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

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked.

Her scowl twisted into a snarl. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Did?” My brain finally clicked into gear. Andrew. Excuses and defensive explanations leapt into my head. Naomi, I didn’t know what else to do. He was dying, bleeding internally, and I swear I asked him if it was okay, I swear!

I shoved down the stammering, uncertain response the old Angel would have spouted. Fuck that noise. I was at peace with how that whole thing played out. Lifting my chin, I locked my gaze with hers. “I made a decision based on how bad his injury was,” I stated. “He was dying. I told him I could possibly save him and asked permission. He gave me permission.” I kept my hands down by my sides so she wouldn’t see how they trembled from fatigue and stress. “I don’t regret it.”

Her lip curled, and then she grinned widely. “Damn it, I was hoping to fuck with you.” She pulled me into a hug. “Serves him right, the big ol’ zombie hater.”

I wilted in relief. “Oh, Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have ambushed you,” she said as she released me, only looking a teensy bit sorry.

I shrugged, grinned. “I’d have done the same to you.”

“He doesn’t know I know,” she said. “He barely slowed down to wave between the shower and hiding in the bedroom, but I could feel it. You know how I am.”

“Yeah, you got that sixth sense thing going on with zombies.” I shook my head. “It’s weird him being a zombie now.”

“What’s going to happen?” she asked, worry puckering her forehead. “He can’t go back.”

The thought that had been niggling away at the back of my head came out now. “Why not?” I met her eyes. “As long as he stays fed, how would anyone know?”

She blinked, obviously shocked and a little freaked that I hadn’t replied with, Of course he can’t go back .

“But if my mother finds out,” she said, “or the lab people—” She gave her head a quick little shake of denial. “He can’t!”

“Andrew’s not stupid. And he doesn’t want to stay with us.” I took a deep breath. “Not to mention, with this whole Dallas lab thing going on, it sure would be cool for us to have someone on the inside.”

She stared at me as if I had gone completely nuts. “You think you’d have him as an insider? Are you on some of Dr. Nikas’s happy juice?”

“I don’t mean calling us with daily updates or anything.” I shrugged. “But in a perfect world that would fucking rock.”

“Yeah, it would.” She sighed. “But he’s such a . . .” She trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Weenie? Prick? Jerk? Asshole?”

She let out a quick laugh. “All of the above, and throw in Corporate Cog. Though I guess with him being all zombified, it’s more than we had before.” She blew out a breath. “God, he better not get caught.”

“It’s up to him anyway,” I pointed out. “Who knows, maybe this whole experience will change his outlook. I mean, I don’t think he’s really as much of a fucking nasty prick as he seems.” I considered the various facets of Andrew I’d seen when he was most certainly under high stress conditions. “It’s as if a bunch of his crap is simply because everyone expects him to be a big tough Saber.”

“Maybe so.” Her mouth twisted. “But when he’s on , he can run with the worst of them.”

I snorted. “I’ve noticed.”

She echoed my snort, then peered into my face. “You need to get some rest. Dr. Nikas cooked up some new shit for Kyle, Marcus, and Philip. Also, Kyle wanted to see you, but I don’t think it’s urgent. He’s in the front bedroom upstairs.”

“I still have a couple of functioning brain cells,” I told her. “I’ll see him and then crash.” I pulled her into a hug. “Thanks, chick.”

She held me close, and a tremble went through her. “I know I joke and bitch, but thank you for watching out for Andrew. He drives me bugnuts, but he’s still my brother.”

I squeezed her then let her go. “I totally get it. It’s like the stuff with my dad.”

A flicker of hope lit her eyes. She knew how horrible my relationship with my dad had once been, and she also knew how much we’d repaired it. “Yeah. I guess it is.” I thought she was going to hug me again, but instead she hobbled off toward the kitchen on her crutches, humming under her breath.

Returning upstairs, I headed to the front bedroom. The door was open a crack, so I eased it open and peered in. Kyle was in the bed, eyes closed and a blanket drawn up to his chin. His face still didn’t seem as if it had pulled together quite right yet, and I realized that Naomi’s high spirits when she’d confronted me had been a big ol’ smokescreen for her own worry and anger.

He opened his eyes as the light from the hall spilled into the room. “Angel.” His voice was wet, raspy, and thin.

I closed the door behind me, then needed a couple of seconds for my eyes to adjust in the gloom before I pulled a chair up by the bed and sat. A whisper of daylight snuck around heavy curtains, barely enough light for me to see, but I had a feeling any more would be uncomfortable for Kyle. “Hey,” I said. “Naomi told me you wanted to see me?”

“Yes. Thank you. For coming in and getting me out of there.”

My hands clenched. “No way was I gonna leave you there. I’d burn the whole building down before abandoning you to those fuckers.”

“I’ve been through a lot before,” he said, slowly and with focused effort. “Nothing . . . nothing like that.”

“Jesus fuck, I’d hope not!” I shivered. “That was a horror show.”

His gaze met mine. “You know how I am about leaving this world,” he said.

The air in the room seemed to thicken around me. “I do.”

He must have seen the sudden Oh, god, please don’t ask me to do what I think you’re going to ask me to do, I’ll do it because, yeah, but please don’t! in my eyes. “No,” he said quickly. “No, not that.”

I blew out a relieved breath. “Okay.”

“I want you to know that I don’t want to go anywhere until every one of those motherfuckers is put out of commission.” He spoke with a frightening vehemence made even scarier by the quality of his voice. “Every one of them who can spend their day dreaming up a paste to innervate rot, every one of them who can smear it on and laugh. They fucked with the wrong zombie.”

I leaned close. “And I’m here to tell you, if you do happen to go before you’re done, I’ll finish the job for you.”

He gave the barest hint of a nod. “Then we understand each other.”

“We do.”

With that the dark tension seemed to leave both the room and him. “You should sleep if you can,” I said. “Do you need Dr. Nikas?”

“Yes. I refused to take the sedative until I saw you.”

“I’ll go get him.” I stood and moved to the door then looked back at him. “Thanks for having that kind of faith in me.”

An uneven smile flickered. “Get the fuck out of here.”

With a low chuckle, I did so, then found Dr. Nikas and told him Kyle was ready for a sedative. With that mission accomplished, I found the couch and once again introduced my face to its welcoming cushiness.

After a few hours of sleep, two mugs of coffee, and another nice long shower, I once again found myself summoned to Pierce’s room.

Brian was there as well, and I barely had time for a quick nod to him before Pierce asked, “How would you like to be the voice of the Tribe?” without any sort of intro like, Hello, Angel, I hope you’re doing well or Are you ready for me to lay some more weird shit on you?