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I hung up, glad that particular concern was taken care of, though I’d have to deal with the “invited” part sooner rather than later. I didn’t exactly have the authority to say they could go to the Tribe’s lab. “Bear, before you and Kang go get my dad, I need y’all to pick up Jane Pennington and her neighbor, Portia Antilles. They live in Belle Maison Estates.”
Bear frowned. “Jane Pennington the Congresswoman?”
“That’s her. I’m texting you the address right now.”
Bear gave a brusque thumbs up. “Let’s roll, Kang.”
They jogged to the truck and took off. Nick watched them go with a curious look on his face. “So . . . John Kang is back from the dead.”
“Sure is. The serial killer’s victims were all zombies, and Kang was one of them. We got his head back and re-grew him.” I allowed myself a grin at Nick’s reaction then turned away to call Marcus.
“It’s getting worse,” I said when he answered.
“I know. Shamblers are turning faster and succumbing in groups.”
“It’s really fucking bad. I’m sending Bear and my dad to the lab to be safe. They’re picking up Jane and another friend of mine, Portia Antilles.”
“Jesus, Angel. Your dad and Jane, sure, but we can’t turn the lab into a refugee camp.”
“Yes, we can!” I shouted. “If we’re ever going to come out of hiding, we need human allies, and that means we have to be allies to them in return. Now, you have four non-zombies heading your way in the next hour, and I swear to god if you don’t roll out the motherfucking welcome mat for each and every one of them, I will burn the goddamn lab to the ground.”
“Cripes, Angel. Relax.” He exhaled. “You’re right. About the allies, not the burning. We’ll take good care of them.”
My anger subsided. “All right. Thanks. And I wouldn’t really have burned it down.”
“It’s okay.”
“I mean, it’s concrete, and it would be really hard to—”
“Goodbye, Angel.”
The line went dead. Now for the toughest call of all.
I started speaking the instant my dad answered. “Dad, you have to go to the Tribe lab. Shit’s getting worse, and Bear Galatas is coming to get you in about half an hour. Please don’t argue with me about this. Please.”
“I won’t argue, baby,” he said. “I can hear it in your voice. I’ll be ready when your buddy gets here.”
I shuddered in bone-deep relief. “Really? I love you so much, Dad.”
“I love you too, Angelkins. You be careful out there, okay?”
“I will. I promise.”
My hands trembled as I shoved the phone into my pocket. I sat on the curb, closed my eyes, and tried to find a brief moment of balance.
A stretcher clattered by. The last of the shamblers being loaded into an ambulance. As the unit roared away, a warm hand gripped mine. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it was Nick. He didn’t try and pull me close or hug me. Simply held my hand, letting me know he was there.
Tears filled my eyes, and I let them fall, crying for the whole awful situation as well as for how much Nick meant to me. He was an important part of my life, more than I could have ever expected. Kind and supportive—a good, decent man.
An image swam in my mind—the memory of his face twisted with revulsion at the sight of my rotting body. Yet, here he was, unafraid to touch me.
My phone buzzed with a text. I pulled my hand away to thumb in my passcode.
From Dr. Nikas.
I started to reply with a No, then remembered Dreadlocks Man.
I heaved myself up from the curb. “I need to get some of that bloody carpet for Dr. Nikas.”
