White Trash Zombie Gone Wild (28 page)

“Angel. Wiggle your fingers.”

Silly Dr. Nikas. Far away, muffly, Dr. Nikas. Wiggly. No fingers to wiggly.

“Angel.”

Warm. Weightless. Weird. Angel. That's meeee.

“Increase the voltage.”

Voltage. 'Lectricity. Tingly. Stingy.

Bright.

“Her eyes are open. Any change in the readings?”

“Fluctuating.”

What the hell? Where am I? I can't move. Dr. Nikas?!

“Heart rate increasing. Twenty-six. Thirty-four. Forty.”

“Angel. Wiggle your fingers.”

I'm trying! I can't feel my hands. Do I have hands? Can't feel anything. Brain is tingling. Everything's blurry like I'm looking through—

Slug snot. I'm in slug snot! Shit!

“Heart rate forty-four.”

Jacques, Dr. Nikas, I can't move! What happened? Why am I in the coffin tank?

“Angel.” A shape, a hand, wiggling in front of my eyes. “Blink.”

I'm trying, I swear. Fuck. I see you. I
see
you.

“Holding steady at forty-four.”

“Take her down again. She's not ready.”

Yes, I am! I'm right here. I can hear you. I can see. Don't.

•   •   •

Fish tanks ran the length of my kitchen counters. The call of seagulls and the
crash-hiss
of gentle surf drifted in through the window. Nice and peaceful. I hummed as I moved from tank to tank feeding hungry fish. French fries for the blue ones. Popcorn for the big red ones. Brussel sprouts for the yellow fishies that looked like my dad. Brain chunks for Judd's head floating in a tank all by itself.

I jerked awake, breathing hard. An expanse of beach spread before me, complete with gorgeous sunset, rolling waves, and palm trees. No fish tanks. No Judd.

A dream. Just a stupid, horrible dream. My breathing settled, but confusion rose as I looked around. I was propped in a cushy bed in a windowless room. The screen for an ambiance immersion system took up the entire wall in front of me, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled the others.

It had to be one of Dr. Nikas's rooms, but that made no sense. I wiggled my fingers then tried to lift my hand, but my arm was stiff, wrapped in gauze. A nameless horror crept through me.
I'm supposed to be dead
. Wasn't I? Why couldn't I remember?

I struggled to sit up without success. I heard a knock on the door, then Dr. Nikas stepped into the room. “Angel?”

I sagged in relief. “What happened? I'm . . . alive.”

“Indeed you are.” A genuine smile lit his face. “Don't try to move. Tomorrow, perhaps.” He pulled bandages aside and injected something near my collar bone. I expected a poke or sting, but felt only a brief wave of warmth. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Like I could sleep for a year.”

His eyes crinkled. “Do you know my name?”

“Dr. Nikas? Ariston Nikas.” The whisper of relief in his eyes made me suspect there'd been a time when I hadn't known it. Prickly warmth spread up my neck and down through my torso, and hazy memory woke like a fire stirred to life. “Wait. I was in Kang's tank.” Dread swept through me. “Was I just a
head
? How long has it been? Did I . . . regrow?”

“The medicine I just gave you will help your memory.” He sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand. “It's only Friday. Three days since Mardi Gras.”

Mardi Gras. The sickening feel of my arm ripping off shuddered through my mind. “I was in
pieces
. Lots of pieces.”

“We recovered your head and most of your torso. The V12 prevented normal regeneration. But you did indeed regrow.” He paused. “With assistance.”

“Slug snot.” I nodded slowly. “I remember warm slug snot. And electricity.”

“Modifications to incorporate a variation of the African salve Allen Prejean told you about. Without it, your regrowth would have taken months as opposed to mere days.”

The door eased open. Marla padded in, tail wagging, and sat beside Dr. Nikas. The sight of her triggered a flood of memories. “Rosario! What happened to him? Did you get him?”

“He's locked down and sedated. Post surgery from broken ribs.” He reached to scratch the dog's ears. “Marla follows me around when she isn't lying beside his bed.”

And Dr. Nikas didn't mind one bit, if the mushy smile he gave Marla was any indication. A yawn snuck up on me, and I fought to keep my eyes open. “Rosario was going to whistle-blow on Saberton. Expose us right along with them.”

He squeezed my hand. “You stopped him, Angel. Well done.”

“Almost didn't.” I grimaced. “The plan went tits up when Rosario took out Bear. What tipped him off?”

