White Trash Zombie Unchained

by Diana Rowland

  “The instinct I had when I made Philip and Andrew into zombies came after I decided I needed to turn them. To save them.”

  “Exactly. We can lay dear Dr. Charish’s hasty theory to rest. Plus, she didn’t know about mature zombies, who need far less brains.”

  “So what does it all mean?” I asked.

  He laughed softly. “It means we are both parasite and person.”

  I cocked my head. “Dr. Nikas once told me that the parasite isn’t really a parasite. Said calling it a ‘mutualistic symbiont with parasitic aspects’ was a somewhat better description.”

  “It’s a union that creates something entirely new.” He shook his head. “We’re still mysteries, even to ourselves.”

  Less of a mystery every day, thanks to Dr. Nikas. And, though I hated to admit it, Kristi Charish. “Speaking of mysteries, I have a burning personal question. Were you born a woman?”

  “I was,” Kang said. “Though I often took a male form, for mere survival. Throughout much of history, a woman without a husband or family to protect her often had a poor outcome.”

  I tried to imagine myself as a man. What would it feel like to have a dong flopping around? And just how itchy was ball itch? “So Pierce started out as Sulemain,” I said. The name definitely fit him. “What was your original name?”

  His eyes darkened. “I don’t remember. The parasite protects memory to a vast extent, but . . . I never thought I would live this long. I didn’t think to remind myself of certain details, and I’ve been more people than I can count.” He forced a smile. “I’ve gone by Kang or a variation thereof for several centuries now. Makes it easier to remember who I’m supposed to be.”

  “Damn. Sorry.” My phone buzzed, saving me from the awkward moment. “It’s Bear. Nick’s dad. I’d better take this.” I hit the answer button. “Hey, Bear—”

  “Angel,” he gasped. “I’m at the bowling alley. My people . . . they turned. They turned shambler.”

  Chapter 24

  “Call nine-one-one! And what do you mean they turned? Your survivalist group?”

  “I called already! They’re backed up. Dispatcher said it would be twenty minutes or more. It’s six of us here. I don’t know what—” Someone yelled in the background. “Jesus! Can you just fucking get here?”

  “I’m only a block away. Hang tight.” I disconnected then started the car and zipped to the bowling alley, narrowly avoiding crashing into an SUV as it careened out of the parking lot at breakneck speed.

  I drove right up to the front and bailed out. A teenage girl huddled by an ancient Honda Accord, her shirt emblazoned with “Alvin’s Alley.”

  “Don’t go in there!” she gasped. “They went nuts. And someone shot Gussie.” She hiccupped a sob.

  Kang dashed for the door. I dragged the girl to her feet. “Get in your car and go.”

  “I can’t! I left my purse inside.”

  I shoved my keys into her hand. “Then get in mine and lock the doors. And if you steal it, I swear I’ll hunt you down and do horror movie shit. Now move!”

  She scrambled toward my car. I sprinted into the bowling alley then flinched at the sound of a gunshot. Across the room a plastic sign shattered.

  “Stop shooting,” I roared even as Kang leaped over the snack bar and ripped the pistol from the owner’s hand—who promptly fled out the front door. With the immediate threat under control, I took stock of the situation.

  Alvin’s Alley was twelve lanes of wholesome family fun decorated in a vaguely 70s retro theme, though with modern computerized scoreboards. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and safe. Except for today.

  On the floor beside the nearest bowling ball return, a man with dreadlocks moaned and slavered in a pool of blood.

  Bear stood at the far end of lane six beside a baby-faced man I recognized as one of Bear’s sales associates, Clark. Together they slung pins at two husky black dudes—the Rucker twins. In the next lane over, a woman with orange hair shambled toward them down the oiled surface.

  “Don’t kill them!” Bear shouted, distressed.

  “We won’t,” I called back, hoping it was true. But how to stop these new shamblers?

  Dreadlocks Man let out a howl and dragged himself toward me, legs apparently useless. In a blur of zombie speed, Kang snatched a towel from the snack bar and bounded to his side. Hopefully to stop both Dreadlocks Man’s advance and the bleeding.

  The door banged open, and Nick rushed in. “I heard the call on the scanner!”

