Even White Trash Zombies Get the Blues

Chapter 23

I lost my virginity to Randy on this football field, in this exact spot, though I didn’t remember it being quite so creepy back then. Tonight the lights were all off, and there was enough of a fog to make me jumpy as all hell, certain that any number of unnamed threats were about to jump out at me from the shadows. I’m the monster, I tried to remind myself. There was only one threat that I had to worry about, and his name was McKinney. And whoever he had with him, of course.

Didn’t help. Still completely freaked out.

On the other hand, I was tanked up on brains darn near as high as I’d ever been. Even though it was dark, I could see every blade of grass, hear the buzzing of the mosquitos, feel the low thrum of the engine of Ed’s truck from where it was idling farther down the street. A slight shift of movement from behind the bleachers caught my attention as surely as if the man back there had stood up and waved a flag. He had a rifle pointed at me. I was definitely going to get shot again. But with any luck the combination of zombie super-speed and the reserve of brains I had on hand would be enough to counteract the damage.

I sure as hell hoped so, because right now that was the only plan we had.

A breeze swirled past me, and I lifted my head, nostrils flaring like an animal as the wind brought the scent of two people. They were by the south end zone, and I recognized both scents. My dad and McKinney. So Ed was right, the sniper behind the bleachers was a new player. How many others were nearby?

Turning slowly I extended my zombie super senses as far as they could go, seeking out scents and movements. At least one more—over by the opposing side bleachers, and also with a rifle. Possibly more but the light wind wasn’t cooperating. Probably one rifle trained on me and one on my dad to keep me from simply grabbing him and bolting. Even with zombie super strength and speed I wouldn’t be able to avoid bullets while also shielding my dad.

Which meant that I was back to depending on the Power of Brains.

I clenched and unclenched my hands. A creak of metal alerted me, and I spun toward the south end zone to see my dad and McKinney walking through the gate. They paused at the goal line, then my dad continued toward me alone, shuffling in his usual gait but clearly doing his best to hurry. I breathed shallowly, straining my ears for anything unusual—the click of a trigger or a muttered order to fire.

Nothing but the shuffling of my dad’s feet over the grass. It seemed to take forever, but he finally made it across the field to me. I seized him in a hug. God, he felt so frail.

“You okay?” I asked, releasing him and raking my gaze over him.

He nodded, swallowed harshly. “Yeah. I’m fine. Now let’s get out of here, baby.”

“No, you have to keep walking,” I said, gesturing to the other end of the field. “A friend of mine is going to pick you up, and y’all have to get the hell away from here. Understand?” I could hear Ed’s truck rev as he began to ease toward the pick-up point.

He scowled. “I ain’t leaving you. You fuckin’ kidding? I’m your dad, goddammit.”

“Yeah, and I’m your daughter who needs to kick some ass but has to know you’re safe first, okay?” I gave him a hard look. He hesitated, and I knew he was remembering the time it was his ass I had to kick—or threaten to kick, at least.

“Please, Dad, you have to go,” I said urgently. “I have to know you’re all right.”

He hesitated, clearly agonized. He wanted to be there for me, help save the day. He’d dropped the ball too many times to count in the last few years, but he’d been there for me when it had counted most, when he had to make the choice between his wife and me.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “You have to go. It’s the right thing. I can’t…do what I have to do if you’re here.”

Swallowing hard, he pulled me into another fierce hug. “Love you, Angelkins. I’m so proud of you.” He let me go, gave a nod. “You go kick whatever ass needs kicking.”

“I will,” I said with a shaky smile. “Now please, go get to safety.”

It had to have been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he did it—kept walking and left me there in the middle of that field. I watched as Ed pulled up right by the gate and my dad climbed into the truck. I braced myself, and as soon Ed gunned the engine to get the hell out of there I broke into a sprint.

I knew I was fast, but the snipers must have been damn good. I felt two hits in my lower back, but I simply peeled my lips back in a feral smile and kept running. Sure, two shots would slow me down some, but…

I stumbled and went to my knees. My legs didn’t want to work properly. What the hell? I was so high on brains that should’ve barely caused a hitch in my stride. I fumbled to reach the bag in the side pocket of my pants, but my arms didn’t want to work either. Fear slammed through me as I slumped heavily onto my side. Numbness swept through me, but it wasn’t anything like the other times I’d been shot.

Not shot—tranqued, I realized in horror as I watched a white van speed across the field and stop in front of me. I had no choice but to watch since I couldn’t move or turn my head. If I’ve been drugged the parasite will take care of it, I tried to reassure myself. But I knew, with a growing sense of horror, that it wouldn’t be quickly enough. My senses were fading, and I felt the first stirrings of hunger, but that was probably my parasite doing its best to simply keep me alive. Why should it care if I couldn’t move right now?

McKinney and another man exited the van and approached. McKinney crouched in my line of sight while the other moved behind me. I could feel the second guy putting handcuffs on me or something similar. It was tough to be sure, since I had a Novocaine-type numbness throughout most of my body.

“Hello, sweetie,” McKinney said with a grin. “See? I kept my end of the bargain. And now you’re pumped full of enough animal tranquilizer to kill an elephant. I had a feeling that would be more effective—and so much less messy—than shooting you. My new partners are bringing a great deal to the table.” He gave a nod toward the other man and then gestured to—I assumed—the two snipers.

I couldn’t even blink, but apparently I was still able to glare daggers at him because he chuckled. “Fun times ahead, Angel. Fun times.”