Angel Crawford #2: Even White Trash Zombies Get the Blues

  “Angel,” he said before I could speak. “It’s obvious you’re in trouble. I can help you. Tell me where you are.”

  “Nah,” I said absently, still trying to think. “I don’t trust you.”

  He let out a low snort of amusement. “At least you’re honest. Are you still injured? Do you need brains?”

  “No, I’m cool.” Injuries. Brains. Was that it? I covered the receiver and whispered to Ed, “Your mom—she was friends with Dr. Kristi Burke, right? Was she a neurologist too?”

  “They worked in the same practice,” he said, still looking confused. “But she’s not Dr. Burke anymore. She divorced and took back her maiden name. She’s Dr. Charish now.”

  I stared at him, suddenly feeling as if my brain was one of those old-fashioned boards at train terminals in old movies where the little tiles cascaded down to form words or a picture. Because, finally, a coherent picture was starting to form.

  I smiled thinly. “She changed her hair color too, right?” At his nod I continued. “And did Pietro know her as well?” I already knew the answer to this one since I remembered she’d been at his little soirée.

  Now his mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Most definitely.”

  Grinning, I uncovered the mouthpiece. “Okay, Pietro, I’m pretty sure you’re full of shit. Well, maybe not completely full of shit, but I think that maybe Sofia wasn’t the only scientist on your payroll. Dr. Charish also works for you, right?”

  There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “Yes, Kristi also works for me, but on a different project than the one Sofia was working on.”

  I scowled into the phone. “Yeah, well I think your good doctor knew exactly what was going on in her lab. And I’m pretty sure she was the one who duped Ed into chopping zombie heads off.” But I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something. Was this whole thing really just about developing better fake brains to make money off zombies? Or was it some kind of zombie war? But if so, why the hell did they now need a live zombie? And why me?

  There was another extended silence on Pietro’s end. “There are dire consequences for harming or interfering with anyone under my protection,” he finally said, voice low and dark. “Whoever is responsible for these murders, you can be certain that I will deal with it.”

  I didn’t trust Pietro, but I also knew I wouldn’t ever want to cross him. I was pretty sure that all of my comments about the Zombie Mafia were closer to the mark than most people suspected. So, in a way, this was almost reassuring. Almost.

  “I have to make some calls,” he said abruptly. “Call me again as soon as you’re in a safe place.”

  I scowled as the line went dead. “Asshole,” I muttered. I hung up the phone then blinked at the sound of quarters dropping into the change return. Oh, right, I’d been in the middle of calling my dad. I quickly put the quarters back in and dialed the house number, mentally framing what message I was going to leave, in the hopes that it wouldn’t be quite so much incoherent babble.

  It picked up after the second ring. “Hello, Angel,” said a familiar voice that wasn’t my dad’s.

  Chapter 22

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I shouted into the phone. “Get the fuck out of my house, you cocksucking asstard!”

  “My god, you’re a foul-mouthed thing, aren’t you.”

  “Yeah, well, get over it. So what the fuck is this?” I said. “Is this where you have my dad and offer to trade us or some equally lame bullshit? Are you working from Evil Plots for Dummies or some shit like that?”

  “That’s pretty clever,” McKinney replied. “I may have to write that someday. But yes, I have your father, and I’m willing to make a trade, him for you. Very simple: you cooperate or your dad dies.”

  I felt my mouth twist into something not quite a smile. “Uh huh. First off, I don’t believe you really have my dad. Second off, go fuck yourself.”

  To my surprise he chuckled. “Ah. You require proof. Fair enough.”

  I heard some rustling, then, “Angelkins?”

  “Oh my god, Dad,” I groaned. “What are you doing at home?”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I live here, remember?”

  “But it’s football night! Why aren’t you down at Kaster’s?”

  “Because it’s a goddamn bar!” he shouted back. “And I’m trying to not go to bars any more, ’cause when I go to bars I drink, and I’m trying not to drink any more ’cause it’s pretty much the only way to get sober, goddammit!”

  “Oh,” I said in a small voice. “Okay. That makes sense.”

