Alice in Zombieland(The first book in the White Rabbit Chronicles series)A novel by Gena Showalter
Dedication
First and foremost, I have to thank God. I became very sick after writing the first draft of this book. I couldnt work for several months; I was simply in too much pain. I began to seek the Lord, and He healed me. During this time, a whole new world for Alice opened up and I saw the places Id missed it. Creating this wonderland was challenging but one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.
Next I want to thank the students of Marlow High School in Oklahoma for having me over, and Leigh Heldermon, Kye, Joyce and Emmet Harrison, Sony Harrison, Vicki Tolbert, Mike Tolbert and Cathy Hazel for setting everything up. I also want to thank Jayson Brown, Justyn Brown, Autumn Jackson, Cassandra Howard, Allison Collins and Austin Tinney for staying after and chatting with me. I had a blast!
I have to give a huge shout-out to Lauren Floyd for reading the rough draft and giving me honest feedback. She helped me shape some of the character voices, and I will be forever grateful.
I have to give another huge shout-out to Jill Monroe, Roxanne St. Claire, Louisa Edwards, Kristen Painter and Candace Havens, five amazingly talented and beautifully gorgeous ladies. (Yes, I said beautifully gorgeous.) I attended a writers conference with these jewels and it was one of the best weekends of my life. Ill never forget the food, the conversations and the love.
I must thank the people in my life who have to deal with me on a daily basis. Max, Roy Showtime, Torrence Vee Merryweather, Haden Tolbert, Seth Tolbert, Chloe Tolbert, Nate and Meg Hurt, Parks and Finn Quine, Shane and Kemmie Tolbert, Christy James, Auston and Casey Dowling, David and Paula Dowling, Shonna and Kyle Hurt, Michelle and Cody Quine, Matt and Jennifer Showalter, Michael Showalter, Pennye and Terry Edwards, Mark and Cindy Watley, Mom and Dad, and Kresley and Swede Cole. (They are all beautifully gorgeous, too!)
And this dedication would not be complete without mentioning the awesome, the incredible, the truly spectacular Natashya Wilson. Her keen insight never fails to amaze me. She went over this book as many times as I did, and went above and beyond the call of duty. You are heaven-sent!
A Note from Alice
Had anyone told me that my entire life would change course between one heartbeat and the next, I would have laughed. From blissful to tragic, innocent to ruined? Please.
But thats all it took. One heartbeat. A blink, a breath, a second, and everything I knew and loved was gone.
My name is Alice Bell, and on the night of my sixteenth birthday I lost the mother I loved, the sister I adored and the father I never understood until it was too late. Until that heartbeat when my entire world collapsed and a new one took shape around me.
My father was right. Monsters walk among us.
At night, these living dead, thesezombiesrise from their graves, and they crave what they lost. Life. They will feed on you. They will infect you. And then they will kill you. If that happens, you will rise from your grave. Its an endless cycle, like a mouse running inside a barbed wheel, bleeding and dying as those sharp tips dig ever deeper, with no way to stop the lethal momentum.
These zombies feel no fear, know no pain, but they hunger. Oh, do they hunger. Theres only one way to stop thembut I cant tell you how. Youll have to be shown. What I can tell you is that we must fight the zombies to disable them. To fight them, we must get close to them. To get close to them, we must be a little brave and a whole lot crazy.
But you know what? Id rather the world considered me crazy while I go down fighting than spend the rest of my life hiding from the truth. Zombies are real. Theyre out there.
If you arent vigilant, theyll get you, too.
So. Yeah. I should have listened to my father. He warned me over and over again never to go out at night, never to venture into a cemetery and never, under any circumstances, to trust someone who wants you to do either. He should have taken his own advice, because he trusted meand I convinced him to do both.
I wish I could go back and do a thousand things differently. Id tell my sister no. Id never beg my mother to talk to my dad. Id stop my tears from falling. Id zip my lips and swallow those hateful words. Or, barring all of that, Id hug my sister, my mom and my dad one last time. Id tell them I love them.
I wishyeah, I wish.
1Down the Zombie Hole
Six months ago
Please, Alice. Please.
