Clicks take over the airway as I let out a shout and lunge forward, claws outstretched. I smell the venom in his mouth as he steps forward, ready to take me head-on.

Then, suddenly, I'm on the floor.

Cement bites into my elbows and knees as a prickly sensation pulses through my neck.

"Who's the coward now?" I hear Raquel mutter through the crowd that's formed. Was she saying that to me?

I can just see her with her judgmental brown eyes and that eternal frown on her ever-loving face. The only time she smiles is if it's to smirk at my suffering.

I steal a glance behind me, wanting to find her, but all I see are feet as I return to my normal form.

The zombie is yanked back by Rick, the solid wall of a man. He looks like some kind of wrestler. He has a military cut and always wears clothes that look two sizes too small. His biceps are the size of my head.

The stuff that was on the dart makes my body feel numb, and I place my head down on the cement, refusing to feel embarrassed.

"If you want us to help you, you won't go around starting fights with people."

A boot kicks my shoulder and I groan.

"Mikey, get up." There's a slight pause as I stifle the toxins on my tongue, and she regards the zombie boy. "I take it she's the one who turned you."

I stand, coughing as I pluck the dart from my neck, beaming sadistically. "You'd guess right." I stagger to the left, leering in the zombie's direction. "And he's the one that 'killed' me."

Tanya looks from me to the boy before going into clean-up mode. "All right, everyone, back to what you were doing. There's nothing to see here."

Eventually, people clear out. I can hear everything they're saying, and it's nothing good. But they know me. And they expected something like this.

Tanya comes close to me, grabbing my arm as gently as she can in this situation. "Go get yourself cleaned up. You've made enough of a mess."

She releases me and strides back over to the boy. I glare as she moves away, but my chest hollows out, the void filled with only pain. What does she expect from me? He tried to kill me, and he ruined my career. I deserve the right to rough him up, don't I?

"Well. Now that you've got that out of your system, let's go get you smelling like a zombie should."

I watch them walk away.

"Great show, Mikey. Maybe the insane asylum will let you fight their patients."

I snap around to come face-to-face with Raquel, her arms folded across her chest. Without thinking, I throw the dart at her.

It sails over her head.

"You're the stupidest person I've ever met," she mutters as she kicks her hip out and walks away.

~

"You're the stupid one," I mutter to no one as I swing my feet back and forth. The ground is way below me, the scent of rot wafting through the air as the volunteers below set out the clothes the Mindless zombies were wearing. The scent masks humanism rather well.

"You gonna come down and help?"

I meet the eyes of Tanya, who blocks the sunlight with one hand.

"Nope," I shout back. "I can't make a mess in a tree."

Tanya frowns. "Get your butt down here."

Make me, I want to snap, but I don't. I push off and land, hearing tendons snap and reform as I stand. "Tada."

She's unamused. "Take a few of these to Maverick. He said they were running low."

She hands me a bag filled with donated, and stolen, blood bags and boxes.

"I've told him he could just get some from the store—"

"It's genetically modified," Tanya interrupts. "He doesn't want all of that in his body." She pauses. "He's told you how old he really is, right?"

Offended that she'd even ask that, I sputter an, "Of course," as I grab the bag, but he really hasn't. He doesn't like when I pry.

"Then you should know that's the last thing he should be putting in his body."

"Yeah, okay," I exhale. "Bye, then."

As I turn to walk away, she prompts me to wait. Holding in a groan, I glance over my shoulder.

"That boy's name was Zeke Mahelona. He's your new best friend, got it?"

I cock an eyebrow. "Seriously? It's not my fault he can't—"

"Got it?" she drills.

With a sigh, I nod. "Got it."

"He is your responsibility. Anything he does—"

"Will come down on my head. That's crystal clear."

"Make sure he's eating—"

"Frick, what is he, a dog?" I spit. "I can take care of it."

She watches me with parental disdain and shakes her head. "Be careful. The both of you. If you need anything, we're here."

My fingers clench around the bag. She's never said that to me. This is only because of him, isn't it? Because she likes him. She sympathizes with him. But not me. I'm annoying and brash and uncontrollable. Unpredictable.

She hates me.

And that kills me.

"Okay," I say, relenting as a knot forms in my throat. "I'll watch over him. We'll be attached at the hip."

She gives me a warm smile, and the pain and guilt grow. "Thank you, Mikey. I'm sure he'll be grateful to have you show him the ropes. I believe in you. Good luck."

With another stiff nod, I swallow hard. "Thanks, but I don't need luck." Fein confidence. Like always. Don't let the cracks show. "He'll fall in love with me on the spot and we'll live happily ever after because of my winning personality."

Tanya's slight laugh falls on deaf ears as I turn to journey back into the wastelands, pretending to be okay.

Always pretending.