  I heard him take a shuddering breath. “What’s going on, baby?” he said in a somewhat more normal tone of voice. “Are you in some kind of trouble with these people? You can tell me, honey. I’ll love you no matter what.”

  My chest squeezed so tight I wasn’t sure I could even breathe. “Daddy, it’s okay. I’m not in trouble. I mean, not like drugs or shit like that. This asstard wants some information I have. This’ll all be over real soon.”

  “Okay, baby. I trust you. You do what you gotta do, y’hear?”

  “Oh, I will, Dad,” I replied fervently. Damn straight I would.

  More rustling, and then McKinney came back on the phone. “Enough jibber jabber. Here’s what you’re going to do.”

  “Did you just say ‘jibber jabber’?” I asked. “Seriously? What bad guy says ‘jibber jabber’?”

  He sighed. “You’re going to be a complete pain in my ass, aren’t you?”

  “You started this.”

  “So I did. Fine. You’re going to go to the East St. Edwards High School football field and stand in the middle of the fifty yard line. You know where that is?”

  “I know it.” Did I ever.

  “As soon as you are there—alone—I’ll release your dad, let you two wave to each other in passing, and then he will walk out the gate by the north end zone, where he can get into a car driven by your sidekick—”

  “My sidekick?” I gave Ed a sidelong look.

  “Yes, the knight in shining armor who rescued you from my dastardly clutches.”

  “Dude, you read way too many romance novels. Fine. You let my dad go, my sidekick wonder boy takes my dad far away from cockwaffles like you, and then…what, I keep standing in the damn field?”

  He chuckled. “Yes. Out in the open. And alone. I’ll give you half an hour to get your pieces in position.” The line went dead.

  I hung the phone up. “Could you hear all that?” I asked Ed.

  “I got the gist,” he said, voice quiet.

  “So now what do I do?”

  Ed was silent for a moment. I could almost see the thoughts ticking behind his eyes. “Your dad said, ‘these people,’ which tells me that McKinney probably isn’t working alone anymore. I’m betting that he’ll have a sniper in place who’ll simply shoot you until you can’t fight back, and then they’ll grab you.”

  I nodded agreement. “And the stuff with my dad is to get you out of the way and make sure that you aren’t set up to snipe his ass.”

  “Sounds about right,” he said, grimacing.

  “Why the hell does he want me?” I growled.

  “Easy target? War between the zombies? Hostage?” he offered, shrugging. “Or perhaps it’s something completely unrelated to this power struggle between the factions, and these people somehow found out that you’re a zombie, and they need a zombie for some other nefarious purpose, ergo they’re after you.”

  “Sofia knew I was a zombie,” I said, grimacing.

  “She was definitely involved in all of this somehow.” He took a deep breath. “All right then, whatever the reason, somehow we need to figure out a way to make it where being shot won’t be so, um, debilitating for you.”

  “I could wear your body armor,” I suggested.

  He stepped back and sized me up. “We could try,” he said, but he sounded awfully doubtful.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Well, you’re a
wfully skinny, and I can’t exactly put a couple of tucks in a Kevlar vest in order to make it fit you.” He shook his head. “I think it’ll be really obvious that you’re wearing it, which will only encourage a decent shooter to go for places that aren’t covered by the vest.”

  “Well, that sucks,” I muttered.

  Ed’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I have an idea that might help…but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

  “Lay it on me,” I said. “It’s not like I’m brimming with brilliance right now.”

  I listened as he laid it out for me. He was right. I didn’t like it. I kinda fucking hated it.

  But it was brilliant enough that I also loved it.

  Chapter 23

  I lost my virginity to Randy on this football field, in this exact spot, though I didn’t remember it being quite so creepy back then. Tonight the lights were all off, and there was enough of a fog to make me jumpy as all hell, certain that any number of unnamed threats were about to jump out at me from the shadows. I’m the monster, I tried to remind myself. There was only one threat that I had to worry about, and his name was McKinney. And whoever he had with him, of course.

  Didn’t help. Still completely freaked out.

