White Trash Zombie Apocalypse

Chapter 21

To my surprise, I managed to get back to sleep without any problem. Maybe my subconscious accepted that if Philip or any of his cronies were going to mess with me they’d had ample opportunity to do so when I followed him out. Or maybe I was simply tired as all hell. Either way, I slept like the dead until around eight in the morning, and only woke up then because another goddamn fire truck went by on the street outside.

A few more boxes of donated clothing had been brought by, and I managed to snag more stuff for my dad as well as a couple of t-shirts for myself. I even found cargo pants in my size, or rather in a teenage boy size that fit me well enough. After the clothing search I grabbed a quick shower in the girls’ locker room, silently grateful that my parasite would take care of any godawful foot fungus I caught from the grungy tile floors.

My dad was peering at a newspaper when I came back out. “Have you eaten this morning?” I asked him as I dragged a comb through my wet hair.

“Yeah. Some fancy cinnamon roll thing.”

“They have eggs and bacon too,” I told him. “You should try and eat some protein.” I tugged on shoes and socks. “I’m gonna see if I can get a ride in to work and then the phone store to get us new phones.” And the DMV. And probably the bank too, I thought. I needed a new debit card, and wanted to deposit the money he’d given me. Holy crap, but there was a lot to do. Good thing most of it was in semi-reasonable walking distance from downtown. Sure, I wanted to find out more about why Philip was pretending to be an extra and who the hell the “subjects” were he was talking about, but taking care of my dad and me had to take priority right now.

“You need anything while I’m gone?” I asked.

Dad shook his head, turned the page in his newspaper. “Don’t need shit.”

That’s when I saw it. A picture of Marcus at the bottom of the front page under all the stuff about the flood. And a headline that read, Heroic Rescue Saves Family of Three.

I snatched the paper away from my dad. “And when were you planning on telling me about this?” I asked, as I hurried to read the brief article.

“What? About that cop?”

“You should have said something,” I said with a scowl. He muttered something I decided to ignore while I focused on reading.

The article praised Marcus for diving into a flooded drainage canal to save a young family from certain death after their car went off the road shortly after dark. Unfortunately, it continued, the officer sustained a broken leg and had to be transported to the hospital for treatment.

I silently cursed the lack of details, but exhaled in relief. A broken leg was nothing but an inconvenience for a zombie. And most importantly, it explained why he hadn’t come by last night.

I hesitated, then thrust the paper back at my dad, gave him a hug. “It’s all gonna be okay,” I said. “We’re still alive and that’s what counts.”

His eyes lifted to mine. “That’s good, Angelkins. Everything’s gonna be just fine. You and me.”

“Damn straight,” I said. “We’re too mean to keep down for long.”

“When you coming back?”

“I’ll probably be a few hours, I figure,” I told him. “Hope to be back by noon or so, though.” My brow furrowed. “You gonna be okay? I heard someone say they’re getting a TV in here to show movies.”

“I know how to take care of myself,” he said with a scowl. “You go do whatever you gotta do.”

I scowled right back at him, but I couldn’t help but be perversely glad that his orneriness was returning.

It didn’t take long to find a volunteer who was more than happy to give me a ride to the Coroner’s Office. Once there, she even gave me her number so that I could call when I needed a ride back.

It took me a few seconds and several brain cells to figure out why the front door of the office was locked, then I remembered it was a Saturday. Crap. Guess I won’t be going to the DMV today. Since my keycard was at the bottom of the swamp by now, I used the number pad of the lock to gain entry.

My footsteps echoed through the quiet halls as I continued through the main building and into the morgue. I planned on finding a way to get to my storage unit, but if there were any available brains to be had here, I’d be stupid to pass them up. With all the weirdness going on with Philip and Saberton, I wanted to be tanked.

But when I pulled the cooler door open, I stopped in my tracks and stared in shock. Body bags—had to be over a dozen of them. All three stretchers were full, as were the shelves along the walls.

The flood. Oh my god. These are people who died in the flood.

My dad could have easily ended up in one of those. If I hadn’t been able to call Pietro for a rescue, or if I hadn’t been home, there was no way he’d have made it out. Goosebumps skimmed over me, and I quickly backed out of the cooler and shut the door. My gaze went to the whiteboard on the wall by the cutting room. Three had already been autopsied. Dr. Leblanc had probably worked late last night.

So far the only brains I’d refused to consume were children and friends—like when Marianne, Ed’s girlfriend, had been murdered. I’d long ago lost my respect for the dead, at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. But I still winced with a razor-sharp stab of regret as I went back into the cooler, found the body of Bern, Alfred B/M 78 YO, and feasted on his brain.

After I tanked up on both brains and guilt, I fired up the morgue computer and tried to decipher the instructions for applying for disaster aid. After a frustrating half hour, I decided that, for the sake of my own sanity, I needed to get someone to help me out. Since the flood had affected relatively few people, its victims didn’t qualify for federal aid, which left only state agencies with their bizarre requirements and confusing instructions.

The search for a new trailer didn’t go any better. Or rather, I had no trouble finding all sorts of trailers and dealers online, but the prices for anything that wasn’t a roach-infested falling-down hovel were helluva lot more than I’d expected.

More than a little demoralized, I headed back into the main building.

“Angel?”

I looked up to see Derrel step out of the investigator’s office. He gave me a relieved smile. “Angel, so good to see you!”

I mustered a smile. “Hey, big guy.”

“I’m sorry your area flooded,” he said as he moved toward me, face clouded with concern. “It must really be a mess. I’ll be happy to come help with some cleanup on my next day off.” He tilted his head. “Hey, how’d the exam go?”

I blinked at him stupidly. Exam? Cleanup? What was there to clean up? “What exam?”

“The GED? Wasn’t that this morning?”

A sick jolt went through me. “Oh my god,” I breathed. “I totally forgot about that.”

Derrel cringed. “Oh, sorry. Yeah, I guess you weren’t able to make it.” Then he flashed a smile. “But I know you’d have aced it.”

“Yeah,” I said, my throat constricting. The goddamn GED. All this time studying, and then I missed the test. One more thing the flood took away from me. “I guess so.”

Behind Derrel, the front door opened and Nick came through. His eyes went straight to me, and then he walked right past Derrel and gathered me into a hug.

“I’m so so sorry,” he murmured with such utter compassion and genuine sympathy that I did the only thing possible.

I fucking burst into tears. And then I couldn’t stop. Nick held me and gently rubbed my back while I lost it on his shoulder. All this time I’d managed to be tough and strong and stoic and all full of positive thinking, and Nick’s damn hug completely undid me.

“I was so worried,” Nick said, still hugging me. And damn it, it wasn’t creepy or grabby or anything. Simply supportive and comforting. “I just got back from…your place.”

I sniffled. “You mean my empty lot? It’s gone. All gone.” Behind him I saw Derrel standing there with an increasingly perplexed expression.

“I know. I saw.” He gently released me and pulled back to look into my face.

“Wait, Angel,” Derrel said, shock and disbelief heavy in his voice. “Your house? You lost your house? Oh my god. I didn’t know. I thought you only had a foot of water or so.” He shook his head. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.”

I wiped at my eyes and nodded. “Lost the whole damn thing. We had to climb onto the roof.” I tried to smile. “But we got a helicopter ride out of it, so that was cool, y’know.”

“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.”