My Life as a White Trash Zombie

Chapter 31

Making my getaway was the first step. But now I had a bag full of frozen brains, and this was south Louisiana. Even in late October it could get pretty warm during the day, and I sure as hell didn’t want to lose a stash of this magnitude.

I found an open gas station that sold cheap styrofoam coolers and bought way more ice than I probably needed. I pulled the plastic bags of brains out of the cardboard boxes so that I could fit them all into the cooler, and in short order I had the whole lot iced down. I figured I had maybe a day or so before they thawed.

Okay, Angel, you have a cooler full of stuff that is vital to your fucking survival. Which meant that I needed to make some hard decisions. Hard decisions weren’t my strength. Avoiding them was my usual method, but that would prove pretty disastrous here.

As far as I could tell, my current options were to a) magically find an affordable and non-skeevy apartment within the next day, b) take Randy up on his offer, c) go back and deal with my dad, or d) rent a storage unit and sleep in my car until I could figure out a better solution.

I returned to the same spot in the park where I’d waited before going to see Kang, leaned the seat back and closed my eyes. It wasn’t really that hard to make a decision, I realized. Sure, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be planning out how to handle being homeless, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was really the only option that left me with any self-respect. I wasn’t prepared to deal with my dad, I couldn’t afford an apartment, and living with Randy was . . . well, there was so much baggage attached to that it wasn’t even funny.

Did I even love him anymore? I frowned. I’d asked him if he loved me but hadn’t really thought about the other half of the equation.

I don’t think I do. A strange pang went through me. I’d called him my boyfriend for so many years that I suddenly found it hard to believe that he might not be anymore. So what was I supposed to do now? Break up with him? Or just let it drift away?

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew I was jerking awake at the sound of my cell phone, and sun was shining right onto me. I squinted against the glare and fumbled for my phone. This spot that was so lovely and shady later in the afternoon was in blinding sun at—I glanced at my watch—nine A.M. Wow, I must have been wiped out. Maybe my body needed the rest to recover from being so rotted?

I finally dug my phone out of my purse, more than a little surprised to see Randy’s ID. Some of that synchronicity Dr. Leblanc was talking about.

“Hey, babe,” he said after I answered. “Where y’at? I got an idea that might help you out with your whole living situation.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face. No doubt he was going to ask me again to live with him. I knew I didn’t want to, but I’d been hoping to avoid actually telling him that. Confrontations weren’t really my thing. But why would he be calling me up to press the issue? Pursuing me wasn’t his thing either. “Um. I’m in Tucker Point. What’s up?”

“Thought of a way you could get your own place.” He sounded pleased with himself and a little amused, which put my defenses on alert. A tiny knot of tension unwound as I realized he wasn’t going to pressure me about moving in with him, though a silly little twinge of disappointment replaced it. Even though I’d admitted to myself that it was over between us, it would have been nice to be wanted like that.

I took a deep breath, pushed the stupid disappointment aside. “Randy, I swear to god, if this is some big joke about me giving blow jobs in the Pillar’s parking lot—”

“No! It’s not that. Meet me at Double Ds. I’ll tell ya what I got.”

I hesitated, then sighed. “Sure.” What else did I have to do? Maybe he had a line on a place I could rent that wasn’t complete shit.

I made a quick detour to a McDonalds and did a quick washing up in their bathroom. I changed clothes as well—into cargo pants and long-sleeved shirt, simply because those were the first things I grabbed out of the bags containing my worldly possessions. There was no way to wash my hair, so I simply brushed it back as neat as I could manage. If this thing with Randy didn’t pan out into a place to live, my next move was going to be to join a gym. Not because I had any desire to get fit—which didn’t really matter anymore now that I was a zombie—but for less than a hundred bucks a month I’d have a place to shower and change clothes every day. I’d still have to sleep in my car, though. And I’d have to buy a freezer and keep my brains in a storage unit.

Okay, so what if I’m too broke to live on my own, I thought fiercely as I pulled into the parking lot of the diner. It’ll suck, but I’ll get through it. Still, it would definitely make my day if Randy could find me a place to sleep other than my car.

After making sure the cooler was tightly closed in the trunk, I headed inside, inhaling deeply of the scent of waffles and eggs and coffee. As tanked up on brains as I was, breakfast was going to taste fantastic.

Randy was in the booth farthest from the door, seated so that he could see anyone coming in. I slid onto the cracked vinyl seat across from him and gave the waitress a smile as she stepped up.

