White Trash Zombie Apocalypse wtz-3
Page 25
“Oh god…oh god…kill me.” The words tumbled out of him in cracked and pain-filled sounds. “No more…please.”
My low growl shifted to a trilling hum. Very carefully and cautiously, I eased the pressure on the bite. Brian took a step closer and crouched.
“Angel,” he said quietly. “We need to leave before the authorities arrive. Do you think you can get him to my vehicle?”
I gave a slight nod, then released the bite completely and began to lick the wound. I knew it should have been weird and gross as all hell, but it wasn’t. It was right. I tried not to think too much about that.
A moaning sob caught in Philip’s throat. “Done…can’t take it anymore…kill me.”
“Trust me,” I murmured, continuing to lick the bite, though totally ready to clamp down again if he started to freak out. “I’ll take care of you.”
He bowed his head and went still except for a heavy, generalized shaking. Taking that as consent, I slowly unwrapped my legs from him, though I still kept hold with my arms. “C’mon,” I said as I gently tugged to get him to stand. “I won’t leave you.”
Brian straightened, swept his gaze around to check on the progress of his people. Apparently he was pleased with their results because he returned his attention to us. “All right, Angel,” he said, still outwardly calm, but I heard a hint of an edge in his voice. “Everyone else is in the van, and we need to go before the police get here.”
Philip stood, swayed slightly while I kept an arm around his waist. His gaze rested on Brian, and he growled, but subsided when I smacked him on the chest.
“Behave,” I ordered. “You have to trust me.”
A tremor shook him, and I bared my teeth up at him. I knew we had to look pretty damn ridiculous. Philip was at least a foot taller and weighed about twice as much as me, but he allowed me to steer him in the direction Brian indicated, though he maintained an audible growl as we moved.
By the time we reached Brian’s Escalade, Philip’s growl had begun to develop the wet rasp that told me lung tissue was beginning to break down. I got him into the back seat, buckled him in like a kid, then slipped an arm around his waist and draped a leg over his, maintaining as much contact with him as possible. Then I fished another bag of slushy brains out of my pocket and held it for my great big zombie-kid to eat as Brian drove us away from the school.
I lost my virginity on the football field of East St. Edwards High School, and had been kidnapped from that same place years later. And now I’d just been in the thick of a crazed zombie mob on the Tucker Point High football field. Might be best for everyone if I avoided football in general from now on.
Chapter 24
I expected Brian to head to the same lab I’d visited the other day, where I’d seen Kang’s head and met Dr. Nikas, but instead he stopped after about two minutes of driving and pulled up to a loading dock behind an old brick warehouse. It bugged me that the area looked familiar, and it wasn’t until I caught sight of the battered sign by the street that I realized we were on the back end of the building I’d followed Philip to last night, where he’d begged Charish for brains. Damn good thing we’d come here instead of the other lab. I didn’t think Philip could tolerate a long drive, and apparently Brian thought the same.
Brian parked and came around to open the rear passenger door as I finished stuffing the last of the brains into Philip’s mouth.
“Let’s go, Philip,” I said. “We’re going inside. We’ll fix you up.”
He managed a tight nod, pain flashing across his face from even that small movement. I quickly unbuckled him, then helped him out of the SUV with Brian’s assistance. Philip didn’t growl at him, which was damn good since I didn’t know enough about the bite thing to be sure it would work again to calm him down.
As soon as Philip was somewhat steady Brian backed off and led the way to the back door. It was opened before he reached it by the door security guy from last night, so apparently we were expected.
“That’s it,” I murmured to the very unsteady Philip, keeping an arm around him. “Almost there.”
Brian led the way inside and down a short hallway to a small room with lab equipment and a single computer workstation. Two narrow mattresses, obviously dragged in from elsewhere, dominated the floor space.
I glanced up at Philip’s face as we walked. My gut clenched at the rigor of pain and concentration I saw there. Every movement was agonizing, yet he suffered in silence.
“Angel,” Brian said, “if you can get him on a mattress, that would be ideal.”