  On the other hand, I was tanked up on brains darn near as high as I’d ever been. Even though it was dark, I could see every blade of grass, hear the buzzing of the mosquitos, feel the low thrum of the engine of Ed’s truck from where it was idling farther down the street. A slight shift of movement from behind the bleachers caught my attention as surely as if the man back there had stood up and waved a flag. He had a rifle pointed at me. I was definitely going to get shot again. But with any luck the combination of zombie super-speed and the reserve of brains I had on hand would be enough to counteract the damage.

  I sure as hell hoped so, because right now that was the only plan we had.

  A breeze swirled past me, and I lifted my head, nostrils flaring like an animal as the wind brought the scent of two people. They were by the south end zone, and I recognized both scents. My dad and McKinney. So Ed was right, the sniper behind the bleachers was a new player. How many others were nearby?

  Turning slowly I extended my zombie super senses as far as they could go, seeking out scents and movements. At least one more—over by the opposing side bleachers, and also with a rifle. Possibly more but the light wind wasn’t cooperating. Probably one rifle trained on me and one on my dad to keep me from simply grabbing him and bolting. Even with zombie super strength and speed I wouldn’t be able to avoid bullets while also shielding my dad.

  Which meant that I was back to depending on the Power of Brains.

  I clenched and unclenched my hands. A creak of metal alerted me, and I spun toward the south end zone to see my dad and McKinney walking through the gate. They paused at the goal line, then my dad continued toward me alone, shuffling in his usual gait but clearly doing his best to hurry. I breathed shallowly, straining my ears for anything unusual—the click of a trigger or a muttered order to fire.

  Nothing but the shuffling of my dad’s feet over the grass. It seemed to take forever, but he finally made it across the field to me. I seized him in a hug. God, he felt so frail.

  “You okay?” I asked, releasing him and raking my gaze over him.

  He nodded, swallowed harshly. “Yeah. I’m fine. Now let’s get out of here, baby.”

  “No, you have to keep walking,” I said, gesturing to the other end of the field. “A friend of mine is going to pick you up, and y’all have to get the hell away from here. Understand?” I could hear Ed’s truck rev as he began to ease toward the pick-up point.

  He scowled. “I ain’t leaving you. You fuckin’ kidding? I’m your dad, goddammit.”

  “Yeah, and I’m your daughter who needs to kick some ass but has to know you’re safe first, okay?” I gave him a hard look. He hesitated, and I knew he was remembering the time it was his ass I had to kick—or threaten to kick, at least.

  “Please, Dad, you have to go,” I said urgently. “I have to know you’re all right.”

  He hesitated, clearly agonized. He wanted to be there for me, help save the day. He’d dropped the ball too many times to count in the last few years, but he’d been there for me when it had counted most, when he had to make the choice between his wife and me.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “You have to go. It’s the right thing. I can’t…do what I have to do if you’re here.”

  Swallowing hard, he pulled me into another fierce hug. “Love you, Angelkins. I’m so proud of you.” He let me go, gave a nod. “You go kick whatever ass needs kicking.”

  “I will,” I said with a shaky smile. “Now please, go get to safety.”

  It had to have been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he did it—kept walking and left me there in the middle of that field. I watched as Ed pulled up right by the gate and my dad climbed into the truck. I braced myself, and as soon Ed gunned the engine to get the hell out of there I broke into a sprint.

  I knew I was fast, but the snipers must have been damn good. I felt two hits in my lower back, but I simply peeled my lips back in a feral smile and kept running. Sure, two shots would slow me down some, but…

  I stumbled and went to my knees. My legs didn’t want to work properly. What the hell? I was so high on brains that should’ve barely caused a hitch in my stride. I fumbled to reach the bag in the side pocket of my pants, but my arms didn’t want to work either. Fear slammed through me as I slumped heavily onto my side. Numbness swept through me, but it wasn’t anything like the other times I’d been shot.

