Chapter 17

It struck him hard in the chest and knocked him down. Rolling with it, he came to his feet, ready to fight, even though his shoulder was throbbing again. Dang, would it never stop hurting?

His stomach knotted as he recognized Stone. At first, he thought Stone was a zombie, but as he looked at him, he realized he was ...

As normal as Stone could be. Which really wasn't saying much.

"What are you doing?" Nick had to force himself to stop there and not let fly the particularly nasty insult that was stinging his tongue. But he wouldn't give Stone the satisfaction of letting him know how rattled he'd made him.

Stone laughed, shoving Nick back. "Did I scare you, little girl?"

All right, gloves off. "You're such an epic dork."

Stone grabbed him in a grip so fierce it didn't seem human. "I'm going to make you eat those words, Gautier. Along with your teeth."

Nick tried to break free. Stone increased the pressure on his neck until his vision dulled and his ears buzzed. What kind of Vulcan, kung fu death grip was he using? Nick was like a puppy someone had grabbed by the scruff of his neck. His body had just gone limp and he couldn't do anything other than dangle in Stone's grip.

It was highly embarrassing and it seriously pissed him off.

"Let him go, Stone. Now."

Stone's grip tightened as Caleb Malphas stepped out of the shadows. The quarterback and star of their high school football team, Caleb had all the power and popularity Stone craved.

And luckily none of Stone's stupidity or cruelty.

Stone shoved Nick away. "I was just having fun with him."

Caleb's dark hair was brushed back from his face, showing just how perfect his features really were as he eyed Stone with malice. "Really? Well, why don't you run along before I decide to have some fun with you?"

Stone's gaze narrowed. "We're not at school, Malphas. I'm not the same person out here that I am there."

Caleb invaded his personal space. He stood so close that their noses were almost touching. "Neither am I, Blakemoor. Trust me, the animal in you is no match for the demon in me. Now move along before I give you a taste of what I can do to you without the football pads to dull my blows."

Curling his lip, Stone blinked and stepped back. He raked a sneer over Nick that promised him another round whenever Caleb wasn't here to interfere. "You're not worth getting my knuckles busted anyway."

With one last sullen glare, he put his hands in his pockets and crossed the street.

Nick glared at the punk. "You better be glad my arm's in a sling. Otherwise, you'd be missing some teeth ... buttmunch."

"Is that the best insult you can deal?"

Nick turned his fury toward Caleb. "You want a taste of it?"

Caleb laughed. "I like your spirit, Gautier. It's a shame you're not still on my team."

Nick scowled as he sensed Caleb meant something other than football. "What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to Triple B. It's almost time for Mark and Bubba's class on Zombie Defense and Execution. It's the most entertaining thing since that time Stone set himself on fire in chem class."

Nick laughed at the memory. Stone had been trying to show off for Casey when he knocked over a beaker full of something highly flammable that had exploded and ignited his sleeve. Unfortunately, Ms. Wilkins had been fast with the fire extinguisher and all Stone had lost were his eyebrows and some dignity.

Half the class had been rooting for a Freddie Kruegering of Stone, but luck hadn't been on their side and he'd survived to continue being a waking nightmare for all of them.

"You want to come along?" Caleb asked him.

As much fun as it sounded, he hesitated. "I'm supposed to head back to my mom's job." 'Cause she would absolutely kill him if he didn't.

"And miss Bubba's Zombie Roadkill Recipes? C'mon, Nick, you know you have to see this. It's must-view entertainment on an infinite scale of epic awesomeness." Caleb pulled out his phone and handed it to him. "Give her a shout and ask her if you can go."

Nick wasn't so sure about this. Caleb hadn't exactly been overly friendly to him these last few years. In fact, he'd basically ignored him.

So why would he care if he went or not? Unless this was a trick moment like when the cool guy asked Carrie White to the prom just so they could drench her in blood and laugh at her.

Yeah, I'd look stupid in a prom dress. Worse, he didn't have the psychic powers to attack them back.

Caleb frowned at him. "What are you waiting for?"

Lightning to strike him, 'cause let's face it, that was much more likely to happen than the most popular guy at school inviting him to watch an infamous Bubbisode.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

A sly grin curled Caleb's lips. "My enemy's enemy is my friend."

"Who's your enemy?"

Caleb shrugged. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you ... and I know what you're thinking. How can a guy as popular as me have any enemies or problems, right?"

Yeah, basically. "I haven't noticed you being slammed into anyone's locker lately."

