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

Braddock looked briefly pained. “Yes, sir. I understand your concerns regarding the security of this section, but I don’t know if Ms. Saber will support that decision.”

“She won’t,” Andrew said tightly. “But it’s the right move in order to maintain security. I’ll make sure she understands.”

Pierce turned away, murmured to Baldy to open the door beside us.

“Yes, sir,” Braddock said. “However, I still need to call her with an update.”

She wrinkled her nose as a choking wave of rot smell poured out of the open door. A gurgling yowl and the rattling of chains followed it.

Marcus! I stiffened, and only Brian’s hand tight on the back of my jacket kept me from leaping up to see him. Braddock’s gaze went beyond Andrew and into the room. She took a half step back, face suddenly ashen, and for a second I thought she was going to hurl. Had she never seen Saberton’s loving care of zombies?

“Of course I understand she needs to be told,” Andrew was saying. “I’m making the call to Dallas to coordinate transport, but it’s easier on everyone for me to wait and tell my mother face to face. You know that.”

Yes, please, get Nicole in my grasp again, I seethed.

But Braddock wasn’t listening to Andrew anymore. She stared into the room, her entire focus locked on its rotting occupant.

“Braddock!” Andrew snapped to get her attention. “Why are you down here anyway? You shouldn’t be in this far.” It was obvious he wasn’t at all happy that Thea Braddock was witness to what happened behind these closed doors.

“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir,” she replied, voice taut. “I had to come down when I heard the report that you were back.”

“You know my mother,” he said. “You do understand that it’s best I inform her of this move in person, yes?”

She didn’t immediately answer. Her gaze tracked from the doorway, down to Brian and me, then back to Andrew. “Yes, sir. I do,” she finally said. The unspoken “but” hung between them. She had questions. Her instincts told her something was seriously off. Maybe she was wondering why Pierce or Andrew hadn’t called ahead to let them know they were coming in with prisoners. Or maybe Pierce’s mannerisms didn’t match the Pierce Gentry she knew. Whatever it was, the seed of suspicion was getting a whole lot of fertilizer.

“I respect your opinion, sir,” Braddock said as she took a step back and out of my view. “But it’s my duty to notify Ms. Saber.” I heard the soft beep of a phone.

I didn’t need Brian’s quick double-hand squeeze to let me know it was time to move. Baring my teeth in a snarl, I surged up and vaulted out, though far less gracefully than I’d hoped, which turned my dash to Marcus’s door into more of a stagger. Brian was right on my heels, but none of us had considered the instability of the bin. Brian’s weight had stabilized it for my exit, but he didn’t have that advantage. The instant he came over the side the whole thing tipped to throw him off balance, then slammed back to the floor as his weight shifted off it.

Brian recovered in a zombie-speed flash, but Braddock had solid instincts and damn good reflexes. She had her gun half out of her purse even as the dumpster slammed back down. No doubt realizing Brian was the bigger threat—and apparently well aware it was pointless to tell a zombie, “Stop or I’ll shoot!”—she brought bag and all to bear on him and fired twice.

I yelped and ducked as the sound of the gunshots slammed through the corridor. Brian staggered back against the wall as both rounds hit him center chest. Fortunately for him, that was the best place to get hit, considering his body armor, though I had to give an instant of mad respect for Braddock’s shooting skill, especially with the purse in the way.

“Angel! Take care of Marcus!” Pierce tossed me the bag of brains, and the instant it left his hands he pulled a knife, spun, and sliced Baldy’s throat open in a spray of blood.

As I caught the bag, the guard gurgled, clutched at his throat, and crumpled. Braddock got off another shot that seared a line across Pierce’s shoulder, but he retaliated with zombie speed and stepped into a vicious side kick directly on her injured arm. She let out a choked cry as she crashed back into a partially open door then tumbled out of sight into an unlit room.

Down the corridor past Brian, the first guard grabbed his tranq gun and pointed it our way. I heard a dart skitter off the wall as I turned toward Marcus’s open cell door. The guard fired again, and I distantly heard the thuk sound of a dart hitting flesh and Brian’s grunt of pain. On my other side, as if from far away, I heard Andrew curse then saw him bolt toward the opposite end of the corridor and the exit door. But the instant I took in the sight of Marcus everything else seemed to retreat.

Marcus stood chained to the wall like a storybook ogre—naked, shackles at wrists, ankles, neck, and another chain wrapped around his waist. His arms were bent at odd angles and seemed to have too many joints. Rotted flesh peeled away from bones where the chains bit into him, and black blood dripped from a deep gash in his thigh. His breath came in ugly, wet rattles, and drool streamed from the corner of his mouth to string over his chest.

Eyes wild with hunger, he lunged at me a with wailing scream that sliced right through my core, then slammed to an ugly, flesh-shredding stop at the limit of his chains.

“Angel. Angel!” That was Pierce. “Get Andrew!” he shouted as he sprang toward the tranq wielding guard.

Cursing, I tossed the open bag of brains to Marcus, pausing only long enough to make sure he caught it before I pushed off into a sprint to chase down Andrew. Behind me I heard Marcus’s growl and the squish slurp of him devouring

brains.

I tackled Andrew before he made it to the door, then hauled him right back up with the idea of using him as a handy dandy human shield. Pierce dropped the other guard and turned our way, even as Braddock emerged from the room and ran at me, gun in hand and face twisted in pain and determination. A stupid little squeal slipped out of me at the sight of the security chief charging in my direction, and I thrust Andrew at her as hard as I could.

Braddock caught Andrew and staggered back a couple of steps which gave me all the time I needed to dash past her. She lifted her gun again, but I dodged to the other side of the blue mini-dumpster and shoved it at her to knock her off balance.

“I have this,” Pierce said as Andrew went sprawling. “Check on Kyle.” He gestured to the next door as he slapped our last three brain packets into my hand, then shifted his attention to Braddock and Andrew.

Hands shaking from adrenaline, I yanked a blood-drenched ring of keys from Baldy’s belt and got Kyle’s door open. I steeled myself for a sight similar to Marcus: broken, twisted, rotting, mindless, and slavering—

It was a thousand times worse.