White Trash Zombie Apocalypse

He blinked and lowered the gun, questions still crowding thick and close behind his eyes.



“Kyle got tranqed,” Heather said from somewhere behind me. “One target zombie down, tranqed. The other down and injured.” A touch of satisfaction tinged her voice. Roland was the first one, tranqed by Saberton Dude. But the “other” was Tim. I had no doubt she’d found a way to break him enough that he couldn’t get up and cause trouble. “Got a dead Saberton man there and another down with broken face and hand, and the extras are still a bit crazy but more coherent now,” she added.



Brian gave a sharp nod. “Good. Keep the Saberton man down until we’re ready to withdraw,” he said, then paused as though considering. “And make sure he gets a good look at you.”



Now, that was interesting. Brian obviously wanted Heather’s brother to know for sure she was working with us. I’d have to ponder the reasons for that later.



“Dan,” Brian continued, “get Kyle to the van, and then you and Rachel see if you can secure the other two downed zombies. Minimal risk. Our priority is here.” He gave a chin nod toward Philip and me, then frowned at the distant sound of sirens. “Quickly.”



A shudder went through Philip, but I sensed that it was from agony rather than the out-of-control frenzy state of earlier.



“Oh god…oh god…kill me.” The words tumbled out of him in cracked and pain-filled sounds. “No more…please.”



My low growl shifted to a trilling hum. Very carefully and cautiously, I eased the pressure on the bite. Brian took a step closer and crouched.



“Angel,” he said quietly. “We need to leave before the authorities arrive. Do you think you can get him to my vehicle?”



I gave a slight nod, then released the bite completely and began to lick the wound. I knew it should have been weird and gross as all hell, but it wasn’t. It was right. I tried not to think too much about that.



A moaning sob caught in Philip’s throat. “Done…can’t take it anymore…kill me.”



“Trust me,” I murmured, continuing to lick the bite, though totally ready to clamp down again if he started to freak out. “I’ll take care of you.”



He bowed his head and went still except for a heavy, generalized shaking. Taking that as consent, I slowly unwrapped my legs from him, though I still kept hold with my arms. “C’mon,” I said as I gently tugged to get him to stand. “I won’t leave you.”



Brian straightened, swept his gaze around to check on the progress of his people. Apparently he was pleased with their results because he returned his attention to us. “All right, Angel,” he said, still outwardly calm, but I heard a hint of an edge in his voice. “Everyone else is in the van, and we need to go before the police get here.”



Philip stood, swayed slightly while I kept an arm around his waist. His gaze rested on Brian, and he growled, but subsided when I smacked him on the chest.



“Behave,” I ordered. “You have to trust me.”



A tremor shook him, and I bared my teeth up at him. I knew we had to look pretty damn ridiculous. Philip was at least a foot taller and weighed about twice as much as me, but he allowed me to steer him in the direction Brian indicated, though he maintained an audible growl as we moved.



By the time we reached Brian’s Escalade, Philip’s growl had begun to develop the wet rasp that told me lung tissue was beginning to break down. I got him into the back seat, buckled him in like a kid, then slipped an arm around his waist and draped a leg over his, maintaining as much contact with him as possible. Then I fished another bag of slushy brains out of my pocket and held it for my great big zombie-kid to eat as Brian drove us away from the school.



I lost my virginity on the football field of East St. Edwards High School, and had been kidnapped from that same place years later. And now I’d just been in the thick of a crazed zombie mob on the Tucker Point High football field. Might be best for everyone if I avoided football in general from now on.



Chapter 24



I expected Brian to head to the same lab I’d visited the other day, where I’d seen Kang’s head and met Dr. Nikas, but instead he stopped after about two minutes of driving and pulled up to a loading dock behind an old brick warehouse. It bugged me that the area looked familiar, and it wasn’t until I caught sight of the battered sign by the street that I realized we were on the back end of the building I’d followed Philip to last night, where he’d begged Charish for brains. Damn good thing we’d come here instead of the other lab. I didn’t think Philip could tolerate a long drive, and apparently Brian thought the same.



Brian parked and came around to open the rear passenger door as I finished stuffing the last of the brains into Philip’s mouth.



“Let’s go, Philip,” I said. “We’re going inside. We’ll fix you up.”



He managed a tight nod, pain flashing across his face from even that small movement. I quickly unbuckled him, then helped him out of the SUV with Brian’s assistance. Philip didn’t growl at him, which was damn good since I didn’t know enough about the bite thing to be sure it would work again to calm him down.