“Coffee, orange juice, three pancakes, two eggs over easy, bacon, and grits,” I rattled off, hiding a grin at the memory of Ed ordering a similarly massive amount of food.

“Damn, Angel, when did you last eat?” Randy asked with a laugh as the waitress scribbled down the order and hurried away. “There’s no way you’ll eat all that.”

I shrugged. “I’m hungry.” The hunger for real and normal food felt insanely tame compared to the clawing of the Hunger. And when I was Hungry, it was tough to eat real food since I could barely taste anything. Food only tasted decent for about one day out of three unless I had an unlimited supply of brains. I wasn’t about to waste this opportunity to actually enjoy it. And this place had good, southern, comfort food, dripping with butter and calories—worth gorging on. Why the hell couldn’t I crave something less weird than brains? Chocolate zombie, that would be cool. Must have chocolate . . . .

I turned the giggle into a cough, then looked over at Randy. “Okay, what gives?” I asked.

He started to speak and then paused as the waitress returned and poured my coffee. I added milk and sugar, cupped the mug in both hands and sipped. Coffee zombie would make more sense. I looked at him expectantly.

“Damn, you look like you’ve never had coffee before.”

I smiled slightly. “I’ve decided to appreciate the good things in life.” Especially since I wasn’t always able to experience them. Besides, I needed to make sure I continued to eat real food to keep me from needing the brains quite so often, right? Kang’s warning about burning up the brains came back to me, and my throat tightened briefly at the reminder of him. Kang and I hadn’t been the best of friends or anything like that, but I felt as if I’d lost a companion in arms or something equally dorky.

I was on my own now with this whole zombie thing. Flying solo. Fuck it. I could do this.

Randy gave a shrug. “So I was talking with Clive and telling him about your job. And some of the stuff you told me.”

I looked at him blankly. “What stuff? About the bodies?”

He leaned forward and a chill of foreboding came over me. “No, I mean what you were telling me about,” he lowered his voice and flicked a glance around, “the pills.”

I kept my hands wrapped around the mug as an uncomfortable knot began to form in my stomach. “Yeah?” I couldn’t make myself say anything else. I knew where he was going with this.

“Yeah. He said that—” He abruptly paused and straightened as the waitress returned and slid a plate of pancakes and a bowl of grits onto the table in front of me.

“Eggs and bacon’ll be right out, hon,” she said with a smile before scurrying off again.

I carefully set my mug down and picked up my fork, controlling the tremor in my hand as best I could.

Randy kept his voice low. “He already knew about the stuff with the CO people seizing the pills. He said that all you had to do was slide some of that stuff his way and he’d take care of you. You wouldn’t have to do any selling or anything like that. There’s no way you could get into trouble. I mean, they destroy the stuff anyway, right? So what difference does it make?”

I stayed silent, carefully cutting off pieces of pancake with my fork and bringing them to my mouth. The very act of chewing and swallowing seemed strangely exaggerated. “I’d get in trouble if I was caught taking the drugs,” I finally said.

“So don’t get caught!” he replied with a laugh, as if that solved everything. Then he cocked his head. “Angel, what’s the deal? You said yourself that they destroy the stuff. It’s not stealing from anyone who needs it. And you do need the money. What, you’re gonna live with your white trash loser dad for the rest of your life?”

“He’s not a white trash loser,” I snapped.

Stark disbelief filled his eyes. “Right. Y’all live in a fucking shack, he smacks you around, and he drinks all the time.” He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry I insulted your dad.” Then he spoiled the apology by rolling his eyes. “But you need to think about you. Clive’ll take care of all the hard work and give you half what he makes.”

I put my fork down. Suddenly the pancake didn’t taste so great. “And what do you get?”

Wary surprise flashed across his face, then he gave me a wry shrug and smile. “I get a small cut, too. I’m like the middleman, see? Since I’m hooking you two up and all.”

I gave a short nod. Maybe . . . maybe I wouldn’t have to be homeless. A weird relief filled me at the thought, and I suddenly realized how nervous I’d been at the thought of having to sleep in my car. Maybe I was being stupid and reckless to think that I could make it on my own. “How . . . .” I cleared my throat and tried again. “How much does he think he can get?”

Randy spread his hands. “That depends on what you can get him. But you know how much the stuff goes for on the street.” He tapped the table, leaning forward a bit more. “Babe, I’m thinking about you. You should too. Hell, this doesn’t have to be a long-term thing. Maybe for only a few weeks? In that time you could get more than you’d earn at the Coroner’s Office in a fucking year. Then you wouldn’t have to keep working there.” He chuckled. “And you wouldn’t smell like dead bodies anymore.”

