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Instead, we launched into a class discussion about how to write a clear thesis statement and come up with logical support for assertions. I threw myself into the conversation since not only would it pump up my class participation grade, but it also served to distract me from the impending shambler epidemic.
Yet as we talked about the oh-so-important freshman-level essays, something clicked for me. The principles could easily carry over to my science-y work at the morgue and lab in the form of clearer and more concise reports of observations. For the first time, I saw English Comp as something besides a total pain in my ass.
Before I knew it, class was over, and everyone was gathering up their stuff to leave. As I headed for my car, I dug my phone out of my purse and turned it on. The only thing Mr. Worthing wasn’t nice about was cell phones. They had to be off and stowed away. If he caught sight of a phone during class, the offending student would be marked absent and get zeroes on any in-class assignments.
I had no messages from the lab—which I hoped meant no new shamblers—but there were back-to-back missed calls from an unknown number, followed by a voicemail from Reb at the Coroner’s Office.
“Hey, sweetie. A lady called for you. Said it’s urgent. The name is Dr. Charish, and her number is . . .”
I didn’t hear the rest due to the blood roaring in my ears. Kristi Fucking Charish.
Of course then I had to replay the whole thing since I’d zoned out. Reb gave the number and finished with, “She was real nice and polite, but sure seemed to want a callback ASAP, hon. I’ll text the number over, too, so you have it right there.”
My hands went icy, and a lump of undisguised fear settled in my gut. I found Dr. Nikas’s number in my favorites but paused with my thumb hovering above the screen.
ASAP. Kristi had left the message with Reb nearly an hour ago, and no way would a call about this to Dr. Nikas be short and sweet. What if Kristi already had some horrific plan in motion? Or what if she had my dad or someone else close to me in her crosshairs? She’d ordered my dad kidnapped once before. Nothing was off the table where she was concerned.
I punched in Kristi’s number before I could dither any longer. Time was ticking away, and I’d have more info for the Tribe if I knew what her game was. I forced myself to breathe deeply and evenly. The last thing I wanted was for Kristi to know I was rattled.
On the fourth ring, she picked up. “Hello, Angel,” she purred. “What took you so long?”
“I was in class.” I throttled back the snarl that hovered behind the words. “What do you want?”
“Class?” Amusement colored her voice. “Sounds fascinating. Are you learning to cook? Knit? Or are you finally making a go at finishing high school?”
“It’s college,” I spat, instantly annoyed at myself for letting her goad me.
“That’s absolutely adorable. Kudos to you for pulling off the con. It doesn’t say much for the college’s standards, of course, but it fools people into thinking you’re just a teensy bit smarter than you really are.”
Ugh. Nope. Not gonna rise to that bait. “What the fuck do you want that’s so goddamn urgent? And I swear, if you’ve fucked with my dad or any of my friends, I’ll rip you apart with my bare hands.”
She made a tsking noise. “I’m utterly wounded you would think that. No, darling. I’m calling to offer my help.”
“Help?” My brain fumbled for purchase. “With what?”
“With that tragic little homage to The Walking Dead you have going on down there. You lot have a serious problem on your hands.”
That was the understatement of the year. “Why would you help us?”
“You truly are thick. Your zombie epidemic needs to be stopped before it gets completely out of control. I’m offering my help because a) I’m the best goddamn neurobiologist in North America and the only one with knowledge of the zombie parasite. Those CDC morons will spend years simply trying to determine what the hell they have. And b) I have no desire to become one of the shambling horde, so it behooves me to do my part to put a quick end to it.” She gave a low chuckle. “Besides, Ari and I have worked together before. With our combined intellectual resources, we’ll make short work of this disaster.”
Shit. Her reasons were more than plausible. “I can’t answer for Dr. Nikas or the Tribe. Why didn’t you just call them directly?”
Kristi let out an impatient huff. “I don’t have the lab’s number. I do have yours. And, now, you’re wasting precious time. Contact Ari and pass along my offer. I can be reached at this number.” She disconnected.
I made several obscene gestures at the phone then called Dr. Nikas.
“Angel. What is it?” He sounded harried and stressed, but that was normal lately.
“Kristi Charish.” I quickly told him about the conversation and her offer. When I finished, he heaved a sigh.
“While I am understandably wary of her proposal, I confess to a generous amount of relief. Though I doubt Pierce will view it in a favorable light, especially right now.”
I frowned. “Right now? What happened?”
“Kang is gone.”
Chapter 18
