White Trash Zombie Apocalypse (White Trash Zombie 3)

Jane laughed. “I don’t think I’d make it through my day!”

“What’s it like being in Congress?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t actually know yet,” she answered with a kind smile. “I was elected in a special election, but I won’t be sworn in until next week. It’s a dream come true, so I’m banking on it not being a nightmare.”

“Yeah, I guess that would kinda suck if it was miserable,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “But that’s still pretty damn cool that you got to reach your dream.”

Some emotion briefly darkened her eyes but was gone before I could get a sense of what it was. “Yes, it’s very damn cool,” she said, smiling. “Do you have a dream, Angel?”

I frowned. “I don’t know.” I looked around at the soiree surrounding us. “In a way simply being right here is a dream come true. I mean, it wasn’t all that long ago that I was a real mess. Didn’t care what happened to me.” I took a deep breath. “These days I try to take it one step at a time. Right now I’m trying to pass the GED. After that…” I shrugged, “don’t really know, but whatever it is, I intend to kick its ass.”

“That’s a good start,” she replied. If she was surprised or put off by the fact that I hadn’t finished high school she hid it well. “It takes a lot of determination to do something like that,” she continued.

I was more than a little pleased that she wasn’t doing the pity or disdain thing at all. I definitely saw why Pietro was so gaga over her. Or rather, as gaga as a man like Pietro could be. “I don’t know about ‘determination,’” I said with a shrug. “I want something better for me and my dad.” I gestured at the Gala around us. “The only reason I’m here is because Pietro gave me and Marcus tickets. And don’t get me wrong—it’s awesome that he did that for us. But I’d love to someday be able to do something like this and not have to think, ‘Oh, wait, if I buy these tickets then I can’t pay the light bill or the water bill.’”

“It seems like you’re on the right track,” she said. “You said your life was a mess not long ago, but you certainly don’t show it now.” She smiled. “Are you working?”

“I work at the Coroner’s Office,” I told her, then grinned. “I wrangle dead bodies.”

Jane laughed and made the typical that’s-kinda-gross face I was accustomed to. “I’m sorry I asked. Do you…like it?”

“Y’know, it’s actually really interesting,” I replied, then paused. “It, uh, gives you a lot of perspective, that’s for sure.”

She tilted her head, eyes on mine. “How so?”

I met her gaze easily. For a Congresswoman, she was really easy to talk to. “Well, you get to see that lots of times people don’t get a chance to say goodbye. Shit can happen out of nowhere, and then you’re gone.” I shrugged and spread my hand. “And, well, it doesn’t matter how rich or powerful you are. You’re still gonna die eventually.”

Her expression grew sober in thought, and I grimaced. “Sorry, I’m being a major downer here,” I said.

She chuckled. “Not at all, I—” She turned at a sudden commotion in the tent near the walkway.

The sight of another zombie actor stumbling through the tent triggered an odd oh-shit-something’s-wrong feeling in my gut. He’d been with the group earlier. I remembered his filthy, sky blue polyester suit. As I watched, he staggered drunkenly between the tables and yelled an incomprehensible word a couple of times that sure as hell wasn’t braaaaiins.

Some people drew back in alarm but, based on the grins and chatter of the crowd, it was clear that the majority thought it was part of the movie promo.

Jane winced as the zombie grabbed at a patron’s plate, snagging a chunk of cake and stuffing it in his mouth. “Oh, dear. That’s a bit much, isn’t it.”

“No kidding,” I murmured as the oh-shit feeling grew.

And then the breeze shifted. If I hadn’t been fairly well tanked up, I might not have noticed it, but right now there was no mistaking the very faint stench of zombie rot.

Alarm shot through me. That’s a real zombie. I quickly swept my gaze around, but Marcus and Pietro were nowhere to be seen. Something needed to be done before this zombie started smashing heads.

Something needed to be done. By someone.

Shit.

Why did I have the feeling that someone was going to be me?

Chapter 5

I quickly dug the bag of brain chips out of my purse and stuffed them into my jacket pocket, then did my best to put on an exasperated expression. “Well, hell, he must be drunk or something, and everyone’s frickin’ watching him,” I said. “I’m gonna try to get him the hell away from the crowd and see what’s wrong with him.”

Jane shot me a startled look, and I suddenly realized how ludicrous it no doubt seemed to her that I—all barely-one-hundred pounds of me—was planning on confronting what she assumed to be a rowdy drunk. “Angel! Are you mad? We should wait for Pietro and Marcus. You could get hurt!”

“I won’t get too close,” I hurried to reassure her, though she didn’t look at all reassured. “They aren’t far, right? Just call Pietro and tell him what’s going on.” And with that I stood and headed off through the crowd before she could make any more extremely sensible protests.

Being skinny had its advantages when it came to slipping through a crowd. I ducked between a couple of gawkers and came face to face with the zombie. Close up I smelled the undertone of rot better, but his appearance confused the hell out of me. Movie makeup…and chocolate cake. A gruesome fake eye hung out of its prosthetic socket on one side of his face, but latex gaped on the other where he’d clawed at it, exposing the real grey, peeling skin beneath. This was a hungry real zombie made up as an extra, but he sure wasn’t acting right. I’d been starving more than once and there was no way I would’ve confused cake with what I really needed.