How the White Trash Zombie Got Her Groove Back (White Trash Zombie 4)

“They will if you back me up,” I said with a touch of exasperation. “Look, it’s just gonna be a few days. Maybe a week at most.” Godalmighty, I hoped it wouldn’t take more than that. “Dad, the same people who took me that time have some other zombies now.”

“Shit. Why d’ya have to get mixed up with all of that again?”

I sighed. “Because if these zombies disappear, then the whole group will probably fall apart, or at least be really weakened. Plus, if the bad company wins, then all the zombies are screwed. Whaddya think will happen if they start outing us? You think the rednecks around there will look at me with loving kindness?”

“Well, I—” My dad began, then paused. The sound of a woman’s murmured voice in the background sent a jolting shock through me. A second later I heard the distinct sound of the mouthpiece being covered, and my dad speaking, muffled. Then another rustling as he uncovered it again. “Sorry,” he began.

“Dad,” I interrupted, while I tried to keep my voice from shaking. “Is someone with you?” Damn it all, I’d been spilling my guts about zombies. What the hell had I said? How much could be heard? “Who is it? Who’s with you?”

“Hang on.”

More muffled sounds, then the closing of a door. Sounded like he’d left the room.

“Um, yeah, there’s someone here,” he said, actually sounding a bit sheepish. “It’s Tammy. The lady I went out with last night.”

“Did she hear what I told you?” I demanded, heart pounding. “Dad, no one else can know about this stuff!”

“Shit, Angel, I’m not stupid!” he growled. “She didn’t hear nothin’.”

“Sorry.” I grimaced. “It’s just—” I blinked, as a second horrible thing occurred to me. “Wait, did you sleep with her?”

“Not a whole lot of sleeping,” he said slyly.

“Oh my GOD, Dad! On the first date?”

His dry laughter didn’t improve my mood.

“Whatever,” I grumbled. “Shit. We’ll talk about this when I get back. I gotta go.”

“You be careful, Angelkins,” he said. “And you better call me back soon.”

“I will,” I replied. “Love you.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Love you too.”

I made my goodbyes and hung up then shuddered. I knew it was cliché to be squicked out by a parent having sex, but Ugh! Doing my best to push away all thoughts of anything related to my dad’s sex life, I dropped the last of my quarters into the phone and dialed Allen Prejean’s number. This was not going to be a fun call, especially since I knew I was probably waking him up as well.

But I was wrong. When I hung up, I not only had Allen’s approval without hassle for the time off, but his best wishes for my aunt—even though he hadn’t yet had his first cup of coffee. How weird was that?

Too weird, I dec

ided as I walked back to the others. But I’d take it.

Only three other cars were in the Waffle Shack parking lot, which meant we pretty much had our pick of the tables. I didn’t even try to take the seat by the wall, and simply accepted that if terrorists stormed the restaurant at six a.m. on a Thursday, I’d be dead meat. I was okay with that.

The waitress came by to take our orders. I kept my focus on the dollar menu and what cash I had left, and when it was my turn I ordered coffee and a Waffle Shack Snack, whatever the hell that was.

Philip nudged my foot under the table. I gave him an It’s cool look.

“That’s all you’re having?” Naomi asked with a tilt of her head as the waitress left. “The food looks really good.”

Yeah, like back in high school when Miriam Carter and a couple of her friends showed up in the lunchroom with bags of burgers and fries from Bayou Burger and told me I could have some for a dollar. She knew how good those burgers smelled, and she knew I didn’t have a dollar. That particular incident ended with me shoving my bologna sandwich in Miriam’s face. Probably best if I didn’t try that with Naomi.

“I couldn’t get money from the ATM,” I told her, trying hard not to sound as defensive as I felt. “As soon as the banks open I’ll call and see what the deal is.” Shit. I should’ve asked my dad if he’d taken money out.

She rolled her eyes and waved to get the waitress’s attention. “Get what you want. We’ll sort it out later. It’ll probably be hours before we stop again.”

I stared at her. “Did you just fucking roll your eyes at my money problems?” The waitress started our way, but I waved her off again.