Even White Trash Zombies Get the Blues (White Trash Zombie 2)

He put his hands on my shoulders. “Can I do both? Look, my uncle and Sofia still think that Zeke Lyons was working for a rival faction that was trying to steal Sofia’s research. If that’s the case then maybe this McKinney character was working for these rebels.”

“Rebels?” My lips twitched. “Seriously? A rebel alliance of zombies?”

Marcus didn’t share my amusement. “It’s a serious issue, Angel. Whoever has access to an alternate source of brains is going to be practically unstoppable.”

That killed my amusement. “Okay, so you’re looking at warring factions of zombies fighting for control of the fake brains that can make them superundeadhumans.” I narrowed my eyes. “Why can’t they just fucking share?”

“Well, my uncle disagrees with the goals and policies of these other zombies. He feels it’s important for us to remain on our guard against other zombie hunters and—”

I drew back. “So this is all politics? Are you shitting me?”

“No, it’s not all politics,” he replied, anger tingeing his voice. “Even an improved supply of brains won’t make us invincible. There will still be people who think we’re monsters. It’s important to maintain a low profile and make sure that the zombie population is controlled, as well as the supply of brains.”

I could see that this was about to degenerate into the same argument we’d had before, and I didn’t have the energy or will to go there again. “Has Sofia managed to successfully make these replacement brains yet?”

A flicker of a grimace passed over his face. “She says she’s had a few hiccups, but she feels confident that she’s close.” he said. He offered me a smile. “Just think, soon you might not be tied to working in a morgue for the rest of your life.”

I didn’t bother to point out that I liked working there. Because as much as that was true, I also knew I’d jump on the chance to not have to work there. “I still don’t understand how Zeke could be alive—or dead, rather—if his head was chopped off.”

“That one has me baffled too,” he admitted. “But I think that’s even more evidence that this other faction of zombies is making strides with their own research.” He spread his hands and shrugged. “There’s so much we still don’t know about how the parasite works.” His phone beeped, and he pulled it off his belt to peer at the screen. “I need to run.” He looked back up at me. “Please—and I swear this isn’t me trying to babysit you—please resist the urge to poke at this. You got caught in the middle completely by accident. I doubt that the guy who stole the body had any idea you were a zombie.” He squeezed my shoulders. “I don’t want you to become a target.”

“You’ll ask Sofia about McKinney?”

He looked like he wanted to sigh, but he didn’t. “I will. Promise. I’m heading to Lafayette tonight to visit my folks, but I’ll get up with her before I go.”

“All right then,” I said. “I’ll stop poking at the lab stuff.”

He smiled, and for an instant I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he simply released me and turned and headed back to his car. I watched as he drove off, then climbed into my own.

Good thing I was a lying, untrustworthy bitch. ’Cause there was no fucking way I was letting this shit go. Not as long as I was the one being slammed in the news. Both the zombie mafia and the rebel zombie alliance could suck my white trash undead ass.

Chapter 18

I slept late enough to feel almost rested, and went on in to work my noon shift. However, when I swiped my card at the back morgue entrance, the card reader stubbornly refused to let me in and instead kept blinking a “fuck you” red light at me. Scowling, I got back in my car—’cause I was lazy like that—and drove around to the front.

The receptionist, Rebecca, gave me a bright smile as I walked in. “Hi, sweetheart. Don’t normally see you coming through this way.”

“Yeah, there’s something wrong with my card,” I said. “Can you buzz me through?”

The smile slipped from her face. “Of course.” She bit her lip as she looked at something on her desk. “There’s a message here for you to see Allen when you come in.” Her eyes were shadowed with worry, and I didn’t need a high school diploma to put the pieces together. Card not working and a note to see my supervisor?

“Have I been fired?” I managed to ask.

Her eyes narrowed. “You’d better not have been!” she announced, but there was a shimmer of doubt in her eyes as she pressed the button to let me in.

The door buzzed, and I went on through, anger and dismay fighting it out in a hard knot within my chest. I began to head down the hallway to Allen’s office, but Rebecca reached out and stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“No matter what happens, you’ll always have friends here, darlin’.”

I forced out a smile for her. She gave me a little pat, then turned back to her desk. I continued on to Allen’s office, deeply grateful when I didn’t run into anyone else on the way.

His door was open. I didn’t bother knocking on the doorframe or anything polite like that. I simply came in and plopped down in the chair in front of the desk. “Hi, Allen. My card isn’t working. And I have a message to see you. Have I been fired?” And hey, I managed to say it without sounding like I was about to burst into tears.

He frowned at the still open door, but I wasn’t about to get up and close it so that he could say the bullshit he had to say in private.

“You’re not fired,” he said, returning his gaze to me.

“But?” Because it was obvious there was a gigantic “but” coming.