His words were like a bucket of ice water. I took a shuddering breath. How could I even be considering this? I had everything to lose. Yeah, Randy was right. I needed to think about myself.

“I remember one time when another buddy of yours hooked me up with a really great deal.” I said. “I couldn’t lose. Remember? Five hundred bucks, and I got a car that was practically new.” I met his eyes with a hard gaze of my own. “Remember that? Remember me going to jail?”

He winced. “Yeah, well, that was fucked up. Everything that coulda gone wrong did.”

I shook my head. “No, the first thing that went wrong is that I believed something that was too good to be true.”

He let out an exaggerated breath. “Shit happens, but this—”

“No, Randy!” I interrupted. “Shit doesn’t just happen . Someone has to make a boneheaded decision first. And y’know what? I happen to like my job.”

Anger darkened his eyes. “Look, Angel, I’ve put up with a lot of your fucked up, neurotic shit over the years. I’ve given you crash space whenever you’ve wanted it, and listened to you whine about how your folks were so awful. You’re being pretty selfish here.”

“Selfish?” The word exploded from me. I was aware that people near us had turned to look, but I didn’t care. “Jesus, Randy, if I was caught, I’d go to jail! Did you even think about that?”

“Don’t give me that holier-than-thou crap,” he said, sneering. “Clive says you haven’t bought anything from him in almost two months. And there’s no way you went cold turkey and quit using. So I know you’ve been skimming those pills from work. What’s the deal? You’re already selling ’em on your own? You don’t want to give me a cut after everything I’ve fucking done for you?”

Fury seared through me, white and hot. “Don’t you ever fucking accuse me of that,” I said, voice low, intense. “I’ve never stolen anything from work, especially not drugs. I’m not using any more. I’m trying to turn my life around. Maybe you don’t understand that, but that’s not my problem, and I’m not going to let you drag me down anymore.”

Randy let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Me, drag you down? That’s rich. Man, you’ve become one hell of an arrogant little bitch. Oh yeah, you’re such a model of goddamn virtue. Is that why you went off and fucked that guy you met at Pillars the last time we were there? How much didja make off him?”

I stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

His eyes narrowed. “When you left with that dickwad who’d been buying you drinks all night. I went out to see what the fuck was going on, and your drunk ass was all over him. You told me you wanted a good hard ride. And then the two of you peeled out in his Porsche.”

Bitter flashes of memory clicked into place. “I don’t remember much from that night . . . but I didn’t fuck him.”

He snorted. “Yeah, sure.”

I shook my head, feeling almost dizzy for an instant. “No,” I said, more memories suddenly crowding in. I hadn’t tried to walk home from the bar. “No, I was talking about his car. I’d never ridden in a Porsche before.” I dragged my eyes up to him. “You’re the one who’d been ignoring me all night for that other twit. He bought me a couple of drinks.” I stared at him as shock and betrayal surged through me. “I was falling down drunk, and you let me go off with him? Did you know him? Did I? It didn’t occur to you to watch out for me?”

Randy’s scowl deepened, but there was a flicker of shame in his eyes. “I thought you knew him,” he muttered. He was lying. He’d known perfectly well that I’d had no idea who the guy was.

I wrapped my hands around my mug. “I think you need to go, Randy,” I said, rather amazed at how calmly I was able to get the words out.

His brow creased in puzzlement. “Angel . . . ?”

I spoke quietly, but with the entire force of my will behind it. “Let me rephrase it: Go fuck yourself.” This was the closure that I’d been wanting and then some. “I’m not going to steal drugs for you or anyone else, and if you try to start a rumor that says I am, I will Fuck. You. Up.”

He drew back. Maybe he could see in my eyes that I had no fear of him in any way and that I meant every word. Hell, I was dead already. I ate brains, for god’s sake.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he mumbled, but there was no heat in his words.

I allowed myself a small smile. “No. It’s much worse than that. Now please, go fuck yourself. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

It was obvious he wanted to say something else—some sort of stinging retort that would make me reconsider, cause me to doubt myself. But he didn’t. Maybe he knew he’d be wasting his breath.

Slamming up from the table, he settled for storming out of the diner. I didn’t turn to watch him leave. I could hear his muttered cursing as he walked away. A couple of seconds later I heard the ringing of the bell over the front door.

I picked up my fork and continued to eat my pancakes as more and more pieces of memory fell into place. By the time I finished breakfast I knew where to start looking for the rest.