  “Four shamblers!” I hollered. “Don’t get bit!”

  Using his belt, Kang strapped the folded towel over the wound in Dreadlocks Man’s back. Clark let out a moan and crumpled.

  “Shit!” Bear jumped away to the next lane as Clark staggered to his feet, breathing noisily, and eyes dead.

  “Make that five shamblers,” I said. Damn, he sure turned fast. And Bear was seriously outnumbered now.

  “Nick! Bowling balls!” I dodged past Kang and Dreadlocks Man to seize one up. “Knock them down!” I hadn’t been bowling since I was a kid but I wasn’t worried about form. With a shout of triumph, I slung the ball down the lane toward Clark.

  Then cursed as the ball sailed into the gutter. Okay, maybe form did matter.

  Nick sent a ball right down the center of his lane, knocking the woman on her ass. I tried again, achieving yet another gutter ball. “Fuck!”

  He hit a button on the scoreboard, and rails rose up along the sides of the lane. “Kiddie rails. Try it now.”

  Great. I sucked that hard. But with the rails keeping the ball from the gutter, I managed to knock Clark off his feet.

  “Bowling for zombies!” I whooped.

  Nick took down Rucker One, but the woman was already clambering up.

  “We need to restrain them,” I said, aiming for Rucker Two. “Kang, look for duct tape or rope or something.”

  “There’s duct tape in my truck,” Bear yelled. He fished keys from his pocket and winged them at us.

  Kang shot up and snatched them from midair in one fluid move then sprinted out the door. Nick and I continued to sling bowling balls at the twins, the woman, and Clark, while Bear played keep-away and tossed pins.

  Kang raced in with three rolls of duct tape on each arm. Of course Bear would have a shitload of duct tape. A survivalist’s best friend.

  “Bear and Nick, keep them knocked down.” I grabbed a stool from the snack bar. “I’ll pin shamblers while Kang duct tapes them.”

  “I can help,” Bear said.

  “No! Doesn’t matter if Kang and I get bit.”

  Bear’s gaze snapped to Kang as he realized Kang was a zombie. Nick’s did, too, with an added look of bewilderment. The Kang he knew was not only supposed to be dead, but younger.

  Nick shook it off and slung another ball at Clark. I ran to the woman and gave her a solid kick to the midsection as she pushed up to her hands and knees. She toppled over, and I jammed the stool over her torso, putting my full weight on it to pin her. “Kang! Tape!”

  He was already in motion, wrapping duct tape around her legs with the easy grace of a spider binding its prey. Once her ankles were secured, I chucked the stool aside and helped him get her wrists and mouth bound.

  We repeated the process with Clark without too much trouble, but my puny weight wasn’t enough to hold Rucker One, who was nearly as big as Derrel the death investigator.

  “I’ll grab his feet,” Bear said. “I won’t get bit that way.” He pushed forward and wrapped his arms around the thrashing man’s legs, holding on like a bull rider. Nick bowled Rucker Two off his feet then sprinted down the lane to grab Rucker One’s wrists.

  “Nick, get back!” Bear roared.

  “Shut up, Dad,” Nick said through his teeth, clinging on for dear life as Kang bound the man in damn near an entire roll of duct tape.

/>   Rucker Two staggered to his feet. Breathing hard, I tackled him behind his knees, sending him crashing to the lane. His head thudded against the divider, and he went limp. Crap. Still breathing, though.

  We rolled him onto his back as he started to come to, and got him trussed up before he could do more than flail a bit. He had a goose egg on his forehead, but at least it wasn’t bleeding.

  “Need to get the wounded guy, too,” I panted.

  Kang loped over and took care of taping Dreadlocks Man in a flash.

  “Gunshot with entry in the gut and exit wound in the back,” Kang said. “Spinal cord, I’m guessing, otherwise he’d have been up as well. I’ll stick with him.”

  Bear rounded on Nick. “I told you to stay back. Are you hurt? Did you get bitten?” He ran his hands over Nick like a pat down until Nick slapped them away.

  “I’m not hurt! Are you?”

  “No, I’m fine.” Bear gazed around him, agonized. “My people. Angel, are they going to be okay? They’ve been part of my survivalist group for over a decade.”