“Rosario noted your stop at the Bear's Den and the subsequent loss of your GPS tracking signal. When Bear approached him at the festival, he smelled a trap but played along. After he crated Marla, he retrieved the Taser from his vehicle and hid it in his jacket. On the way to the VIP tent, he took Bear down when they passed behind the refrigerated trucks.”

“Rosario should have seized the chance to get away clean, but he came after me instead.” Anger boiled through me. “Because of Kristi. That manipulative—”

Dr. Nikas cut off my building tirade. “You need sleep.” He drew another syringe from his pocket. It didn't have a needle and was filled with what looked like white gravy.

“Isn't that for use with a zombie mod port?”

“You've had one on your wish list, haven't you?” He smiled as he pulled the gauze under my collarbone down again, twisted the syringe and injected the drug. “This is a sedative, but your port's primary use is for auto-dosing V13, your non-addictive, non-damaging V12 replacement.”

“That's so cool.” My words were already slurring. “But more questions. Nick?”

Dr. Nikas looked pained. “Answers will be clearer after you rest. Sleep, Angel.”

Since I was almost there already, I did.

“I can walk.” I made a shooing motion at the wheelchair Jacques had pushed into the room. “I don't need that thing.”

Jacques regarded me placidly and didn't budge away from the bed. Only a few minutes earlier, he'd nudged me awake to inform me that Dr. Nikas was about to attempt to wake Kang, and would I like to observe?

Hell yeah, I wanted to observe, and I was grateful to be woken up for the event, but I didn't need to be carted around like an invalid. I'd slept for two straight days, out cold since I first woke and talked to Dr. Nikas on Friday. I felt perfectly fine. More than fine. I was chipper as fuck.

I was wrapped in gauze from ankle to wrist—though not as heavily as the day before—with a bright pink hospital gown over it all. After I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, I set my feet on the floor and carefully straightened. There, that wasn't so bad. Legs were holding me up nicely. Emboldened, I took a careful step. And another. “See, I can walk just
whoa
.” My legs folded, and my butt dropped into the wheelchair that Jacques shoved smoothly under me. In fact, his timing was so perfect it was as if he'd been expecting me to need it.

“Thanks,” I mumbled and gathered the shreds of my dignity around me. “But I can wheel myself there.” I set the phone in my lap, slapped my hands onto the wheel grip things and gave a mighty shove. And another. And one more.

“Okay,” I panted after the exertions of moving a whole foot and a half. “I can be a lazy slug.”

Jacques smiled and said nothing as he wheeled me to the Head Room.

•   •   •

Kang was back in his tank, floating like a mummy-fish. Jacques parked me out of the way by the far counter, then set to work with Dr. Nikas in a flurry of measurement-taking and probe-connecting. While I waited, I checked my phone for messages. Two voicemails from an out-of-state area code waited for me. Probably a telemarketer. One from Allen as well. But nothing from Nick. My heart sank, leaving behind a giant aching hole. I blinked furiously to keep back tears. What the hell did I expect after rotting to pieces in front of him?

“Oh dear, I nearly forgot.” Dr. Nikas lifted a plain white envelope from the counter then crossed the room and held it out for me. “My deepest apologies, Angel. I should have given you this as soon as you came in.” At my perplexed look he smiled and added, “It's from your father.”

My heart lifted a few inches off the floor as I took it. “It's cool. Thanks.” As he returned to his equipment, I tore the envelope open, spirits rising at the sight of my dad's cramped handwriting.

Angelkins you know i love you. You keep doing good like you been doing you hear me?

The tears spilled over, and I didn't try to stop them.

You got you some good people taking care of you here at this place. Ari says your a champ. He's right but i don't need nobody to tell me that. Your my Angelkins.

A lovely warm glow of happiness spread from the center of my chest to the tips of my freshly regrown toes. Dr. Nikas made my dad feel comfortable enough to call him Ari, which meant that my dad made Dr. Nikas feel comfortable enough to invite him to use that name in the first place. Two of my favorite men in the entire world got along. Total happiness.

I been to see you ever day since you got there. Marcus been by too but he looked too tired and sad-like for me to pick a fight with him. Ari says you might wake up tomorrow so thought to leave you this letter in case you get up before i get here. I was fucked up hard with seeing you in that tank and all. Thought they was drowning you. Ari and that french guy finally got it through my thick skull that it was the only way to make you you again. Turns out they was right. I sat by you today and watched you sleep. Sang you those songs you love to hate. I like to think you heard a little bit and it made you smile inside.

