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“In other words, you were pretending yesterday when you said you didn’t know who Pierce was.”
He winked. “Seemed the right move.”
“Heh. And Pierce was sooo insistent he could tell if you were faking it.”
“Pierce,” Kang said as if trying out the word for the first time, “isn’t as phenomenal as he likes people to think he is.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “And you are?”
Kang shrugged. “I’ve never made claims to greatness.”
“Fair enough,” I said after a moment’s thought. Until Pierce told me how old Kang really was, I’d assumed he was as ordinary as any other zombie “When you were faking unconsciousness, did you hear everything I said to you?”
He sobered. “I did. And I don’t have a solution for your shambler issue—at least not one that you’ll like. Around fifteen hundred years ago in Constantinople, I saw zombies that were wrong. Aggressive, but not from brain starvation, and seemingly devoid of humanity.”
I turned onto a side street. “How were they cured?”
“They weren’t.” Kang winced. “The infected—and anyone who’d been bitten—were driven into a house which was then set on fire.”
“Oh.” I passed a strip mall then drove into the alley behind it and killed the engine. “Yeah, that’s not an option.”
Kang gave me a long look. “Other than the current shambler crisis, you seem to be doing well.”
“I am. I’ve had a few setbacks, but I got my GED last year, and I’m taking classes at Tucker Point Community College.”
“That’s good to hear,” he said. “I confess, when I briefly woke up in the tank, I was quite shocked to see you alive and well. And even more shocked when I discovered you were welcome in the heart of the Tribe’s lab.”
I snickered. “A lot’s happened since you got your head chopped off.”
“Yes, I caught up on much of the news via Pierce, albeit unwittingly on his part.” Wicked glee briefly lit his eyes. “I can’t help but find it damn funny that you’ve become such a . . . valuable asset.”
I bristled. “You don’t think I can be a valuable asset?”
“Don’t be silly. That’s not what I think at all.” Kang lounged against the passenger door. “I knew from the beginning Marcus was the one who zombified you. Pietro was pissed when he found out Marcus had turned someone without consulting him first.” He chuckled. “And absolutely, utterly furious when he learned what kind of person you were.”
“Drug addict, high school dropout, felon, loser,” I supplied cheerfully.
“Model citizen, indeed.” He cocked his head. “He wanted to have you killed. In fact, before I got my head chopped off, I didn’t expect you to live much longer. But then you went and stopped the zombie killer and saved Marcus’s life, yes? I suppose at that point Pietro could hardly claim terminating you would be for Marcus’s own good.”
I remained quiet for a moment as I sorted through my churning thoughts. Pietro hadn’t gone so far as to have me killed, but he’d thrown me to the wolves when Kristi Charish needed a test subject.
Yet he’d also sent a helicopter to save me and my dad from raging flood waters, and then loaned me enough money to rebuild our home and our lives. And he’d paid me rather handsomely for doing various work for the Tribe. In fact, I’d recently discovered that my entire debt had been forgiven—payment, perhaps, for saving zombies from being exposed to the public.
“I think Pietro-Pierce and I are good now,” I finally said.
He regarded me, forehead slightly creased as if trying to solve a riddle. “He doesn’t trust many people. But he trusts you. Or your intentions, at least.”
I met his eyes. “I just want zombies to be safe.”
“And that’s what he sees in you. It’s all he has ever wanted.”
“That’s why he formed the Tribe, right?”
Kang let out a dry chuckle. “Yes, for better or for worse.” He shook his head. “I’m still not convinced it’s a good idea.”
I snapped my fingers. “Because it draws attention.”
“Precisely. And ?
