Ghost Town(18)

"Sure." She sighed. Shane bailed out and set off for the refreshment stand at the back. Claire got out her cell and texted Eve. R u ok? She got a reply back in seconds. Death by boring. College poseurs. Yak.

Eve always made her laugh. B safe, Claire texted back. Eve sent a picture of herself with her friend, who looked intimidated and scared and very much as if she was wishing herself gone. Eve was winking. The message with it said, Half an hour more tops. C u home.

The car door opened, and Shane climbed in, handing her a cup of Coke and a giant bag of popcorn, which she tried to figure out how to balance in her lap. The Cokes went into cup holders, at least, and before she could take a handful of the steaming popcorn, there was a sudden flicker of color out the front window, and the coming attractions started up.

Shane took the bag of popcorn from her, set it carefully in the backseat, and turned the radio down. "Hey," Claire protested. "How can we hear if--"

He leaned over and kissed her, and kept kissing her, and his lips were so hot and sweet and strong that she just felt herself melting against him. He eased her jacket off, and she didn't even think about objecting, because even though it was cold she felt warm, so warm, and then his hands were . . . Oh, that was good. Very good.

She wasn't thinking, not at all, not about anything except how incredible it felt to be with him, here, in the dark. When she finally came up for a gasping breath, most of her buttons were undone. All of his were undone. Did I do that? she wondered with a shock, because it really wasn't like her to be doing this out in public, where people could see.

But it felt like being alone. Deliciously, magically alone. Because they were in a crowd of people, but nobody was paying them the slightest bit of attention.

The movie had started, but she had zero idea what it was about, other than some crazy zombie guy stalking people. Oh, and there was a smart girl with glasses, and a hot guy who would probably survive, too. With the sound turned down to a whisper, she saw only flashes, and when she closed her eyes, she didn't see anything but sunbursts of light against the darkness.

"What's this?" Shane asked, and traced the line of her new bra with his fingertip. "Sexy. What else you got?"

"I'll give you a hint. It matches."

"Let's take a look. . . ."

Things were about to get very interesting--and she wasn't thinking about the movie at all--when her cell phone rang. Claire yelped and flailed around for it, mostly to shut it off, but Shane sat up, and she squirmed around to get to a sitting position, holding her shirt closed as she squinted at the display.

"It's Eve," she said. Shane smacked his forehead right into the steering wheel and made a sound of utter frustration. "Should I get it?"

"Yeah," he said, not too happily. "I guess so. But tell her I hate her a whole lot right now."

"You don't."

"Oh, trust me. I could not hate her more."

Claire pressed the button and said, "Eve? Shane says--" She was interrupted by the sound of screaming. It was so loud and shocking that she almost dropped the phone. "Eve? Eve!"

Shane caught the alarm in her tone, and reached out for the phone. "Give," he said. She handed it over, shaking, and he put it to his ear. "Eve? Eve, can you hear me? What's going on?" He stopped to listen, and gave Claire a look that made her shiver again. "Yeah, I hear it. Are you safe?"

"Speaker!" Claire said. "Put it on speaker!"

He did. Screaming blasted out of the phone, but it wasn't Eve's; she was trying to talk. Only part of it came through. " . . . Define safe. . . . trying to get . . . crazy . . . need help--"

"Hang on, Eve. We're coming," Shane said, and tossed the phone to Claire as he fired up the hearse's engine, slammed it into reverse, and backed up with a squeal of tires. "Try to get an address!"

"I know where it is," Claire said. She gave him the address, clear and sharp in her memory from the flyer she'd been handed days ago on the steps of the Science Building. "That's not far, right?"

"Not far," he agreed, and hit the gas, speeding toward the exit past rows of parked cars with fogged-over windows. "Keep her talking."

"Eve? Can you hear me?"

"Yes!" Eve's voice suddenly came through the background noise loud and clear. "We're okay for now, but we need backup, big-time."

"What's going on? Vampires?"

"Oh, you'd think, but no. Some jackass jocks started tearing up the place. They've been rampaging around through half the town. . . . Oh, shit!" There was a rise in screaming and confused sounds. When Eve came back, she was out of breath. " Now there're vamps. And they are pissed."

"Is Oliver there?"

"Didn't stop to read name tags. Oh, man--seriously not good here. People are dying--Cory! Cory, no, don't--Cory!" Eve's last word was a scream of utter horror, and then the phone just . . . died. Claire hung up and tried calling back. Eve's cheery voice mail took the call. She looked over at Shane, who was staring straight ahead with an expression as hard as stone. He shook his head.

"Hurry," Claire whispered. She realized her shirt was still open, and quickly buttoned it up with trembling hands. "Does Eve keep any weapons in here?"