“Angel?” Dr. Nikas said in a voice filled with concern. “Is everything all right?”

His worry was justified, considering I was flat out bawling. “Yeah. My dad,” I gulped out through sniffles. “He wrote that he sang to me yesterday.”

“He did indeed.” Dr. Nikas smiled broadly as he tweaked settings. “Loud and long.”

“Oh dear god,” I said, mortified yet at the same time ridiculously tickled that he'd sung for me and didn't give a shit who heard. “Let me guess:
Pinball Wizard
,
Paradise by the Dashboard Light
, and
Shut Up and Kiss Me
?”

Humor danced in his eyes. “Those are the ones. His voice is actually quite good. You remember him singing them to you?”

“Only from about a billion times at home.” I let out a laugh. “He was probably hoping to annoy me enough that I'd wake up and yell at him to stop.”

Dr. Nikas chuckled, and I dove into the last of the letter.

Tomorrow i got to go into Tucker Point for a while then i'll swing by to see you in the afternoon. Wanted to tell you Nick checked in with me to make sure you was doing okay. Way he's feeling right now i don't know if he'll be calling you direct but you need to know he's thinking about you no matter what it seems he'll come around. I love you Angelkins. Dad

My heart squeezed firmly back into place. Smiling, I swiped happy tears away then lifted my phone and took a picture of the letter. I didn't give a rat's ass if it seemed weird. I wanted to be able to look back at that letter anytime I needed a reminder of how fucking lucky I was.

I carefully replaced the letter in the envelope then listened to the voicemail from Allen.

“Angel. Just wanted to let you know that your, um, primary care physician, Dr. Nikas, contacted me about that, er, procedure you're having done, and your sick leave is approved. Hope to see you back on your feet soon.”

Yeah, that was one hell of a procedure I'd had done. I looked down at my brand-new body and let out a tragic sigh. Too bad the Angel 2.0 version didn't come with actual boobs.

Since Jacques and Dr. Nikas were still prepping stuff, I went ahead and checked the voicemails from the out-of-state area code.

“Angel, it's Justine Chu.”

Okay, that was unexpected.

“I hope you won't be mad or creeped out that I dug up your cell phone number, but I really wanted to call and apologize for my behavior on Mardi Gras. I am SO sorry for behaving like such an ass. I hardly ever drink and so my tolerance is shit, and I know that's still no excuse but I got too caught up in the whole party atmosphere and was having so much fun and then when I saw you, I was just like hey, that girl is really cool and grounded and I need people like her in my life, y'know? Oh Jesus, I'm babbling. Ugh! Okay, anyway, I'm so very sorry I barged into your private meeting, and I hope I didn't say anything stupid and I don't blame you one bit for running after the guy when he got sick of waiting for me to leave.”
She took a deep breath.
“So . . . I just hope you don't hate me, and I hope your meeting worked out okay and that you're doing okay too.”

Amused—and relieved that she didn't interpret any of the scene in the VIP tent as suspicious—I went on to listen to her next message.

“Justine again, doubling down on the stalker thing. Forgot to say that this is my cell number and you're totally welcome to call or text. I mean, if you want. Shit, I'm going to start babbling again. All right, take care, and sorry again.”

Damn, I really liked her. The mega awesome rising star Justine Chu had normal, everyday insecurities like the rest of us.
And
wanted to keep in touch. How cool was that? It called for a little in-the-wheelchair dance, but I stopped when even that wore me out.

Sheesh.

I set the letter and my phone on the counter, only now noticing a softly burbling aquarium covered with black cloth. Curious, I lifted a corner of the cloth then recoiled as I came eyeball to dead eyeball with Judd. Heart pounding, I snatched my hand back and shoved away in my wheelchair. “You can't regrow Judd!”

Jacques glanced over then returned to typing at the workstation.

“We're not,” Dr. Nikas said calmly as he wrote in his shorthand on the whiteboard. “I'm merely preserving him until I have time to determine
how
he mindlessly reanimated, and with such speed. It is disturbing, and the matter is on my urgent task list.”

Everything about Judd and his creepy head was disturbing. I wheeled a bit farther away from the tank. “Well, I know you'll figure it out,” I said with conviction. “You always do. Look at the miracles you pulled off with me and Kang.”

