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“’Scuse me, Angel,” Allen said. He scooped the mangled brain into a plastic tub then tilted his head toward the body. “He’s all ready for you, Doc.” He set the tub on the counter beside me then stepped to the autopsy table with Dr. Leblanc.
Nick casually slipped an empty plastic baggie into my hand before joining the others. I glanced over to confirm he and Allen were holding Dr. Leblanc’s attention. Within seconds I had four small chunks of brain in the baggie, and the baggie in the pocket of my cargo pants. With any luck at all, that would be enough for Dr. Nikas.
Because if my suspicions were correct, we were going to need all the luck in the world.
Chapter 3
While Dr. Leblanc remained occupied, I mumbled an excuse about needing to potty then sh
ed my yucky gloves and slipped out. The brain sample bag squished and shifted in my pocket as I walked. Yech. I’d been carrying human brains around for over a year and a half, but this was the first time I was even a teensy bit grossed out.
I ducked into the restroom, locked the door, then texted Dr. Nikas.
Scowling, I fixed my phone’s damn autocorrect.
I hit send and waited anxiously. The reply came less than a dozen seconds later.
Despite everything, I had to smile at his unflappable manner.
I waited nearly a minute, then:
Bleh. Rachel was one of the top security people for our zombie Tribe. I didn’t care for her, and she couldn’t stand the sight of me.
Which was true. That way I wouldn’t have to actually deal with her.
He proceeded to list what he needed: tissue samples from every organ imaginable, scrapings from beneath the fingernails, and samples of blood, vitreous, bile, cervical spinal fluid, urine, saliva, and even fecal matter. Ew.
I flushed the toilet in case anyone was listening, then hurried to the parking lot to place the baggie on the tire.
Allen glanced up as I returned to the cutting room then continued with his removal of the liver. At the counter, Dr. Leblanc sectioned a lung. Nick placed a kidney in the scale and recorded the weight on the white board. My eyes went to a red mark on Nick’s jaw where Douglas had clipped him. Damn it, that was going to bruise.
Tugging on fresh gloves, I moved to the other side of the table from Allen and held skin and fat out of the way while he worked. The normal chatter was gone, held at bay by what we wanted to talk about but couldn’t until Dr. Leblanc left. Fortunately, the pathologist seemed to be too absorbed in his work to notice we were uncharacteristically quiet.
“Cause of death appears to be drowning,” Dr. Leblanc murmured, setting aside the lung and moving on to the heart.
The crushing silence descended again.
I cleared my throat. “So. Whatcha all been up to lately?”
“Nick is in a play,” Dr. Leblanc said as he made tiny slices in a vein.
“No shit?” I swung my attention to Nick. He loved theater, but had given it up years ago to meet his dad’s strict academic expectations. “Is that the Less Miserable thing you said you were going to audition for?”
His mouth twitched. “Les Misérables. I got the part of Marius Pontmercy.” At my blank look, he rolled his eyes. “Marius is one of the main characters.”
“That’s awesome!” I paused. “Soooo, what did Bear say about it?” Bear was his dad, and hadn’t always been a fan of Nick’s love of theater.
One shoulder jerked up in a shrug. “He said he’d come see me. The show opens next month.”
“I’ll be there!”
He looked away and placed the liver in the scale. “How’s school going? Did you miss a lot of classes?”
“It’s going pretty good,” I said, only lying a little. My first semester of college was trying really hard to kick my ass. “I started back last week. My doctor said I was okay to attend classes as long as I took it easy.” Actually Dr. Nikas had said, since my mind hadn’t suffered, and I’d recovered enough strength to sit without exhaustion, there was no reason not to return to school—if I let my zombie baby Philip handle the driving and cart me around in a wheelchair. “Plus, it was Mardi Gras break when I got sick,” I added, “so I ended up only missing one week of school.”
Nick jotted the weight of the liver on the whiteboard. “You keeping up in English?”
“Yeah,” I lied a lot. “Holding onto a C.” And by C, I meant the lowest C minus possible. I was seriously considering dropping the class, but I didn’t want to tell Nick and risk him feeling obligated to tutor me again—or awkward for not offering. Not to mention, I wasn’t sure how well I’d handle us being alone together. “Biology is fun, even though the professor is a real tool. We have quizzes every damn day, and I think he stays up nights to think of the hardest questions. He’s also not even remotely nice. But he knows his shit, and it’s super interesting. We just finished learning about bacteria.” I grinned. “Found out poop is mostly water and dead bacteria. Our bodies are teeming with bacteria, and for the most part that’s a good thing.” I cocked my head. “Which I guess means we’re covered with corpses of bacteria, too? Yuck.”