  “We’re going to do everything we can,” I told him. “A . . . specialist came down from Chicago. Dr. Kristi Charish. You might’ve seen her on the news—”

  “The same Kristi Charish who locked you up in a cage?” He gave me an incredulous look. “You’re working with her?”

  Shit. Forgot I’d told him all about her right before I rotted apart. “We are. I fucking hate her, but she’s the best chance we have of finding a cure.”

  The sound of rapidly approaching sirens put an end to the conversation. I raced to open the door for two paramedics and a frazzled Tucker Point city cop, Seamus Hardy.

  “We got ’em restrained,” I said as they entered.

  The older paramedic, his right eye nearly swollen shut, gave me a thumbs up. “Thank god. That last transport was rough.”

  “You didn’t get bit, did you?” I asked.

  “Nope. Clocked by her heel,” he said. “What do we have?”

  I gestured toward Dreadlocks Man. “He has a gunshot wound, and one of the Rucker twins got knocked out for about ten seconds. The others were trying to bite.”

  “Got it. More units are on the way.” He rushed to Dreadlocks Man while his partner did a quick check of the others.

  Kang remained crouched beside Dreadlocks Man, answering the paramedic’s questions. Bear and Nick stood watch over the other shamblers, ready in case any of them broke free.

  Hardy radioed in a report then looked my way. “All five got sick at the same time?”

  “Close to it. Within about five minutes of each other. Fucking weird.”

  “Fucking scary is what it is.” His mouth tightened. “We took so long getting here because the same thing happened across town not half an hour ago. Except it was a bunch of lawyers having their weekly meeting. One went down then three more followed. Total mayhem. Two paralegals and the head of the firm got bit, so they’re freaking the hell out.”

  I hissed a curse. “The hospital must be bursting at the seams.”

  Hardy nodded. “Every EMT crew within a fifty-mile radius is on call, and the hospital is full. Emergency triage has been set up at the Tucker High gym.”

  My worry tripled. “How is that secure?”

  “Restraints. Lots of them.” He lifted his chin toward the downed shamblers. “The duct tape was good thinking.”

  I gave him a weak smile. “You know what they say. Duct tape and WD-40 can fix anything.” If only.

  The fire department and two other ambulances rolled up. Still reeling from everything Hardy had told me, I retreated outside with Bear, Kang, and Nick.

  The first pair of paramedics followed us out, with Dreadlocks Man strapped to a backboard on their stretcher. Once they had him loaded up and were gone, I shared the new info with the others.

  “The pattern has changed,” I said. “They’re turning shambler sooner. And how the hell can a whole group turn at the same time? This makes no sense.”

  “Dad, are you sure you weren’t bitten?” Nick asked, voice quavering ever so slightly.

  Bear showed Nick his arms. “I’m sure. Some bumps and bruises. That’s all.”

  A sick thought occurred to me. “What about mosquito bites?”

  “Nope. Nick already warned me. I’m swimming in DEET.” Misery twisted his face. “I brought these guys to the bowling alley to stay inside and keep an eye on them. Fat lot of good it did.”

  The naked worry in Nick’s eyes didn’t ease. I understood it all too well. “I’ve come to a decision,” I announced. “Bear, you and my dad are going to stay at the zombie lab until this shit blows over.”

  Nick turned to me with such a look of gratitude that my knees went weak. “Thank you,” he breathed. “That’s perfect.”

  Bear puffed up. “No way. I’m not going to run and hide.”

  “Shut up, Dad!” Nick clenched his hands. “If you love me at all, you’ll do this for me. Be safe.”

  Bear drew breath to argue then blew it out. “Jesus Christ. Fine. I’ll go. Wherever the hell this place is.”

  “Kang, you can drive Bear’s truck,” I said.

  Bear scowled. “I can drive myself.”

  “Nope. Bad idea.” I stabbed a finger at him. “Like it or not, we still have you on shambler watch. Turning shambler behind the wheel would be ugly.”

  “Shit. You’re right.”

  “Damn straight I am. I’ll call my dad and tell him he has to go. Y’all can swing by and pick him up, then zip straight to the lab.”