I gave him a quick nod to acknowledge I’d heard. “Okay, Philip, darlin’,” I said, maneuvering him to the nearest mattress. “I need you to lie down now, and then you can be nice and still, okay?”
He sank to the mattress, knees buckling at the end and near-collapsing the last foot or so. A wrenching cry of despair that was echoed in his eyes nearly broke my heart. I lay down beside him, keeping as much contact along his side as I could without putting pressure on him that might cause more pain.
A few seconds later I heard low voices and footsteps from the hallway we’d entered through, and then Heather and Dan appeared, practically carrying Kyle between them. His head lolled but his eyes were open, and he seemed to be trying his damndest to make his legs work well enough to walk. Heather gave me a quick wink, then helped Dan get Kyle settled onto the other mattress.
“Do you need brains?” Dan asked Kyle, but the other man shook his head in a drunken gesture.
“Strange,” Kyle slurred. “Not hungry. At all.”
Dan’s mouth pressed tight. “Not normal tranq, that’s for sure.”
“The mods did nothing,” Kyle continued, obviously focusing heavily on speaking as clearly as possible, with only partial success. “Knocked me down in seconds.”
Mods? That must have something to do with why he was surprised the tranq affected him. Some sort of antidote maybe? I turned my head toward them. “I got hit with that stuff the other night,” I said quietly in order to not disturb Philip. “It takes some time to wear off. The non-hunger, that is. Brains’ll be gross for a while.”
Dan glanced at me. “Good to know.” He looked back to Kyle. “You hear that? Just gotta wait it out.”
“Got it,” Kyle muttered. His hands and feet kept twitching, and it took me several seconds to realize he was consciously moving his fingers and toes in order to get his motor control back faster. The fact that he was awake but still without full motor control seemed odd to me. I’d been knocked out, yet as soon as I woke I was able to drive and move around with no trouble. Did it have something to do with the mods he’d mentioned? Perhaps he had an adverse reaction?
Philip tremored beside me, breath hissing between his teeth. I kept a hand on his shoulder while I let my gaze roam around the room, taking it all in. Heather sat beside Kyle’s mattress with a hand on his arm. Dan stood by the wall, arms folded over his chest, watching, and I had the feeling he was primed and ready to respond to anything that came up. The door guard fiddled with a computer that showed the outside surveillance camera feeds, and Rachel checked out the monitor over his shoulder. With the mattresses taking up much of the floor space, the small room was downright crowded.
A soft intake of breath from the doorway drew my attention. Dr. Kristi Fucking Charish stood there, a look of slight surprise on her face as she registered my presence.
I felt my lips pull back from my teeth in a snarl of hatred. Pietro had told me he had this bitch under his control, but she looked pretty goddamn uncontrolled to me.
Slowly, I lifted my hand and gave her the finger. Her face instantly shifted from surprise to practiced coolness. Her gaze went from me to Philip. A flicker of distaste passed over her features, sliding to a smirk of satisfaction as she looked back to me. She held my gaze for several seconds, then turned away and moved out of sight.
What the hell did that bitch have to look satisfied about? Before I could wonder about it much more, Brian came back in, a f
rown tugging at his mouth.
“Dr. Nikas is on his way, and there are too many people in here,” he announced. “Dan, Rachel, wait outside but stay close.”
The two quickly complied. I gave Brian a puzzled look but held my questions. His gaze flicked to Heather and then to me. I half expected him to ask the two of us to leave, and I tensed for an argument since there was no damn way I was leaving Philip right now. But apparently Brian figured we were doing more good than harm. He moved to me and crouched.
“Dr. Nikas doesn’t do well in crowds,” he explained in a low voice. His eyes went to Philip, and sympathetic anger flared behind them, then he stood, turned, and went to one knee beside Kyle.
Heather looked up at Brian, gave Kyle’s arm a little squeeze. “He’s still not able to move much, though it does seem to be wearing off.”
Brian’s head dipped in a small nod. “We don’t know what was used or how it interacts with Kyle’s mods,” he said, “so it may simply take more time. I can’t see Saberton using anything that would permanently harm a useful zombie.”