I lay sprawled on a blanket in my backyard, weaving a daisy chain for my little sister. The sun shone brightly as puffy white clouds ghosted across an endless expanse of baby blue. As I breathed in the thick honeysuckle and lavender perfume of the Alabama summer, I could make out a few shapes. A long, leggy caterpillar. A butterfly with one of its wings shredded. A fat white rabbit, racing toward a tree.
Eight-year-old Emma danced around me. She wore a glittery pink ballerina costume, her pigtails bouncing with her every movement. She was a miniature version of our mother and the complete opposite of me.
Both possessed a slick fall of dark hair and beautifully uptilted golden eyes. Mom was short, barely over five-three, and I wasnt sure Em would even make it to five-one. Me? I had wavy white-blond hair, big blue eyes and legs that stretched for miles. At five-ten, I was taller than most of the boys at my school and always stood outI couldnt go anywhere without getting a few what-are-you-a-giraffe? stares.
Boys had never shown an interest in me, but I couldnt count the number of times I had caught one drooling over my mom as she walked by orgagheard one whistle as she bent over to pick something up.
Al-less. At my side now, Em stomped her slippered foot in a bid for my attention. Are you even listening to me?
Sweetie, weve gone over this, like, a thousand times. Your recital might start while its sunny out, but itll end at dark. You know Dad will never let us leave the house. And Mom agreed to sign you up for the program as long as you swore never to throw a tantrum when you couldnt make a practice or a, what? Recital.
She stepped over me and planted those dainty pink slippers at my shoulders, her slight body throwing a large enough shadow to shield my face from the overhead glare. She became all that I could see, shimmering gold pleading down at me. Todays your birthday, and I know, I know, I forgot this morningand this afternoonbut last week I remembered that it was coming upyou remember how I told Mom, right?and now Ive remembered again, so doesnt that count for something? Course it does, she added before I could say anything. Daddy has to do whatever you ask. So, if you ask him to let us go, andand so much longing in her tone and ask if hell come and watch me, too, then he will.
My birthday. Yeah. My parents had forgotten, too. Again. Unlike Em, they hadnt rememberedand wouldnt. Last year, my dad had been a little too busy throwing back shots of single malt and mumbling about monsters only he could see and my mom had been a little too busy cleaning up his mess. As always.
This year, Mom had hidden notes in drawers to remind herself (Id found them), and as Em had claimed, my baby sis had even hinted before flat out saying, Hey, Alices birthday is coming up and I think she deserves a party! but Id woken up this morning to the same old same old. Nothing had changed.
Whatever. I was a year older, finally sweet sixteen, but my life was still the same. Honestly, it wasnt a big deal. Id stopped caring a long time ago.
Em, though, she cared. She wanted what Id never had: their undivided attention.
Since todays my birthday, shouldnt you be doing something for me? I asked, hoping to tease her into forgetting about her first ballet performance and the princess role she liked to say she had been born to perform.
She fisted her hands on her hips, all innocence and indignation and, well, my favorite thing in the entire world. Hello! Letting you do this for me is my gift to you.
I tried not to grin. Is that so?
Yeah, because I know you want to watch me so badly youre practically foaming at the mouth.
Brat. But like I could really argue with her logic. I did want to watch her.
I remember the night Emma was born. A wild mix of fear and elation had seared the memory into my mind. Just like my parents had done with me, they had opted to use a midwife who made house calls so that, when the big moment arrived, Mom wouldnt have to leave home.
But even that plan had failed.
The sun had already set by the time her contractions started and my dad had refused to open the door to the midwife, too afraid a monster would follow her in.
So, Dad had delivered Emma while my mom nearly screamed us all to death. I had hidden under my covers, crying and shaking because Id been so afraid.
When everything had finally quieted, Id snuck into their bedroom to make sure everyone had survived. Dad bustled about while Mom lounged on the bed. Tentative steps had taken me to the edge, and, to be honest, Id gasped in horror. Baby Emma had not been attractive. Shed been red and wrinkly, with the most hideous dark hair on her ears. (Im happy to say the hair has since been shed.) Mom had been all smiles as she waved me over to hold my new best friend.
