White Trash Zombie Apocalypse (White Trash Zombie 3)

Of course then I looked at the raging water around us and went right back to being in Oh shit! mode.

“I’m going to connect you to Brian and leave the line open,” he went on. “You let him know if anything changes. And hang on to your dad.” I heard some clicks on the line.

“Angel?” That was Brian, calm and cool. “Can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah,” I said, pulse slamming as the house trembled beneath me.

“I have a helicopter headed your way very shortly,” he stated. “Should get to you in ten minutes, max. Has anything changed for you?”

“W-water’s higher.” Then I let out a squeal as the house shifted with a hard jerk. “I gotta go…house….” I hung up and shoved the phone into the bag. I didn’t expect it to survive this experience, but I had to at least try. Only lifeline I had at the moment.

“Dad! Put this in your jacket pocket.” I thrust my phone at him, and as soon as he took it, I stripped off my windbreaker, then unbuttoned my pants and shimmied them off as quickly as I could.

He shoved the bagged phone into his pocket and zipped it again, then gave me a baffled look. “Angel, what the hell you doin’?”

“I need to tie us together!” I told him as I knotted a leg of the cargo pants to an arm of the jacket. “Turn around!” I waited for him to cautiously shift position, then I scooched as close as I could, wrapped the pants and jacket around the both of us and tied a double knot in the other arm and leg.

I put my arms around him, locked my hands together. God, he felt so damn frail. “Hold onto my arms tight, okay?” My breath caught as the house shifted again. No way was it going to hold for another ten minutes, or however long it would take to get a helicopter here. At this point I simply hoped it would stay upright. And maybe a flock of seagulls will swoop down and pluck us off the roof and carry us to safety, my cynical side snarled.

But right now, I felt my dad’s heart hammering beneath my arms. He was as scared as I was, but he was doing his damndest not to show it, trying to be strong for me, doing what he could to protect me.

Dad’s hands tightened over mine. “You hang on, you hear me?” he ordered. “You’re gonna be okay, Angelkins.”

I rested my head against his back, closed my eyes, and breathed in everything about him. The stubborn streak a mile wide, the prickly attitude, the times he’d come through for me when it really mattered.

“I love you, Dad.”

I felt the vibration of a response, but his words were lost in a sudden loud snap and a horrible groaning creak as the house jerked hard to the right.

I clutched at him. “Here goes. Hold on!”

“What the hell d’ya think I’m doing?” he snapped back, and I damned near laughed with delight at his ornery spirit.

And then there was no more time for talk. With a final groan the house slid fully off its pilings, then tilted like a capsizing yacht. My dad reflexively scrabbled for purchase as we began to slide, but I kept my grip clamped around him. As we slid toward the water I tried to kick us away from the roof, suddenly filled with the image of us getting sucked under by the sinking house. Didn’t make a difference. The roiling current snatched us and threw us right into the thick of the maelstrom. Water closed over our heads, and I kicked frantically, but I couldn’t even tell which way was up. Something hard and heavy smacked into us, and I briefly lost my grip on my dad. Only the pants and jacket tied around us kept me from losing him entirely.

I got an arm around him again, broke the surface, coughing and sputtering. “Dad,” I gasped. “Dad!”

His arms hung limp in the water, but he gave a weak cough and moan, reassuring me that he was still breathing at least. I clung to him with one arm while I fought to keep both our heads above water by kicking my feet and desperately paddling with my free arm. A grey-toned world, its sounds oddly flat, told me that my senses had faded—meaning I was either hurt or tired as all hell. Damn good chance it was both. The current flung us about, and I whimpered in barely controlled terror.

Something hit me hard in the back, driving the breath from me. I faltered in my frantic treading but somehow managed to get us back to the surface after only a couple of seconds. The raging water swept us past houses, light poles, trees, and who-the-hell-knew what else. I had absolutely no way to tell where we were or how far the flood had carried us.

I made a flailing grab at a tree as we swept by and managed to get my arm hooked around a branch. A thup-thup sound penetrated my dulled senses and the roar of the water. The helicopter! But how the hell would they find us? We were nowhere near where my house used to be. Though I thought I could see the chopper approaching, I didn’t dare let go of my dad to wave for help. I didn’t trust our makeshift safety belt to hold him, and I needed every ounce of strength to keep his head above water.

“An…gel…kins?” I barely heard the moan.

“Here, Dad!” I gasped out. “I…hear a helicopter. Can you wave your arms…or something?”

He floundered an arm out of the water in a weak wave. “If I…die…”

“You’re not gonna die!” I yelled at him, though it came out as more of a strangled croak. Shit, my voice was going all raspy. I was going to start falling apart soon.

Without any warning, the branch I held gave way. I let out a startled shout as the current sucked us away, but only a second later something punched me in the back, and I jerked to a hard stop. Oddly, I didn’t have any problem staying afloat, but when I fumbled my free hand behind me to see what I was stuck on I realized why. I was wedged in the fork of a tree branch right below the surface. Except that one side of the fork was, well, in me.

Hunger flared hot and bright, telling me quite clearly that the branch had done some serious damage. Sudden worry gripped me, and I dragged a hand along the front of my torso, shuddering in relief once I confirmed that the branch hadn’t penetrated and hurt my dad as well.

He still struggled to wave the approaching helicopter down. I tried to lift the arm that wasn’t clamped around his waist, but my movements were too sluggish to be worth much. Instead I wrapped my legs around him and fought the intense rising hunger. I still had two bottles of brains in the side pocket of my pants, but there was zero way to get them out now without risking losing them or my grip on my dad.

The helicopter swept low toward us…and then over and past while I stifled a scream of frustration. They didn’t see us!