My Life as a White Trash Zombie (White Trash Zombie 1)

I swallowed hard then forced my legs to carry me back to my car. I hadn’t imagined or hallucinated my hand getting slammed in the trunk. When I got back to my car I could definitely see flecks of blood on the edge of the trunk lid where my hand had been.

The brains . . . they healed me up. I couldn’t think of any other possible explanation. A hysterical giggle escaped me. Guess I didn’t need health insurance after all.

And maybe I wasn’t crazy either. I wanted to be relieved, but. . . .

A chill crawled through me. What kind of monster was I?

Making sure I had my hands safely out of the way this time, I shoved the trunk closed, scowling as it popped right back up again. I peered at the latch—or rather, what was left of the latch. It was in pieces, and when I looked around I could see that the hook part had somehow cracked off and was lying in the bottom of the trunk.

Okay, so my car was an old piece of shit. The latch was probably already cracked or something, and when I pulled on it I got lucky, that’s all.

Right?

I went back into the drugstore and bought some duct tape. I taped my trunk shut and got in the car, but paused before cranking the engine.

Something else was different.

It took me several seconds to figure it out, but finally I realized it was something that was missing. My stench.

I didn’t have to lift my arm and smell myself. I’d grown a bit used to it over the course of the day, but I knew that the aroma of rot that clung to me all day was now gone. I smelled as fresh as if I’d showered that morning—which I had, of course, but this was the first time all day I could believe it.

When I eat brains I don’t smell like rotten meat. I heard a low whimpering noise, then realized it was me.

Starting the car, I turned the radio up, then drove to the café to meet Derrel, while I did my best to pretend the last ten minutes had never happened.

Chapter 9

The Top Cow Café, situated in a slightly crummy section of Tucker Point, was a cramped little hole-in-the-wall with a sign out front so weatherworn it was barely readable and waitresses who didn’t waste their time with little things like courtesy and smiles. But the food was terrific, and the coffee kicked ass, and I’d never been there when half a dozen people weren’t patiently waiting their turn to be scowled at.

I walked into the café, bypassing the waiting people as I scanned for the hulking figure of my partner. It’s official , I thought with a sigh as I spied him at a table for four and realized who else was with him. God hates me.

Derrel gave me a broad smile and wave as I fixed my face into something other than the pained grimace I wanted to wear. Marcus Ivanov glanced my way and offered the most neutral of smiles. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed that I was there, but then I figured that surely Derrel would have told him I was coming, and if the deputy had a problem associating with my type, he could have shoved off before I got there. Not that I would have had a problem with that.

Screw it. I wasn’t going to be chased off. Besides, my stomach was giving a very ordinary sort of hunger grumble at the smells of pancakes and waffles. Well, that’s one good thing, I thought as I slid into the empty chair that wasn’t right next to Ivanov. I’m insane, but at least I don’t have to give up syrupy carbs.

“Angel, do you know Marcus?” Derrel asked with a smile. “Angel’s our newest employee,” he told Ivanov without waiting for me to reply. “She started as a van driver and morgue tech a couple of weeks ago.”

“We met on the scene this morning,” the deputy replied with an even smile, saving me from trying to figure out a way to explain how we’d actually met.

Well, that was cool of him. “Um, yeah, he saved me from doing a face-plant on the sidewalk,” I said with a laugh that I was sure sounded forced and self-conscious.

Derrel grinned. “Marcus takes the whole ‘serve and protect’ thing pretty damn seriously. That or he simply wanted an excuse to put his hands on a cute chick.”

I could feel myself flushing, and the only thing that saved me from total embarrassment was the fact that the deputy looked slightly flustered as well. Derrel simply laughed and shoved a menu my way.

“Here. Order food,” he told me. “We’ve already ordered, but you’re the one who’s all skin and bones.”

My stomach gave another soft little rumble, but I couldn’t be sure what the hell it was rumbling for. “I, uh, kinda just ate,” I mumbled.

Ivanov’s mouth curved in a smile. “You’ll need to keep your strength up if you’ll be working with this beast here,” he said with a nod toward Derrel. Then he looked back at me, smile still on his face. God-fucking-damn but he was seriously good-looking. “Have you ever had the stuffed pancakes here? They’re evil. I highly recommend them.”

“Heh. The cop is recommending evil,” I said. “Too funny.”

To my surprise, Ivanov chuckled. “You’ve discovered my dark side.”

Derrel made a rude noise. “And you’ve also seen all there is to his ‘dark side.’ This is the squeaky cleanest fucker I’ve ever met. How he manages to not be a complete dick is beyond me.”

Ivanov’s smile stretched into an actual grin. “You’ve obviously never talked to any of the, uh, guys I work with.”