THE ZOMBIE PLAYGROUND

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Brin and Anaya were neck and neck after five holes. It wasn’t so much a competition between the two of them as it was a fight to the death. Anaya had already thrown her club into the air twice, a no-no on the high school team but merely frowned upon out here on the desolate course. Brin was ahead by two when she sliced a shot into a sand trap on the fourth hole and spent a few minutes and three extra shots trying to find her way out of the muddy dirt. Anaya sunk a long bogey putt on the short par-three fifth hole, and by the time they both approached the sixth hole, they had the same score—two over par.

“Almost halfway done, and all tied up,” Anaya said. “You gonna choke now, or you gonna choke later?”

“That year of free golf is mine,” Brin said.

“No way in hell, bitch! It’s gonna be mine, all mine!”

“But it would be impossible with you, Anaya! Free food and drinks for a year?”

“Yeah, so?”

Brin almost said it; she almost wanted to get cruel and brash. But she grabbed her driver and stepped up to the tee box. She figured it was best not to stoop to Colin’s level.

“Hey, hey,” Anaya said, pushing past Brin, “I believe it’s my honor.”

“We tied on the last hole.”

“Yeah, and I beat you on the hole before that. So technically, the honor is still mine.”

“Oh, come on. Enough with these stupid rules.”

“Nope! The rules must be abided by!”

Brin and Anaya stopped their yacking and turned to the tee box to see Tristan take his stance. He already had his ball teed up, a driver in his hand. He smiled at the ladies.

“Did you guys forget?” he said. “I outscored all of you on the last hole!”

Anaya kicked Brin’s driver away. “Whatever.”

Tristan, only fourteen but still holding his own among the other players, smashed the ball down the middle of the fairway. Brin decided to step aside and let Anaya go next, and she watched with enthusiasm as Anaya’s ball took a bad slice and landed in the tall rough on the right.

Brin turned to Colin, whose joyful visage from before the tournament had transformed into one of a sad, lonely hobo. “What’d you get on the last hole?”

“I don’t know. A seven I think.”

She glared at him. “A seven? Are you high?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t be like how my grandpa was. Score a twelve and then say you got a rotten six. Take it like a man.”

“I got a seven.”

“You hit two balls in the water. That means you were lying four before you even hit your first shot. It took you six shots to get the ball in the hole. Four plus six is ten, last time I checked.”

“Shut up! I got a seven!”

“Do you want me to go back to the last hole and prove it to you?”

“Hey!” Anaya shouted from the cart path. “Come on and hit, Brin! We don’t have all day!”

Brin walked up to the tee box and found her proper stance. This was the longest hole on the front nine. She had to swing with more power on this tricky shot than on any other. She sped her way through a trio of practice swings, then pulled the driver way up over her shoulders and swung hard at the ball.