I tore my eyes away from Brian. “Um, yeah. It was no biggie,” I said, more than a little thrown off by the totally unexpected ally.
Brian took a step back, his eyes lingering on me. “I’ll be going now and will let Mr. Ivanov know exactly what happened,” he said with a faint stress on exactly. “Have a good evening, sir, ma’am,” he added with a nod in our direction.
“Thanks for all your help, Brian,” I said with an equally faint stress on the all.
He gave me a slight smile. “Anytime, Ms. Crawford.” He turned and headed off toward the parking lot, pausing on the way to pick up and pocket the forgotten bag of brain chips.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Marcus asked, dropping his hands from my shoulders. “Why didn’t you call me?”
I bristled. Yep, here it was. “There wasn’t time to call,” I told him. “And Jane called Pietro, right?”
Marcus blew out an exasperated breath. “Jesus Christ, Angel, you didn’t know what you were doing, or who you were going after. Some drunk extra? I know you’re strong, but someone else could have handled it.” He said it all in a patronizing tone that slid right under my skin. “And what if it had turned out to be something worse?”
I’d planned to tell him about Philip—if not all the details about the broken wrist and such—but holy crap I was so not in the mood to get chewed out. Annoyed, I edged back from him. “Who else was gonna handle it? Someone who didn’t know it was a zombie and could’ve ended up a victim? I was the only one there who could do something.”
Marcus stared at me for a second. “Wait. It was a zombie zombie?”
I glared right back at him. “Yeah. It was a zombie made up like one of the zombie extras. I don’t know if he really was an extra or just pretending to be.” A zombie pretending to be a zombie pretending to be a zombie. Made me dizzy.
“So you didn’t go after a drunk dude…you went after a crazy, hungry zombie.”
“Yeah. And if I didn’t do something, someone was gonna get hurt,” I said. “And I was tanked.” I scowled at him. “C’mon, Marcus, I handled it, didn’t I?”
“Sure, this time,” he said, eyes dark with worry. “But it could have turned out differently.”
“So can walking out to get the damn mail,” I shot back. “Marcus, I handled it. Can’t you give me a little bit of credit for that?”
“Okay, okay,” he sighed, then gave me a smile. “You’re right. Forget I said it.”
Relief pushed back the annoyance. He was trying, and I had to give him props for that. And it was damn important. If we could ever get past this babying crap, we might actually have a chance to make it together. Okay, yeah, this time it had actually been a teensy weensy bit dangerous, but that wasn’t the point.
I gave him a smile in return, then wrinkled my nose. “Anyway, I’m pretty soaked now, so I guess that’s my sign that I’ve eaten enough.”
He slid an arm around me. “Ready to call it a day and head home? Pietro’s going to get Jane out of here as soon as he knows you’re okay, which I’m sure Brian has already told him by now.”
“Probably best.” I gave him a squeeze. “Thanks. I had a really great time. Even with zombie chasing.” And lots and lots to think about. Lots.
He chuckled. “I did too. Besides, I think I’d explode if I ate one more thing.”
I laughed as we headed for the parking lot. “Body parts everywhere.”
“Ewwwww. That would ruin some dinners,” he said, grinning.
“Nah,” I said. “I’d tell everyone it was part of the movie promo.”
“As long as I died for a noble cause.”
I gave a solemn nod. “Overeating is the noblest of causes.”
Chapter 6
I’d actually planned ahead for once, and swapped part of my eight a.m. to four p.m. shift with Jerry, the other full-time van driver, so that I didn’t have to come in so early in the morning after the late night out with Marcus. Jerry was an early riser who hated working nights, which meant he was more than happy to take the first half of my regular shift, and in return I agreed to be on call for him until midnight.
And so, of course, the call for the first body pickup of the day came in at two minutes past noon, and during a downpour like Niagara Falls.
The van’s windshield wipers slapped hard at the pouring rain, and I squinted to read street signs through the slight fog on the windows. A silver pickup crossed the intersection ahead, same make and model as the one that almost hit me on the movie set. The one Philip saved me from. I frowned. What the hell was that about? Save me, then be a total asshole like he’d been last night? It made no sense…
A piece clicked into place. It made no sense until I remembered what he said when he cut my jacket. Have to make sure the goods aren’t damaged. So he hadn’t saved me from the truck. He’d saved me for someone else. But who? Dr. Charish? Some new bad guy?