  Not shot—tranqued, I realized in horror as I watched a white van speed across the field and stop in front of me. I had no choice but to watch since I couldn’t move or turn my head. If I’ve been drugged the parasite will take care of it, I tried to reassure myself. But I knew, with a growing sense of horror, that it wouldn’t be quickly enough. My senses were fading, and I felt the first stirrings of hunger, but that was probably my parasite doing its best to simply keep me alive. Why should it care if I couldn’t move right now?

  McKinney and another man exited the van and approached. McKinney crouched in my line of sight while the other moved behind me. I could feel the second guy putting handcuffs on me or something similar. It was tough to be sure, since I had a Novocaine-type numbness throughout most of my body.

  “Hello, sweetie,” McKinney said with a grin. “See? I kept my end of the bargain. And now you’re pumped full of enough animal tranquilizer to kill an elephant. I had a feeling that would be more effective—and so much less messy—than shooting you. My new partners are bringing a great deal to the table.” He gave a nod toward the other man and then gestured to—I assumed—the two snipers.

  I couldn’t even blink, but apparently I was still able to glare daggers at him because he chuckled. “Fun times ahead, Angel. Fun times.”

  Chapter 24

  Once I was safely handcuffed and leg-shackled, they made a fairly thorough search of my person. If I’d been able to curse—or even breathe deeply—I would have when they located the bag of brains in my side pocket. Instead I was absolutely shrieking in terror on the inside.

  “Jesus,” I heard one of them mutter. “Is that…?”

  “Brains?” McKinney answered. “Yes. And it’s the last thing we need to let her have right now.”

  “That’s disgusting,” the first one said.

  McKinney’s response was a bark of laughter. “Well, you’d better get used to it fast.”

  After that, they put me in some sort of large metal box or container. It had plenty of air holes, though, so apparently they were easing up on me in that they weren’t going to let me suffocate. I lost track of time, but it didn’t seem to take long before a lesser sort of numbness began to take over my limbs, and I could wiggle my fingers and toes again. But as the paralysis faded the hunger grew. Whatever I’d been drugged with had clearly forced my parasite to use up a lot of resources, and now it wa
nted to be fed. Badly. The hunger clawed at me, telling me to break the chains and get out of the box by any means necessary. The air holes allowed me to detect two people with lovely, edible brains in the back of the van with me. I wanted them both. I could take them—I knew that.

  I clenched my teeth, breath hissing as I fought the urges. Even if I could break the chain on the handcuffs and shackles, I doubted that I could get through the metal of this box. It looked like the kind of container used to transport dangerous animals, like tigers and stuff. In fact, it probably was, now that I thought about it with the few brain cells still under my control. And if this thing could hold a six-hundred-pound tiger, there was no way my barely one hundred pounds would be able to break free, even with a zombie parasite on my side. I’d only damage myself more.

  On the other hand, I had the advantage of being a scrawny little thing, and adequately limber enough to wiggle around and get the handcuffs in front of me. The air holes didn’t let in much light but there was enough for me to see that the skin of my wrists beneath the handcuffs was torn and I could see through to the bone. I’d lost a few fingernails as well, but I was used to that. My breath came in slow, rasping gurgles, and I made no effort to control it. Might as well see if I could freak out the men with me in the back of the van. It was insanely tempting to say something like, “I want to eat you,” but I didn’t want to risk them shooting or tranquing me again. I was in a bad enough state as it was.

  Instead I curled up into a ball in the corner of the container, squeezing my eyes shut while I tried to focus on anything except how insanely hungry I was. When that didn’t work, I shifted my thoughts to what I would do when they opened the container. That would be my chance.

  But if I break free, won’t they just come after me—or my dad—again?

  My lips curled back in a silent snarl. Right now I was willing to take that chance. And if the hunger got any worse, I wouldn’t be able to control what I did when that door opened up.

  But it did get worse. It was all I could think about. My entire existence narrowed down to an excruciating need to find brains. I had no idea how much time passed as we drove. I thought it was probably longer than half an hour, but beyond that I couldn’t be sure. I could barely hold onto rational thought, much less keep track of the passage of time. After a while I was aware of a low huffing growl, then realized it was coming from me. Not long after that, I was aware only of the hunger and the need to reach the two who were just out of my reach.