  Kang gave me a sour look. “I just left that wretched place.”

  “I never said you had to stay,” I snapped. “Drop them off and come back, because god knows we need the help.”

  Kang lifted his hands in surrender and turned to Bear. “Do you need anything before we go?”

  “Nope. Got a jump bag and a couple of changes of clothes in the truck.”

  Bear and my dad would be safe. For now, at least. Better than nothing. But I also needed to protect Portia, who’d managed to become deeply important to me in a short amount of time. I felt a sharp pang at the thought of that lovely, gentle woman turning into a slavering creature. And Jane! Had Pierce’s stalking extended to protecting her?

  “There’s someone else I need you to pick up. Hang on.” I stepped away and found Portia’s number, shifted from foot to foot as it rang.

  “Hello—”

  “Portia, it’s Angel,” I said in a rush. “Please don’t think I’m crazy, but the weird encephalitis is spreading. Look, I really want you to be safe from infection, so I’m sending a friend over to pick you up and take you—oh my god, that sounds skeevy as hell.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  That was the nicest way I’d ever heard anyone say “you’re a complete fucking looney.” And how could she understand? The whole thing was insanity.

  “I know it sounds totally bonkers, but can you please get in touch with Jane Pennington? She’ll vouch for me.” I hoped. “I’m calling her the instant I hang up with you.”

  “Actually, she’s right here with me.”

  “For real? Can I please talk to her?”

  There was rustling, and then another familiar female voice. “Angel?”

  No need to be vague with Jane. “The sick people are infected with a mutated version of the zombie parasite, and it’s spreading out of control. I want you and Portia to go to the Tribe lab. You’ll be safe there.”

  “Marcus called a few minutes ago and said he would send a car for me as soon as I was ready. Victor agrees it’s best. I came over to warn Portia to stay inside and use repellent.”

  At least Pierce was still looking out for Jane. Or maybe Marcus had taken the initiative. Jane’s bodyguard, Victor, was great protection under normal circumstances, but he wouldn’t be much he
lp against the shambler disease. “It’ll take at least twenty minutes for a car to reach you from the lab,” I told her. “I can have someone there for you and Portia in less than ten.” Bear’s pickup was a crew cab and could fit five adults easily.

  “Yes, that would be better,” Jane agreed. “Especially for Portia.” In the background, I heard, Jane, what on earth is going on? “Portia, I’ll explain everything, but Angel is right. You’ll be better off going to . . . a safe place.” To me, she said, “Don’t you worry about her, Angel. I’m relieved she’s invited.”

  “You’re the best,” I said fervently and sent up about a billion prayers of gratitude. “See you both at the lab later.”

  I hung up, glad that particular concern was taken care of, though I’d have to deal with the “invited” part sooner rather than later. I didn’t exactly have the authority to say they could go to the Tribe’s lab. “Bear, before you and Kang go get my dad, I need y’all to pick up Jane Pennington and her neighbor, Portia Antilles. They live in Belle Maison Estates.”

  Bear frowned. “Jane Pennington the Congresswoman?”

  “That’s her. I’m texting you the address right now.”

  Bear gave a brusque thumbs up. “Let’s roll, Kang.”

  They jogged to the truck and took off. Nick watched them go with a curious look on his face. “So . . . John Kang is back from the dead.”

  “Sure is. The serial killer’s victims were all zombies, and Kang was one of them. We got his head back and re-grew him.” I allowed myself a grin at Nick’s reaction then turned away to call Marcus.

  “It’s getting worse,” I said when he answered.

  “I know. Shamblers are turning faster and succumbing in groups.”

  “It’s really fucking bad. I’m sending Bear and my dad to the lab to be safe. They’re picking up Jane and another friend of mine, Portia Antilles.”

  “Jesus, Angel. Your dad and Jane, sure, but we can’t turn the lab into a refugee camp.”

  “Yes, we can!” I shouted. “If we’re ever going to come out of hiding, we need human allies, and that means we have to be allies to them in return. Now, you have four non-zombies heading your way in the next hour, and I swear to god if you don’t roll out the motherfucking welcome mat for each and every one of them, I will burn the goddamn lab to the ground.”