White Trash Zombie Apocalypse (White Trash Zombie 3)

“Ah hell,” he said, then moved up to smash me against his chest in his own massive hug.

I made an oof sound. “Can’t…breathe,” I gasped dramatically. Derrel released me with a gruff snort and shaky smile.

“Is your dad all right?” Nick asked, expression serious.

“He’s okay. Small bump on the head but nothing bad,” I told them.

“What do you need?” he asked. “What can we do?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m not even sure where to begin. I guess I need a copy of my ID from my personnel file so I can get a new phone and debit card and, hell, new ID though that’ll have to wait ’til Monday. And I need to go to my storage unit, and—”

Derrel held up a hand, stopping my babble. “You need a ride?”

“I’d love one,” I replied, relieved.

“I may be slow on the uptake,” Derrel said, “but I can at least play chauffeur.”

Nick looked as if he wished he’d thought to offer a ride first, but he managed an encouraging smile anyway. “Angel, when you get your new phone, be sure to call and let me know what you need.”

“I will,” I said, moving to him and giving him a hug. “Thanks.”

He gave a little shrug. “No biggie,” he said, trying to be nonchalant and utterly failing. He headed to the investigator’s office without another word. Derrel watched him go, slight frown puckering his wide forehead, then turned back to me.

“At your service, darlin’,” he said with a slight bow.

I smacked him on the upper arm. “Don’t make me start quoting Driving Miss Daisy.”

He chuckled. “Y’know, if I squint you look a bit like Jessica Tandy.”

“Oh my god.” I laughed. “Shut up and help me break into the personnel files.”

Chapter 22

Once again I found myself grateful that I lived in a small town. I expected to have to go through all sorts of hassle to get a replacement phone, since the DMV was closed and my only photo ID was a photocopy of my actual driver’s license. But the guy at the phone store remembered me from when I’d been in a few weeks before, and I scored new phones for my dad and me with practically zero hassle. Unfortunately the brand new phone had barely any charge and, since I actually wanted to use my phone, I ended up buying a car charger as well so that I could give it some quick juice in Derrel’s Durango.

The bank people were less accommodating and weren’t keen to give me a new debit card without something vaguely official. However, they cheerfully accepted my dad’s cash for deposit, though I remembered to hold back a couple hundred. Until I had an ID, I wouldn’t be able to withdraw once it was officially deposited.

The storage unit was my last stop. I worried that Derrel would want to come in with me to help get stuff, which would have been awkward as hell since, well, y’know, freezer full of brains. I assured him I wasn’t planning on taking anything out since I didn’t have any place to put it, so there was nothing to lift or carry, and told him all I wanted to do was look for a scrapbook I thought I’d stored a couple of months ago. I spun a line about how it would ease my mind to know that something personal had survived the flood and, luckily, he bought my lie and waited in the car while I went inside. Of course then I got stupidly bummed out because there wasn’t a damn thing in my storage unit but a goddamn freezer full of brains and some pork ribs, which meant that yeah, everything we’d owned really was gone.

Still have brains at least, I told myself. Could be a helluva lot worse.

I stuffed three bags of frozen brains into each of my side pockets, then instantly regretted the fact that I now had only the thin fabric of my cargo pants between me and frozen brains. Yeah, totally comfortable.

I returned to the Durango, gave Derrel a big smile. “It was there!” I lied.

“Awesome!” he said with a wide grin. Grief of loss swept through me again. Goddammit, but the next time I got some memorabilia I was going to make sure it was stored someplace safe.

“Can you spare me a few more minutes?” I asked as I unplugged the phone from the car charger. “I need to make a phone call now that I have a bit of charge.”

“Take your time,” Derrel said in his easygoing manner. I gave him a smile and walked a few steps away from the Durango.

I dialed Pietro’s number, once again glad that it was so close to my ex-boyfriend’s number and therefore easy to remember.

He picked up on the second ring. “Angel. I’ve been waiting to hear from you. How are you? I’ve been very concerned. I only recently found out that Marcus didn’t pick you up from the shelter yesterday.”

“Hey, Pietro,” I said. “I’ve sure as hell been better. It’s cool about Marcus. I saw the paper this morning.” I shifted the phone to the other ear. “I can’t thank you enough for sending the helicopter. I don’t think my dad woulda made it if not for that.”

“I was more than happy to help,” he replied. “But I’m so very sorry you lost so much.”