Cold Death Mary Stone (most read books TXT) 📖

bodies and biology in order to fool them. Do you breathe quick or slow when you’re asleep?”

Bethany only needed a moment to answer that question. “Slow!”

Her mama nodded. “That’s right. When they’re sleeping, adults breathe about once every five seconds. Children your age might breathe a little more often, but for the most part, it’s slow and steady. Now, give it a try. See if you can fake me out.”

Bethany giggled. Her mama was a little weird sometimes, but in the best possible way. Her friends at school had moms who taught them boring stuff, like how to play soccer, or the names of the presidents, or how to plant tomatoes, but her mom was so much cooler because she taught Bethany ways to survive a Zombie Apocalypse.

“Shhh, possums don’t giggle.” Mama poked her belly and made her giggle again before Bethany quieted and did her best possum imitation. She laid still on the couch, arms clamped to her sides and eyes squeezed shut so tight that her eyeballs wanted to pop out, and practiced breathing in and out on a count of five.

After two tries, her mama poked her again. “You look like you’re trying to poop.”

“Ew!”

When Bethany stopped shrieking with laughter, her mama grew serious. “Remember, sleep is about giving your mind and body a chance to relax, so if you want to fool someone, you need to relax all your muscles. Your arms, your legs, your fingers, your toes. Even your eyelids. Focus. Think about that feeling you get when you lay outside on a hot, sunny day, and you’re so relaxed that your body almost sinks into the ground while your mind drifts away.”

Bethany repeated the exercise two more times until Mama clapped. “Better, much better.” Once the lesson was done, she’d led Bethany to the kitchen and made them some microwave popcorn.

Another floorboard creaked, this one closer to the bed. Bethany’s heart pounded faster, but she couldn’t do anything about that, only her breathing.

Nice, deep, slow breaths.

And she tried, but this was so much harder than when she’d played the possum game with Mama. That had been pretend and fun.

This was for real, and somehow, her stupid muscles knew the difference. They kept trying to turn stiff, and her body wanted to shiver.

Her mama’s voice whispered in her head, urging her to try harder.

…Focus. Think about that feeling you get when you lay outside on a hot, sunny day…

So, she did. Bethany pictured a time when the nice couple before Mama took her to the beach for a long weekend. How, after she’d played in the waves and flopped all salty-wet onto the beach towel, the sun beat down on her skin, drying her in minutes and warming her from the outside in. She remembered the heat zapping her energy and turning her so lazy that she could have stayed there for hours, floating away like one of the kites flying over the waves.

Bethany relaxed her arms and legs, fingers and toes. Even her eyelids. She sank into the bed and tried to float away.

The only part of her body that moved was her chest as she breathed.

In…out. In…out.

Something tickled her cheek, and her heart jumped, but Bethany played possum. Even when she realized the tickle was the bad man dragging his fingers across her cheek.

Even when those same fingers smoothed back her hair.

She stayed very, very still, remembering her mama’s game. Remembering her classmate, who’d spent lunch telling them about her uncle the cop, who’d told her about the scary men in the world who liked to touch kids on parts of their bodies they shouldn’t touch, and how that was why adults always told kids not to talk to strangers or take candy from men in vans.

Bethany’s heart pounded so loud in her ears that she worried the bad man could hear it.

What if he was one of those types of scary men?

Warm sun. Relax. Float away.

The bad man stroked her cheek again, and Bethany’s hands itched to grab a washcloth and soap, to scrub his touch off her skin. He was so close now that she could smell minty toothpaste. She could feel him hovering inches from her face. Staring.

Her breath caught, but she remembered in time, exhaled slowly, and prayed.

Don’t let him be one of those kinds of bad men. I promise to be better. I’ll do my homework without whining and pick up my room. I’ll even eat broccoli, even though it tastes like dirty leaves.

When she prayed, Bethany dreamed of warm beaches and breathed.

In…out. In…out.

Time passed, and Bethany’s fear spiked. Why was he still here? Did he know that she was awake? Maybe this was one of the bad man’s tricks. He liked to play tricks on her.

She almost gave up and opened her eyes, but Mama’s voice wouldn’t let her.

Warm sun. Relax. Float away.

The floorboards creaked. First near Bethany’s bed, then farther away.

Yes! Finally!

The door squeaked, but as much as Bethany strained her ears, she didn’t hear it click shut. She wanted to peek but knew better. Her mama had taught her that too.

“Make sure you never stop playing possum too soon. Sometimes, the zombies will try to trick you and only pretend to leave, which means you need to keep pretending too. Always wait at least five minutes after you think they leave to open your eyes, and only if you don’t hear any noises. When you can’t use your eyes, your ears can be one of your best tools to save you.”

Mama knew more about this kind of stuff than anyone, so Bethany kept her eyes shut and her breathing deep. She played possum until the front door slammed, and an engine grumbled to life outside the window. Even after the car sputtered away, she held on to her act, too terrified to open her eyes in case the man was pretending too.

In…out. In…out.

The bad man always thought he was so smart and that Bethany was just a dumb kid. She let him think that because,