Philip shuddered beside me. “Charish…would…did,” he rasped out, voice thick with pain.
I looked back to him. “She’s a fucking bitch,” I muttered.
His nostrils suddenly flared, and he let out a low ominous growl. He shifted, pushing up on his arms, half-twisting to face the open doorway. He knew she was there. Could smell her or something. I felt the fury roiling through him and had no doubt that, despite the pain, he’d rip her to pieces if he could get his hands on her.
I wrapped my arms around him from behind and sank my teeth into his shoulder again, though there was a nasty part of me that wanted to leave him be and wish him good hunting. Oops, couldn’t control him. Sorry! However, the practical side of me knew I might not be able to bring him back down after he rage-shredded Charish, and I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else getting hurt.
But Philip wasn’t as easily subdued this time. He managed to push up to his knees while I clung to his back and bit harder. I sensed Brian near and ready to act in case I couldn’t bring Philip under control, but to my relief, after a few seconds, Philip let out a low moan and sank down to lie on his belly.
“Was fine,” he rasped, breathing harshly. “Was good. Strong after you turned me. She did this…to me.”
I let out a low growl of understanding, then released the bite and licked at the sluggishly bleeding wound. Still not gross, I thought idly. Too weird. I remained partially atop him—not that my piddling weight would slow him down if he went off again, but the physical contact seemed to keep him a bit calmer, though he still jerked and twitched.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dr. Nikas enter followed by Jacques, the pale tech who’d taken my blood at the other lab. Dr. Nikas paused as he took in the sights, and probably scents and sounds as well. He went to Kyle first, knelt by the mattress and placed a hand in the center of the stricken man’s chest. “How is it?” he asked. “Movement returning?”
“Slowly,” Kyle replied. “Very slowly.”
Dr. Nikas gave a small nod. “I suspect they hit you with the new tranq, but if you feel stable, I’m going to go take care of Philip.”
“I’m stable enough,” Kyle said, to my relief. “Tend to him.”
Dr. Nikas stood and moved to us, eyes going first to the deep bite marks on Philip’s shoulder as he knelt. I shifted off to Philip’s other side, and Dr. Nikas placed a hand in the center of his back. “Philip, can you hear me?” he asked.
“I can…hear you, Dr. Nikas,” he gasped out, then squeezed his eyes shut. “Please. End this. Please.” His voice cracked horribly on the last word.
“I will,” Dr. Nikas replied, calmly and firmly. He met my eyes, and to my relief I saw full confidence that he could help Philip, and that he intended Philip’s death to be an utter last resort. “Let’s get you to your back first,” he told Philip, and with my help we got him turned over on the mattress. Dr. Nikas looked at Jacques and rattled off some instructions that included words like “red-topped stabilizers” and “large bore eye-vee” and “five hundred mill normal saline.”
Jacques hurried off to comply with the instructions, and Dr. Nikas returned his gaze to me. “Angel, are you willing to stay with Philip for a short time?”
“Totally,” I said. “But can someone call Marcus and let him and my dad know I’m okay and might be a while?”
Dr. Nikas glanced at Brian, who gave a nod.
“I’m on it,” he said, pulling out his phone as he stepped into the hallway to make the call.
Jacques returned and set up an IV with several bags flowing into the tube thingy in Philip’s arm.
I frowned. “How do you keep his body from healing up around the IV?”
Jacques didn’t look up from his adjustments. “Needle and catheter have a camouflaging coating that keeps the parasite from reacting to it. Dr. Nikas’s development.” He stuck three patches on Philip’s chest and switched on the heart monitor, then stood and retreated to the computer workstation.
Dr. Nikas filled a syringe from a vial and injected it into the saline bag. “Philip, as soon as this bag finishes, I’m going to set up a drip of a new formulation. It’ll take a couple of hours, but let me know immediately if it makes anything worse.”
“Yes, sir,” Philip murmured, eyes already drifting closed. “Thank you.” He already seemed to be better, and I had to hope it wasn’t simply my wishful thinking.
