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Judd led us out the back door and into a broad alley with the rear entrance to Wyatt’s Butcher shop to the left and a cinderblock-walled dead end fifty feet to the right. A large target spray painted onto it was heavily marked with hundreds of splotches of fluorescent color.
Judd leaned the rifle against the wall. “Thanks, Angel.” He grinned at my baffled look and pulled a flat case from a pocket. “Bear doesn’t like us taking a bunch of smoke breaks, and I was getting the shakes.”
“Wow, so glad I could donate my break time to help you kill yourself.” I pointedly glanced at my watch, but he ignored me and removed a cigarette from the case.
“I roll my own these days,” he announced and held the cig up proudly to show off the little American flags printed on the paper. “Saves money, even with special-ordered paper like this. You should give it a try, Angel.”
“I don’t smoke anymore,” I snapped. Not entirely true since I still occasionally enjoyed a smoke—despite the fact it burned up brains as the parasite cleared out the toxic shit. It wasn’t a habit, though. And I sure as hell didn’t get the shakes if I couldn’t have a cig. Before I became a zombie I was as much of a nicotine addict as Judd was now, but I wasn’t going to waste my time explaining the finer points to him. “Are we gonna shoot this thing or not?”
Judd produced a bright yellow lighter and casually lit the cigarette. “Don’t get your panties in a wad.” He took a long drag and left the cigarette between his lips as he scooped up the rifle. “Watch and learn, little girl.” In a smooth motion, he lifted the rifle, sighted, and pulled the trigger three times.
Puht puht puht
Three new splotches appeared, right on top of each other in the center of the bull’s-eye. Judd was an arrogant turd, but I couldn’t deny he had serious skills.
Judd grinned around the cigarette and lowered the rifle. “Now, Angel, you gotta tell me if it’s your time of the month, ’cause I got a policy of never giving a woman a weapon when she’s crazier than usual.”
I fixed my mouth into a sweet smile. “Now, Judd, I can’t be all that crazy. I was sane enough to never fuck you.”
Randy and Coy hooted in appreciation of my comeback. Judd’s face tightened for an instant, but then he forced a laugh. “Okay, that was a good one.” He thrust the rifle at me. “Now let’s see if you can even hit that wall.”
Still smiling, I took the rifle from him, handling it a bit awkwardly on purpose. The asswipe had flipped the safety on. If I’d been a total newbie, I’d’ve looked like an idiot while I tried to make it work.
Judd flicked ash off the end of his stupid red, white, and blue cigarette. “I’ll give you a lesson if you want.” He laughed and pointed to his crotch. “Won’t cost much.”
“Gee, lemme think about that,” I said and walked to the center of the alley. With Kyle Griffin’s instructions ringing in my head, I hugged the butt of the rifle to my shoulder, nudged the safety off, and sighted.
Puht puht puht
Three pink splotches appeared within a foot of the center. Not as perfect as Judd’s, but it was close enough.
Coy let out a whoop while Randy busted out laughing. “Hell yeah, Angel!”
Judd dropped the cigarette and ground it into the concrete. “You got lucky. Even a blind squirrel finds a nut—”
Puht
Judd squawked in pain as fluorescent pink bloomed an inch above his belt. “Jesus fuck! You bitch! You shot me!”
I stood with my hands clenched on the rifle, sparkles crowding the edge of my vision as Randy and Coy stared at Judd.
My pulse stuttered. Oh, shit. I shot him. What the hell, Angel? I’d lost control again. Because of the V12? But that didn’t make sense. It was only half a dose. I’d been using the stuff for months and never lost it this much. Then again, I’d also never had a halluci
nation other than sparkles and fireflies.
Crap. It didn’t help that normal ordinary pissed-offedness at Judd the Jerk had kicked in as well. At least I hadn’t aimed for his pecker. Or maybe I had and missed. It happened so fast, I had zero memory of any of it.
Forcing a smile, I blew imaginary smoke from the end of the barrel then handed the rifle to Coy. “Thanks for the demo, Judd, but I don’t think I need you to teach me how to shoot.” With that I left the three men in the alley and slammed the door behind me. Good effect for them, not so much for Bear. He glared at me over the scope of an assault rifle he was showing Tactical Pants Man. I cringed and mouthed “sorry” then made it through the Bear’s Den and out onto the sidewalk without getting shot in the back by either Judd or Bear. A small victory, but I’d take it.
Chapter 4
Between stalking Marcus, chatting with Randy, and schooling Judd, I managed to burn enough of my break that I had to settle for a pre-made sandwich to-go from Alma’s. Even so, I had only four minutes to spare by the time I made it back to the Coroner’s Office. I sat in my car and gobbled down my turkey club, chased it with a couple of brain chunks from the lunchbox, and hit the morgue door with three seconds left.
Unfortunately, I now had no valid reason to put off meeting Allen any longer. Not without risking landing in more hot water. On the other hand, three staff meetings ago, Allen had gone on a tirade about departmental emails going unread. I smiled. Yep, I’d be the solid employee who followed every Allen-directive to the letter. Every one. Especially the one about checking my email.
I trekked up the hallway to the tiny office that the morgue techs shared. The morgue took up the back of the Coroner’s Office building, with records storage and supply rooms serving as a buffer between it and everything else. As the Chief Investigator, Allen was senior staff with an office at the front of the building. Not only did that mean I didn’t have to see him as often, but at the moment the distance allowed me to eke out a few more minutes before our meeting. Hell, I’d scrub the morgue floor if it would buy me more Allen-free time.
I stepped into the tech office then stopped at the sight of my coworker, Nick Galatas, leaning over my desk. I cleared my throat, amused when he jumped like a startled cat.