Id settled beside her, pillows fluffing behind me, and shed placed the wiggly bundle in my arms. Eyes so beautiful only God Himself could have created them had peered up at me, rosy lips puckering and tiny fists waving.
What should we name her? Mom had asked.
When short, chubby fingers had wrapped around one of mine, skin soft and warm, Id decided that hair on the ears wasnt such a terrible thing, after all. Lily, Id replied. We should name her Lily. I had a book all about flowers, and the lilies were my favorites.
My moms soft chuckle had washed over me. I like that. How about Emmaline Lily Bell, since Nanas real name is Emmaline and itd be nice to honor my mother the way we honored your dads when you were born. We can call our little miracle Emma for short, and the three of us will share a wonderful secret. Youre my Alice Rose and shes my Emma Lily, and together the two of you are my perfect bouquet.
I hadnt needed time to think about that. Okay. Deal!
Emma had gurgled, and Id taken that as approval.
Alice Rose, Emma said now. Youre lost in your head again, when Ive never needed you more.
All right, fine, I said on a sigh. I just couldnt deny her. Never had, never would. Im not talking to Dad, though. Im talking to Mom and making her talk to him.
The first sparkle of hope ignited. Really?
Yes, really.
A brilliant smile bloomed, and her bouncing started up again. Please, Alice. You gotta talk to her now. I dont want to be late, and if Dad agrees well need to leave soon so I can warm up on stage with the other girls. Please. Nooow.
I sat up and placed the daisies around her neck. You know the likelihood of success is pretty low, right?
A cardinal rule in the Bell household: you did not leave the house if you couldnt return before dark. Here, Dad had worked up reinforcements against the monsters, ensuring none of them could get in. After dark, well, you stayed put. Anyone out in the big bad world was without any type of protection and considered open season.
My fathers paranoia and delusion had caused me to miss numerous school activities and countless sporting events. Id never even been on a date. Yes, I could have gone on a weekend lunch date and other craptasticly lame things like that, but honestly? I had no desire for a boyfriend. I never wanted to have to explain that my dad was certifiable, or that he sometimes locked us in the special basement hed built as added protection from a boogeyman that did not exist. Yeah, just peachy.
Em threw her arms around me. You can do it, I know you can. You can do anything!
Her faith in meso humbling. Ill do my best.
Your best is Oh, ick! Face scrunched with horror, she jumped as far away from me as she could get. Youre all gross and wet, and you made me all gross and wet.
Laughing, I lunged for her. She squealed and darted off. Id run the hose over myself about half an hour ago, hoping to cool down. Not that Id tell her. The fun of sibling torture, and all that.
Stay out here, okay? Mom would say something that would hurt her feelings, and Id say something to make her feel bad for asking me to do this, and shed cry. I hated when she cried.
Sure, sure, she said, palms up in a gesture of innocence.
Like I was buying that hasty assurance. She planned to follow me and listen, no question. Girl was devious like that. Promise me.
I cant believe youd doubt me. A delicate hand fluttered over her heart. That hurts, Alice. That really hurts.
First, major congrats. Your acting has improved tremendously, I said with a round of applause. Second, say the words or Ill return to working on a tan Ill never achieve.
Grinning, she rose on her toes, stretched out her arms and slowly spun on one leg. The sun chose that moment to toss out an amber ray, creating the perfect spotlight for her perfect pirouette. Okay, okay. I promise. Happy now?
Sublimely. She might be devious, but she never broke a promise.
Watch me pretend I know what that means.
It meansoh, never mind. I was stalling, and I knew it. Im going.
With all the enthusiasm of a firing squad candidate, I stood and turned toward our house, a two-story my dad had built in the prime of his construction days, with brown brick on the bottom and brown-and-white-striped wood on the top. Kind of boxy, amazingly average and absolutely, one hundred percent forgettable. But then, thats what hed been going for, hed said.
My flip-flops clapped against the ground, creating a mantra inside my head. Dont. Fail. Dont. Fail. Finally I stood at the glass doors that led to our kitchen and spotted my mom, bustling from the sink to the stove and back again. I watched her, a bit sick to my stomach.