Dr. Nikas placed the marker in the tray and turned to face me, expression uncharacteristically bleak. “Angel, your quick recovery was possible because I contacted Allen Prejean, and he in turn arranged direct contact with his
goule-gris
connection in Africa. If not for their help, at best you would be in stasis like the people who haven't regrown.” He gestured toward the head vats. “Or, more likely, irrevocably dead due to the V12 overdose.”

I shook my head. He had no idea how awesome he was. “But
you're
the one who put the pieces together and made it work. You always find the answers, and you will with the Judd mess, too.” I gave him an encouraging smile. “And don't forget all the progress you've made on fake brains! You're so close on that one. I bet it won't take you more than—”

“Angel.” The force behind the word silenced me. “I am only one man. An enhanced man but limited nonetheless.” His voice carried an edge of desperation I'd never heard in him before. “I made more progress in the few months of brainstorming with Kristi than in the three years prior. Together we produced far greater results than either of us could have managed on our own even with all the time in the world. I have only one mind to engage a staggering list of urgent needs. I am doing all I can, but I fear it may be too little, too late.”

“But your one mind really kicks ass.”

“Not nearly well enough on its own for the challenges we face. Kristi Charish is brilliant, undeniably so.” He held up a hand before I could blurt out my own undeniable opinion of her. “I'm not discounting my own ability, but brilliance manifests in different ways, both in cognition and processing. Areas of weakness for me are strengths for her. Through necessity as a solitary researcher, I have a broad base of knowledge and experience founded on the considerable time I've had for study and experimentation. This base is a great advantage, yet information is quickly outdated and new discoveries are made daily, and I am therefore forever two steps behind in my specialties and ten steps behind in other areas. Kristi is focused in her fields of expertise, and we complemented each other well. Two or more minds working in harmony can see possibilities and make connections and draw conclusions that a single mere mortal”—a whisper of a sad smile touched his mouth as he gestured to himself—“or not-quite-mortal, cannot hope to match.”

My stomach ached. “Maybe the Tribe will find a way to convince her to come work with you instead of taking a deal with Saberton.” I couldn't stand the bitch, but I'd do my best to tolerate her if she could help Dr. Nikas.

Dr. Nikas resumed writing on the whiteboard but with hard strokes that squished the tip of the marker. “Tuesday afternoon she confirmed a deal with Nicole Saber and, escorted by Saberton, left the apartment Rosario had provided. Pierce and the others had no means to intervene. We lost her.”

Now I understood why he looked so bleak. “Saberton will set her up in a lab.” I rubbed a hand over my mouth. “She'll be back in the game, bigger and badder than ever. That really
sucks
.”

“With a small army of staff along with the knowledge she gained while here in this lab.” Dr. Nikas sighed. “Not to mention, she'll have access to cutting-edge equipment that we could never hope to acquire. Even if funds were available, the purchases would instantly draw attention to us.”

“If we end up having to move the lab for the exodus, that will—”

“There won't be an exodus this time,” Pierce said from the doorway.

Jacques froze, slack-jawed. Dr. Nikas simply looked resigned as if it wasn't news to him. Pierce stepped into the room, face tired and drawn but eyes intense.

No exodus? Can't they think of a place where no human will find us?

Comprehension struck me like a hammer between the eyes. “Because it's impossible!” I exclaimed before Pierce could speak. I gave myself a little forehead smack. “Duh. Dunno why I didn't realize it sooner. The last time y'all had an exodus there was no Internet or streaming video or digital records or security cameras everywhere.”

“Yes,” Pierce said, so stiffly I thought his jaw would crack. Heh. Guess I just totally stole his thunder. “We've examined the logistics,” he continued. “There's no way to successfully disappear
en masse
.”

“What then?” I asked, frowning. “Every zombie for himself? Every zombie either goes rogue or fights it out for the available morgue and funeral home jobs?”

“I don't have an answer yet,” Pierce said with an edge of annoyance. “However, you bought us time by capturing Dante Rosario and forestalling immediate large-scale exposure.”

“What's going to happen to him?”

“To no one's surprise but his, Kristi Charish threw him to the Saberton wolves. She told them the truth—that he intended to expose Saberton—and twisted everything else to make her look like a corporate saint. Nicole Saber knows better than to believe the bullshit, but she recognizes the truth about Rosario and will target him for capture. He's a liability to her as well as to us.”

“Man, that's fucked up.” I did a slow head shake. “Psychopath Kristi is an asset to everyone. Gets to write her own ticket. But the dude who thought it was wrong to use zombies as lab rats and tried to
do
something about it ended up being between a rock and a hard place as nothing but a ‘liability'.”