As soon as Philip was somewhat steady Brian backed off and led the way to the back door. It was opened before he reached it by the door security guy from last night, so apparently we were expected.



“That’s it,” I murmured to the very unsteady Philip, keeping an arm around him. “Almost there.”



Brian led the way inside and down a short hallway to a small room with lab equipment and a single computer workstation. Two narrow mattresses, obviously dragged in from elsewhere, dominated the floor space.



I glanced up at Philip’s face as we walked. My gut clenched at the rigor of pain and concentration I saw there. Every movement was agonizing, yet he suffered in silence.



“Angel,” Brian said, “if you can get him on a mattress, that would be ideal.”



I gave him a quick nod to acknowledge I’d heard. “Okay, Philip, darlin’,” I said, maneuvering him to the nearest mattress. “I need you to lie down now, and then you can be nice and still, okay?”



He sank to the mattress, knees buckling at the end and near-collapsing the last foot or so. A wrenching cry of despair that was echoed in his eyes nearly broke my heart. I lay down beside him, keeping as much contact along his side as I could without putting pressure on him that might cause more pain.



A few seconds later I heard low voices and footsteps from the hallway we’d entered through, and then Heather and Dan appeared, practically carrying Kyle between them. His head lolled but his eyes were open, and he seemed to be trying his damndest to make his legs work well enough to walk. Heather gave me a quick wink, then helped Dan get Kyle settled onto the other mattress.



“Do you need brains?” Dan asked Kyle, but the other man shook his head in a drunken gesture.



“Strange,” Kyle slurred. “Not hungry. At all.”



Dan’s mouth pressed tight. “Not normal tranq, that’s for sure.”



“The mods did nothing,” Kyle continued, obviously focusing heavily on speaking as clearly as possible, with only partial success. “Knocked me down in seconds.”



Mods? That must have something to do with why he was surprised the tranq affected him. Some sort of antidote maybe? I turned my head toward them. “I got hit with that stuff the other night,” I said quietly in order to not disturb Philip. “It takes some time to wear off. The non-hunger, that is. Brains’ll be gross for a while.”



Dan glanced at me. “Good to know.” He looked back to Kyle. “You hear that? Just gotta wait it out.”



“Got it,” Kyle muttered. His hands and feet kept twitching, and it took me several seconds to realize he was consciously moving his fingers and toes in order to get his motor control back faster. The fact that he was awake but still without full motor control seemed odd to me. I’d been knocked out, yet as soon as I woke I was able to drive and move around with no trouble. Did it have something to do with the mods he’d mentioned? Perhaps he had an adverse reaction?



Philip tremored beside me, breath hissing between his teeth. I kept a hand on his shoulder while I let my gaze roam around the room, taking it all in. Heather sat beside Kyle’s mattress with a hand on his arm. Dan stood by the wall, arms folded over his chest, watching, and I had the feeling he was primed and ready to respond to anything that came up. The door guard fiddled with a computer that showed the outside surveillance camera feeds, and Rachel checked out the monitor over his shoulder. With the mattresses taking up much of the floor space, the small room was downright crowded.



A soft intake of breath from the doorway drew my attention. Dr. Kristi Fucking Charish stood there, a look of slight surprise on her face as she registered my presence.



I felt my lips pull back from my teeth in a snarl of hatred. Pietro had told me he had this bitch under his control, but she looked pretty goddamn uncontrolled to me.



Slowly, I lifted my hand and gave her the finger. Her face instantly shifted from surprise to practiced coolness. Her gaze went from me to Philip. A flicker of distaste passed over her features, sliding to a smirk of satisfaction as she looked back to me. She held my gaze for several seconds, then turned away and moved out of sight.



What the hell did that bitch have to look satisfied about? Before I could wonder about it much more, Brian came back in, a frown tugging at his mouth.



“Dr. Nikas is on his way, and there are too many people in here,” he announced. “Dan, Rachel, wait outside but stay close.”



The two quickly complied. I gave Brian a puzzled look but held my questions. His gaze flicked to Heather and then to me. I half expected him to ask the two of us to leave, and I tensed for an argument since there was no damn way I was leaving Philip right now. But apparently Brian figured we were doing more good than harm. He moved to me and crouched.



“Dr. Nikas doesn’t do well in crowds,” he explained in a low voice. His eyes went to Philip, and sympathetic anger flared behind them, then he stood, turned, and went to one knee beside Kyle.