"That's because you're not around me all the time. Trust me. Life's not easy for anyone. Everyone has scars they're afraid to show and we all get slammed headfirst into a proverbial locker from time to time by someone bigger and badder."

Riiight. He was more than sure that Caleb's idea of a bad day was no match for his. "What? Your parents ground you for driving your mom's new car or did you forget to tell the maid to pick up your room?"

Caleb didn't respond to his sarcasm. "You going to call your mom or not? No real sweat off my nose, one way or another. I'm just trying to be neighborly."

/ swear if I get drenched in pig's blood, I'm going after you with an ax. Taking the phone from Caleb's hand, Nick punched in the number at the club.

Tiffany answered on the sixth ring.

"Hey Tiff, it's Nick. Is my mom nearby?"

"Sure, sug, hang on."

While Nick waited on his mom to get to the phone, Caleb went to stare into one of the store windows. He still wasn't sure why Caleb was willing to do this. Even though he knew Caleb, they'd never hung out before. Caleb had transferred into school not long after Nick had and though they'd had many classes together, Caleb hadn't really spoken to him in school except on rare occasions. Such as to tell him to move his punk butt out of the way so Caleb could get to his locker.

An extreme loner in spite of being popular and playing on the football team, Caleb ignored most people. No one knew much about him. He never talked about his home life or parents. If anyone ever asked a question about it, he changed topics. But it was obvious from his clothes and bearing that his parents had more cash than most, and the rumors around school said his dad was one of the richest guys in town.

Of course rumors also claimed Caleb was an ex-con who'd learned to play football in juvy. One rumor even claimed he'd killed his dad and then sold his liver on the black market.

Given what Caleb had said a minute ago, Nick figured it must be bleak at his house. Why else would a guy with his kind of looks, money, and popularity be wandering the streets on his way to see two lunatics give lessons on fighting off nonexistent creatures?

Then again ... after all that'd happened today, zombies weren't so fictional after all.

"Nick? Are you all right?" his mom asked as she came to the phone.

"I'm fine. I'm just a couple of blocks away. I dropped off Liza and met a friend from school on the street—"

"Hi, Ms. Gautier," Caleb called into the phone.

Nick ignored him. "It's Caleb Malphas. He wanted to know if I could go with him to Bubba's store and attend one of Bubba's classes."

"Oh Lord, what's he teaching tonight?"

"Zombie survival."

His mom let out a tired sigh. "Is he going to have dynamite there again?"

"I doubt it. The ATF was pretty strict after the last incident. Anytime the authorities step in, Bubba usually lays low for a while."

'And how long is it going to last?" she asked.

He looked at Caleb. "How long is it?"

Caleb flashed a mischievous grin. "It's supposed to be an hour, but usually Bubba or Mark has a serious injury about thirty minutes in and we have to break for a hospital run. Sometimes they come back if they can get in and out of the emergency room fast enough or the burns aren't too bad. Most times it ends early. I'd tell her an hour though 'cause we need to factor in the time it takes to stop laughing so hard we can walk again."

The sad thing was, Caleb wasn't joking. "About an hour, Ma.

"And you won't be alone?"

"No, ma'am. Caleb's with me and he's a good-sized guy." "How old is he?"

Nick clenched his teeth in frustration. Why did he have to play this game with her all the time when it was only a matter of a simple yes or no? Dang, his mom should have been a lawyer. "How old are you?"

Caleb paused as if he had to think about it. "Fifteen."

"Fifteen," Nick repeated into the phone.

"What do his parents do for a living?"

This time his temper snapped and he spoke before he could stop himself. "What does that matter?"

"It matters to me and if you want to go, I want an answer."

Nick rolled his eyes at the response that grated on his last nerve. "What do your parents do?"

There was a strange look on Caleb's face. When he spoke, his tone was completely stoic. "My dad's a broker and my mom is his eternal unwilling concubine who sold her soul to him to buy the equivalent of a Ferrari."

Nick let out a long breath. Caleb definitely had a way with words. "His dad's a stockbroker."

"His mom?"

"She's a housewife."

His mother hesitated before she continued grilling him. "Is he a good boy?"

"No, Mom, he's Satan incarnate. In fact, once it's over, we're going to get liquored up and tattooed, then find some cheap hos and have a good time with his trust fund."

Caleb laughed.

His mom, however, did not share that sense of humor. "Don't you take that tone with me, Nick Gautier. I'll ground you till you're old and gray. Now answer my question."