White Trash Zombie Apocalypse (White Trash Zombie 3)

“Jesus Christ! Ed?”

He moved closer. “Yeah, sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s cool,” I said, taking a deep breath to get my pulse under control. “I know you can’t exactly saunter up to the front door in broad daylight.” Ed was wanted for multiple murders. Yeah, he’d killed those people—all zombies—but he’d been played and manipulated pretty heavily by the ruthless Dr. Kristi Charish. She’d convinced him that the “zombie menace” needed to be eradicated and that killing known zombies would be a good and noble thing to do. It didn’t help that he’d seen a zombie kill his dad about a decade earlier—which Charish knew all about and gleefully exploited. The truly tragic part was that she only manipulated Ed into becoming a serial killer because she wanted zombie heads for her own screwed-up research. Bitch.

I peered at him. When I first met Ed Quinn he looked like the typical boy next-door—tall and slender, reddish brown hair, scattering of freckles across his nose. After he went on the run he went goth as a disguise—dyed his hair black and spiked it, sported a variety of piercings, and dressed in skull-adorned clothing. Now he looked…ordinary. Dark brown hair in a conservative and boring style. Khaki pants. Dark blue polo-style shirt. Even the freckles were gone, either bleached away or hidden beneath a layer of makeup. I wouldn’t look at him twice, which was probably the point, I realized. “How are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m okay. I mean as okay as I can be while being hunted as a serial killer.”

I winced in sympathy. “I guess no one’s come up with some brilliant way to get you cleared of all that yet, huh?”

Ed exhaled, shook his head. “Nope. Never will be cleared legally,” he said, regret tingeing his voice. “Maybe a little redemption if the heads can be restored.”

“Yeah. That would be great, for your peace of mind and for them.” After the fiasco with Dr. Charish, I’d insisted that Pietro recover the zombie heads from her lab with the hope that the bodies could someday be regrown. Dr. Charish had done it once, though not with complete success. But I hadn’t heard squat about the heads in the past six months. I made a mental note to check on that soon.

Ed gave me a resigned shrug, and I could tell guilt ate at him. “Thankfully, Pietro has kept me well-hidden from the law.”

“But you can’t stay hidden forever,” I pointed out.

To my surprise a slight smile touched his mouth. “Actually, I can,” he said. “Not here, though. I’m leaving the country tonight. Pietro’s got me set up in Costa Rica. New identity. Fake passport and everything.”

“Oh. Wow.” A sharp pang of loss went through me. I definitely considered Ed a friend. Sure, he’d tried really hard to kill me, but he then made up for it by helping me out when I was kidnapped by Dr. Charish. “Costa Rica, huh?” I fought for a smile and struggled to be happy for him. It really was the only option that made sense, and Pietro certainly had the resources to make it happen. “That’s awesome,” I managed, then bit my lower lip, met his eyes. “Will you ever come back? I mean…will I ever see you again?”

“I don’t know,” he said, expression suddenly bleak. “Pietro and I talked about it. I’m going to have some plastic surgery.” He grimaced, rubbed his eyes. “I think I need some time away to get my head together. It’s been nothing but stress and confusion for a long time.”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty weird,” I agreed, then sighed. “I’m gonna miss you. I mean, I know I’ve barely seen you these past few months, but I’ve always known that I could see you…and now you’re going so far away.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Ed said. “That’s why I wanted to come say goodbye. I was really hoping you’d come out before I had to go.”

A warm fuzzy feeling went through me that he’d waited here. “Thanks,” I said. “I’m really glad you came by. Maybe you can write. I mean, using your new name and all.” I frowned. “What is your new name?”

He chuckled. “James Clement, and no, I’m not used to it.”

“James.” I laughed. “Yeah, that’s weird. You don’t seem like a James.”

“I know, but I can’t complain,” he said, shrugging. “Pietro really came through for me.”

I made a sour face. “Well, he kinda owed you, big time.” Pietro had been the zombie who’d killed Ed’s father. Of course that was right after Ed’s father had killed Ed’s mother because Pietro was sleeping with her. Yeah, major zombie soap opera stuff.

“He does owe me,” Ed agreed. “But owing and paying are two different things. I’m glad he didn’t take the easy road and get rid of me.”

“Oh shit,” I breathed, shocked at the idea. “I never even thought of that. Yikes.” A shudder ran through me. “Damn. Yeah, I guess that would’ve been a lot easier. Says something about Pietro, I suppose.”

“Exactly.” He gave me a smile. “Give me a hug. I’ve got to get out of here or I’ll miss my flight.”

I wrapped my arms around him, hugged him tightly while I tried not to cry and failed miserably at that. “You be careful,” I sniffled. “And you’d better write. I want postcards, dammit.”

Ed gave me a squeeze and kissed my cheek. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You can’t get rid of me.”

I finally released him and wiped at my eyes. “You’d better go.”

“Yep. And I’m going to be sweating bullets until I get through airport security,” he said. “I’ve been assured that I don’t need to worry, but damn.” He flashed a grin.

“If you get caught I’ll bust you out,” I promised, echoing his grin.

He laughed. “Deal. But let’s not think about that.” He kissed my cheek again. “Gotta run. Take care, Angel.”

“Always,” I replied softly as he turned and hurried to a waiting car. Was it possible to be happy and sad for someone at the same time?