in a group and attack as a group. I believe they stay together for protection.”

  “Exactly. What else?”

  “A pack implies a leader, sir. I believe there’s a crude hierarchy of zombie life.” Which no one had ever taken the time to investigate – everyone else blasted away without learning a thing. Lucky for him; it would make his job less complicated, knowing he had a huge leap on everyone else. It definitely snagged the father’s attention.

  Mr. King’s tone sharpened. “Have you identified the leader?”

  “Not yet, sir. I believe he stays hidden and sends the others out to attack.”

  “An interesting development. If what you say is accurate.”

  “If my research is correct, the zombies in this area have evolved, sir, and the leader is highly intelligent.”

  “Oh bullshit.” Zoe spat the words.

  “Zoe,” Mr. King said sharply.

  Will raised a hand. “It’s all right, sir. I know it sounds crazy. But last night, I gained proof.”

  Tension thickened the air. The sisters watched him, some wide-eyed like Meilin, some more lethal, like Zoe. His daughters’ reactions didn’t escape Mr. King’s notice.

  Before the old man could ask, Will went on. “I ran into a few zombies last night. I thought I’d gotten away clean until a lone zombie came after me.”

  “One by itself?” Mr. King asked. “That’s highly unusual.”

  Will nodded. “A scout. Planted there to make sure their sweep of the area erased anyone lurking behind.”

  Mr. King nodded. “Which would imply forethought. Maybe there’s something to it.”

  “At least one is sentient enough to guide the rest. That’s the key – take out the queen zombie and disrupt the hive. After that, it’d be a quick clean-up.”

  Triumph showed in Zoe’s smirk. “You think their leader’s female?”

  “In my experience, women can be every bit as dangerous as men. More devious, sometimes.”

  Mr. King heaved a breath. “We’ve noted a disturbing trend. For the year, our old methods of passive extermination have failed.”

  “What sort of passive extermination?” He’d never heard of such a thing.

  “Brains of the newly dead left outside the city boundary,” Meilin explained. “With a little surprise ingredient – acid pellets.”

  Zoe pursed her lips. “Used to work like a charm. The zombies would gobble up the brains, the pellets would burst, enter their blood stream and into their own brains, and poof, goodbye zombie. Now they won’t touch it.”

  “Put a real cramp in your night life, huh?” Will held back a smirk, difficult when Zoe squirmed.

  Lakshme blinked innocent doe eyes. “We have no night life, Mr. McGregor. The zombies ended that long ago.”

  He wouldn’t give them away and tell Daddy about their midnight excursions. They must have their reasons for keeping it secret, though he couldn’t guess why. With their highly advanced techniques, they could have already eradicated the zombie population. Why wait for volunteers to step forward and make a show of doing the same, when they already held the capability?

  Until he knew the real reason, he’d trust none of them. Not even Meilin.

  Now that his tour of duty had ended overseas, Will committed himself to fighting on the home front. Where it mattered.

  But fighting without a strategy made no sense. Zombies had first emerged near City, but some had wandered to other areas, and forced other towns into isolation. He had to strike at the heart of the zombie population here, then use the experience to help prevent their further spread. If he lived through this.

  The war had given him something, at least, but it had also robbed him of other, more important things. After losing the woman he loved when he shipped out to a buddy at home, to losing friends in battle, he’d stopped caring about his own welfare.

  Maybe this new war would restore some of the lost bits of his soul.

  ***

  Before her father could dismiss them, Meilin blurted, “I want to help.”

  “Pardon?” He turned incredulous eyes to her.

  She summoned up courage to go on. “I said—”

  “I heard what you said, Meilin. Absolutely not.”

  “I’m well trained, Father. My skills are useless unless you allow me to apply them where they can be most effective.”

  His face hardened. “It’s against protocol.”

  “Screw protocol.” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but her father was obviously casting about for excuses.

  “Enough, Meilin,” he warned.

  If she had to resort to guilt, she would. “Don’t you have any faith in me?”

  “I won’t risk it.” He waved toward the door. “You girls are excused. I must speak with Mr. McGregor alone.”

  It couldn’t end here. “But –”

  Her father glared. “Now.”

  She pressed her lips together to prevent anything else from slipping out. The others rose and headed for the hall, so she did the same. The last to leave, she paused to glance back. Will watched with a mixture of surprise and admiration. Her father’s eyes held a silent warning, so she closed the door behind her.