Dr. Nikas stood and returned to Kyle. Carefully, he picked up the container holding the dart that had struck him. “Excellent, Kyle,” he said. “This will give us a cleaner sample to analyze and hopefully a better idea of how this tranquilizer operates.”
Heather’s lips twitched. “Way to take one for the team, Kyle. We can tell everyone you got tranqed on purpose.”
Kyle muttered something I couldn’t hear, but I had no doubt the gist of it involved curse words.
Dr. Nikas gave Kyle’s shoulder an absent pat, then turned and headed toward the doorway, expression hardening.
I had no shame, and I quickly grabbed one of the packets of brains Dan had left for me and sucked it down. I was pretty sure Dr. Nikas was about to confront Charish, and I wanted some super zombie hearing right about now.
It kicked in barely in time.
“Tell me what happened to Philip,” I heard Dr. Nikas say in a calm, even voice. Lucky for me, Charish had apparently been lurking just beyond the doorway. No wonder Philip had nearly lost it.
“I don’t know. He’s always been unstable,” Charish replied, and even though I couldn’t see her I had no trouble picturing the frown laced with the perfect amount of professional concern.
“What happened when he came here last night?” Dr. Nikas asked.
“Oh my god! Can you believe he showed up here?” she said, outrage thick in her voice. She huffed out a breath. “Begging, no less. He wasted all the supplies you’d left for him and claimed he was starving. I gave him some simply to get him to leave and keep from totally compromising us.”
Dr. Nikas remained quiet for a few seconds before asking, “Why in god’s name did you not give him more?” My zombie super-hearing picked up footfalls, and I easily pictured him stepping closer to her. “Did you think he was lying about being hungry? That perhaps he sold the brains I gave him on the street like pain meds?”
He didn’t sound so calm anymore.
“No!” Charish said. “He obviously wasn’t rationing properly. I gave him two, and Saberton fed him as well. He simply had to hold it together for a couple of days, that’s all.” She made an aggrieved sound. “Why would I waste valuable resources on a stupid zombie grunt, and an expendable one at that?”
Holy fucking shit, I thought, stunned, She did NOT just say that!
“Stupid…zombie…grunt?” Dr. Nikas bit the words out, and the anger in his voice sounded utterly foreign coming from him. “You call a highly skilled man who volunteered for extremely hazardous duty, suffered
your botched efforts, and who managed to endure agony and extreme hunger without undue complaint a stupid zombie grunt?”
I heard a clatter, and I figured Dr. Nikas had backed her into a counter or something.
“I…I don’t understand,” Charish said, for the first time sounding a little afraid and genuinely perplexed. “You were going to terminate him tomorrow. And…volunteered? What do you mean? For what?”
“Terminate?” Utter astonishment laced the word. “I never had any intention of terminating him! You don’t terminate your own people!” Dr. Nikas drew a shaking breath, obviously struggling for calm. “Why did you give the accelerant instead of stabilizer?”
“I didn’t!” she cried.
“You are lying,” he said through clenched teeth. “The two are kept in separate locations, look completely different from each other. Tell me why you sent an operative back into the field with a substance that could damage him and his mission.”
“I thought he was just a mule,” she replied, voice cracking in a way that told me she had tears going on now. Bitch. I glanced around the room to see that I wasn’t the only one carefully eavesdropping. Brian stood by the wall, arms folded over his chest and eyes closed, but his jaw was clenched so tightly I thought he might break a tooth. Kyle’s eyes were on the doorway, brow ever so slightly furrowed. He probably wasn’t tanked up to where he could hear it all, but enough to get the gist.
“I didn’t know he was an operative, I swear,” Charish continued, crying now. “You said you were going to ‘take care of him,’ and I thought you meant kill him.” She sniffled. “Ari, I was so tired that night, and upset that he’d come to the lab. Anyone could have followed him!”
Like me. Bitch.
“Because you thought him to be an expendable grunt, you chose to punish him. For a brilliant woman, you are remarkably stupid,” Dr. Nikas said, voice tight. “Brian,” he called.
Brian pushed off the wall, face instantly composed into a neutral mask that completely hid that he’d heard everything and how pissed he was. He moved to the doorway. “Yes, sir?”