Diana Rowland - How the White Trash Zombie Got Her Groove Back

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Kyle said, thankfully putting an end to my word vomit. “Here. Sit down.”

I sank back to the sofa and bit my quivering lower lip. Why was I such a weenie?

A faint smile played on Kyle’s mouth. “This is about me, not you, remember?” The smile faded as he drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “Saberton and origins,” he said with a shake of his head. “Both hard topics for me.”

Wiping the tears away on my sleeve, I did my best to push down my own stupid insecurities. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s none of my business.”

“No, I don’t, and no, it’s not,” he said. He picked up a slice of pizza, took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “But things are different after these last couple of days. And since Brian . . .” As he said the name he hurled the slice of pizza back into the box. “He left. The fucker left. For Saberton. ” His fist clenched, and he spat out the words, though his eyes reflected deep sadness.

“Yeah, it sucks. He fucked us all over. Why does that piss you off so extra much?”

Kyle remained quiet for an endless moment, then spoke softly, “He’s the one who turned me.”

That was not the answer I’d expected. “Oh,” I said as a delaying tactic while I tried to figure out a way to ask what happened without sounding super nosy. I gave up. “What happened?”

“I was dying,” he said, a new intensity in his voice. “So very close. And he turned me.”

“Um. That’s usually how it works,” I said. “Dying. Get turned. Become zombie. I’m sensing there’s more to the story.”

“You don’t always have to be dying,” he corrected with a shrug. “But I was. Saberton had about killed me with an experimental combat stimulant. It caused an aggressive lymphoma, and I was in the final stages.”

When he paused, I filled in, “And Brian saved you.” That didn’t sound like a bad thing to me. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”

Kyle’s shoulders curled forward, and he looked away. “I didn’t want to be saved, Angel,” he said, voice low and shaking with emotion.

“You mean you didn’t want to become a zombie.” I totally got that.

“No, I didn’t want to live at all.”

That slowed me down. “Then why did he turn you?”

“He was under orders to recruit me.”

Speechless, I could only stare as I processed his words.

“Angel,” Kyle said, his voice tight. “I’d waited my whole life to die.”

I licked dry lips and found my voice. “I don’t understand.”

He brought his eyes back to mine. “Nobody does. Nobody .” Sad emptiness filled his posture, his eyes, his words; thick and cloying, it sucked me closer.

“Kyle. Give me a chance to try, okay?”

He didn’t speak for a moment. “Have you ever wanted to be dead?”

My gut clenched, and my fingers went cold. “Yeah,” I said, barely able to force the word out.

Kyle gave a little nod. “That was me as long as I can remember.”

I drew my legs up, wrapped my arms around them. “Why?”

He shook his head, eyes focused on nothing. “I never felt as if I belonged. Not anywhere. Not even in my own skin.” He leaned forward, planted his elbows on his knees. “I was ten years old, dreaming about leaving.”

“And when you finally were,” I said slowly, “Brian took it away from you.”

“I’ve never been suicidal,” he told me. “There’s a difference between wanting to leave and being suicidal. I know it’s hard to see the difference, but—”

“No,” I said. “I get it.”

He let out a soft breath. “I was ready. I hated Dr. Kerazny for how it all came about, but I was more than ready to go. Everything was set.”

We sat in silence for a time as the full magnitude of the violation sank in. “Sonofabitch. He turned you against your will and put you to work.” I shivered.

“I tried to kill him during the process. Tried to kill myself.”

“But why did you come work for Pietro? I mean, shit. What he and Brian did to you was awful. ”

“Normally, I wouldn’t have,” Kyle replied. “But once Mr. Ivanov understood enough, we spoke at length. He needed me, and I agree with his goals. I decided that if I had to stay on this goddamn planet, I didn’t mind working for someone at odds with Saberton.”

“You really do hate Saberton, don’t you?” The level of emotion in his voice was impossible to fake.

“I hate what Saberton has become in the last decade, ever since Richard Saber teamed with Dr. Kerazny and set up the Dallas lab. Mr. Saber withdrew after that. A few months later the zombie intel came in from Naomi.” He met my eyes. “I brought in their first zombie test subject for the Dallas lab four years ago. A man from Portland.” He gave a sharp shake of his head as though to clear a bad memory. “Then came Mr. Saber’s battle with cancer and his sudden death.”

I processed that. “You think his cancer was related to the lab shit?”

“I don’t have proof of anything, Angel,” he replied.

“But you suspect it.”

He nodded.

“Thanks for being willing to share all that with me.”

His gaze drifted to the window. “Naomi doesn’t understand,” he said. “About me wanting to leave.”

“No,” I said after brief consideration. “She wouldn’t. She’s too into life and excitement and new experiences. She’s probably convinced that if you could see the world the way she does, you’d be all right.”

“Mr. Ivanov accepts it. Brian knows.” He ground his teeth. “Even though I could never forget what he did, he always had my back. We’d come to an understanding. Then he goes and turns traitor, just like that.”

I had a feeling the two had a strong tie despite the rocky surface. “We don’t know the whole story of what happened with Brian,” I said, though I had no idea why I was defending him in any way. “What he did to us sucks ass but, shit, maybe he was blackmailed or something. I don’t know.”

Kyle closed his eyes, dropped his head back against the sofa. “I’m so tired, Angel,” he said and it was as if life drained out of the space around him with each word. “He had my fucking back.”

That simple sentence defined so much. “This probably doesn’t mean much,” I offered hesitantly, “but I’ll have your back, if you want.” Crap, that sounded dumb coming from me. “I don’t have skills like you or Brian, but . . . I get it.”

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “It’s good to know you’ve got my back, Angel.”

The sincerity in his voice actually startled me. He wasn’t simply saying that to be nice. He meant it and, damn it, I meant it as well. I would totally have his back. “Really?” I asked, to be sure.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” I let my thoughts circle a bit before I spoke again. “You were a lot braver than me.”

“About what?”

“About wanting to leave. I didn’t do anything directly, but I started doing more and more stupid and destructive shit. You kept on going, until it was time.”

“It has nothing to do with being brave,” he said, turning his head to look at me. “You and I, we’re not so different. I said yes to one of the most dangerous careers out there. Thing is, I’m honest with what I do. It’s not in me to screw up just to buy an easy ticket out, and I’m good at my job. So, here I am.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad I’ve had the chance to know you.”

He didn’t expect me to say that. A bit of the warmth returned to his eyes and to the room.

“Did you learn anything when you checked out Saberton?” I asked to fill the silence.

“Nothing useful other than the entrances. Front door. Underground parking with van loading dock and service entrance. Elevator and stairs to the garage.”