  Zoe popped in front of her, a whispering banshee. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I gave nothing away about our projects.” She glanced around. A reporter and a few curious citizens remained, probably waiting to corner Will
and Father. “Not here.”

  “Fine.” Zoe grabbed her arm. “Everyone, to our room for a meeting.”

  Meilin jerked from her sister’s grasp. “Fine.”

  They strode in unison, a mass of seething purpose. Once inside their communal chamber, Zoe slammed the door. “Are you insane?”

  With difficulty, she maintained her composure. “You are the one exhibiting the traits of a looney tune, not me.”

  “You nearly blew it all.”

  Such a drama queen. “Father knows nothing. Not even you know everything.”

  Lakshme approached. “What does that mean?”

  Might as well tell them. “I conducted an informal test last night. Will’s alive because I used the spray on him.”

  Zoe threw up her hands. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  Her glare following her sister’s pacing, Meilin knew enough not to back down, or Zoe would never let her hear the end of it. “I couldn’t leave him there, unconscious and helpless. It would have been murder.”

  Dharma clapped her hands. “The spray worked! Oh, I could dance.”

  “Save it for tonight.” Meilin gave a sly smile. “When we test something else.”

  “Yes,” Lakshme said. “I’ll enter new coordinates for the zombie tracking system, and enter the latest variable – the zombie scout.”

  Ciara sighed. “Disturbing news, wasn’t it?”

  “It changes a lot.” Mireille had trouble believing it, but it made sense. And complicated everything.

  Zoe raised her hands. “Whoa, slow down. Who says we’re testing anything tonight?”

  To Meilin’s relief, Dharma said, “You said the pressure’s triple now.”

  Lakshme nodded. “Which means we mustn’t lose any more time.”

  Relief filled Meilin at her sisters’ support. “If Will’s right about the zombies having an intelligent leader, they could be planning an attack on the city.” Once said aloud, the thought chilled her; it made the threat all too real.

  Zoe regarded each sister. “All right. But it’s more important than ever to work together as a team. A silent team.” She glared at Meilin.

  “When we succeed, Father will praise us as his twelve zombie-killing princesses.” Meilin high-fived Dharma.

  “We’ll dance all night with no worries.”

  “Success will be sweet.” Especially if Will was her dance partner.

  ***

  The girls’ departure signaled the end of the meeting – or so Will thought. Ready for the final word from Mr. King, he sat, muscles coiled to spring from his chair.

  Instead, King waited for the door to click shut, then turned his studious gaze on Will. “Tell me everything you know.”

  He had a feeling the man no longer referred to zombies. “Sorry, what?”

  “You saw them last night, didn’t you?”

  Did King have spies? Or was he guessing? Had his parental instincts gone on high alert during the meeting? “Who, sir?”

  Mr. King pursed his lips. “My daughters. Don’t play games, son. If I think you’re harboring some secret, it won’t end well. For you.”

  The man had no clue, just feeling him out. He couldn’t reveal anything… yet. “Unless they were with other zombies elsewhere, sir, I did not.” The lie grated his gut; Will hated liars.

  Eyes narrowed, King studied him. “I want you to find out. You’ll stay in the room adjacent to theirs. Follow them tonight. I want to know everything you learn.”

  “What about the zombies?”

  The hint of a smile appeared. “Didn’t the military teach you to multi-task?”

  Great. So he’d pulled double duty. “Yes, sir.”

  “Report to my office tomorrow morning.” King rose and strode out.

  “Will do, sir.”

  But the man had already gone. Ah, hell. How was he supposed to find his room? “Sir?” He hurried into the hallway.

  A short woman approached, the skirt of her suit swishing. “Will McGregor.”

  “Yes?” He asked warily. He knew better than to underestimate anyone, even someone petite as this one. With her hair slicked back into a tight bun, she might unravel fast if provoked, and he wasn’t up to it.

  “Follow me.” She spun on her heel and marched to the stairs, her pace consistent floor after floor. At the third floor landing, she threw open the door and halted abruptly.

  Meilin waved her away. “Thanks, Lucy. I’ll take it from here.”

  Lucy’s mouth gaped, then snapped shut. “Very good.” She zipped around Will.

  Gaze riveted to him, Meilin said, “Oh, Lucy, one question – did Mr. McGregor ask you for any identification?”

  Lucy’s lips thinned. “No.”

  “Tsk tsk.” Meilin shook her head. “You broke Rule Number One. You’re lucky you’re still alive.”

  “Tell me about it.” He leaned close and whispered, “Especially after last night.”

  Her cheeks tinged a rosy hue, a lovely complement to her flawless skin. Head ducked, she gazed up at him. “You need a bath.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I didn’t have time for one in between fighting off zombies and making my way here on foot. Now if someone had offered me a ride…”

  “Sorry. Maybe next time.” She glanced behind him. “No bags?”

  “Nope. What I own, I’m wearing. It makes travel a breeze.”

  Something sparked in her face. So the girl had wander lust? Tough break, with the zombies. It gave him a new incentive to rectify the situation.

  She led him to a room. “The closet’s stocked with clothes. Take your pick.”

  “How did you know my size?” he teased.

  “We didn’t. Father ordered a set in each size. Plenty of men have used them, but don’t worry – none of the clothes are used.”

  “How so?” He already knew the answer. Since they’d instituted this medieval Challenger bit, too many people had taken up the mission.

  She said sweetly, “The men don’t return them.”

  “Ah. Because they never come back. I get it. You’re trying to scare me.”

  “No.” She turned serious, and took a sudden interest in the carpet. “I want you to know what you’re up against. You could still back out.”

  “No way. Why should I?” He teased, “Are you worried about me?”

  She searched his face. “Only worried you’ll fail, and put us in greater danger.”

  Hm, she wasn’t kidding. Maybe he should lighten the mood a bit. He stepped nearer. “The only danger I see is right in front of me.”

  “Ha! Don’t forget it, either.”

  Could she be any more adorable? “Hey, the zombie king himself could shuffle up, ready to eat my brains, but I’d be staring at you and miss it.”

  Any trace of humor left her. “Look, soldier. Don’t use lame pickup lines on me. I’m not some bimbo in a club.”

  Wow, he hadn’t expected that. “No, I—”

  “I’m not out to get married, or looking for a one-night stand. I’ve turned down politicians, men of science, and heads of corporations. I’m not wired for long-term mating, and I have no intention of settling down.”

  Hard to tell whether she was arguing with herself, or with him? “Great.” He’d meant to reassure her, but it only irritated her more.

  The flush of anger brightened her face. “I haven’t had the chance to live my own life yet, to define myself.”

  “I get it.” Neither had he. Until now, he’d dedicated his life to school, then the military. He hungered for freedom, the chance to travel the world and explore. Along the way, he’d annihilate as many zombies as possible – the only way to ensure safe passage for everyone.

  She pointed at him. “So don’t get any ideas about trying to make me conform to your wants and needs.”

  He affected a stoic expression. “Never.”

  She winced. “You should have been a politician. You say whatever people expect to hear, don’t you?”

  Maybe he had in the past. No mo
re. He had just begun to define himself, too. “No, I don’t. But I wonder if you say whatever it takes to provoke people.”

  She sighed. “Oh, please.”

  “No, I think you like to argue.”

  Her mouth quirked into a grin. “I enjoy a lively exchange of ideas.”

  He’d nailed it, then. “I know your game. You want me to bare my soul, but don’t want to get too close.”

  “You’re full of it.”

  He eased closer. “No, I think it’s great. You’ll keep me honest. I need someone like you.”

  She regarded him as one might a poisonous spider. “I don’t need anyone. Neither do you, I bet.”

  He dared to close the gap between them. “Are you sure?”

  One finger at his chest, she kept him at bay. “Like I said, you need a bath. In there.” She jerked her head toward a door.

  “I could use someone to scrub those hard-to-reach places.” Imagining her sweet hands all over him made him painfully hard.

  All sweetness, she smiled up at him. “Want me to call Lucy? Or maybe Zoe?”

  His grin faded. “No. I hoped you might volunteer.”

  “I don’t like to get attached to any Challenger. They have a tendency not to hang around very long.”

  “I plan to be the exception to the rule.” He tried not to think about the ones before him who hadn’t made it back. Poor bastards.

  “I hope so.” She sashayed to the door. “Bye.”

  “Hey, Meilin?” When she turned, he said, “Thanks.”

  She waved away his gratitude. “No problem. Just filling in for Lucy.”

  “No, I mean for last night. You know, saving my life. What was that spray, anyway?”

  Alarm erased her smile. “Never speak of it.”

  Why the hell not? “Can I get some to use tonight?”

  “Maybe. We’ll see.” She slipped out of the room.

  Frowning, he waited to see if she’d return. After a few minutes, he headed for the bathroom. A nice, hot shower – a real luxury, these days. He stripped as the water warmed, then stepped in. Ahhh. Next time, he’d soak in the tub.