White Trash Zombie Apocalypse Read Online Free PDF

waited until I had my car started before driving off. Good dude.
    Yet on the way home, my thoughts went back to the weirdness on the movie set this morning. What the hell was Philip doing there? And why save me from a world of hurt and then run away? He was tied in with Dr. Kristi Charish, which left me more than a little unsettled. I didn’t want that psycho bitch anywhere near me. There was only one person I could think of who might have some answers—Pietro Ivanov.
    He’d thrown me to the wolves a few months ago when he’d allowed Charish to kidnap me, but had since admitted he’d screwed up and had done a lot to try to make up for it. Like the pardon. About two years ago I’d been arrested for possession of stolen property—while driving a car my loser-ex-boyfriend had insisted was a totally legit purchase—and ended up with probation and suspended sentence, and a felony on my record. But shortly after I managed to pull off my escape from Charish’s secret lab, my probation officer let me know that I wasn’t on probation anymore because I’d been pardoned. Totally clean record. Fresh start. And I had no doubt Pietro was responsible. As well as being the head of the local “zombie mafia,” he was rich as hell and had a zillion political connections. No one else who gave a shit about me had the power to pull off a full pardon from the frickin’ governor. No way did I trust Pietro yet—or forgive him, for that matter—but there was certainly a truce and potential to rebuild.
    There was no sign of my dad when I got home, but since it was barely seven p.m. I figured I could hold off worrying that he was out drinking. He never drank at the house anymore—probably because he knew I sure as hell didn’t approve—and tohis credit he was pretty damn careful about not drinking and driving.
    Unfortunately, that was primarily because a few months ago Mr. Jimmy Crawford got stopped for driving while intoxicated. Fortunately, it was Marcus who had pulled him over. And even though Marcus bent rules like crazy and called me to come get my dad—saving us a ton of hassle and thousands of dollars—the incident pretty much shattered the shaky peace the two men had made, and my dad had gone right back to an active dislike of “that cop.”
    Scowling in annoyance and frustration with the whole situation, I slugged down about half a bottle of brain smoothie to make up for what I’d burned off in my exertions with Marcus, then flopped onto the sagging couch to watch TV.
    I woke later to screeching laughter on some nighttime talk show. A glance at the clock told me I’d crashed for a solid four hours.
    Which meant that
now
I could worry about my dad’s drinking.
    Not that worrying did a damn bit of good. Or arguing, or lecturing, or yelling. I knew that. I could wait for him, brace myself for an argument or worse when he finally came through the door. And for what? It wouldn’t accomplish a damn thing.
    I shut off the TV and went on to bed, unsure whether to be upset or relieved that he still wasn’t home.

Chapter 3
    “Five days and counting,” Nick said with a smile.
    I could only groan. For the past few months Nick, my oftentimes annoying but basically good-hearted coworker, had been tutoring me for the GED—the high school equivalency exam. Passing it had been a condition of my probation. But then I’d received my mysterious pardon and suddenly I didn’t
have
to pass the GED.
    Except that I did, for my own self-respect. Hell, having any self-respect at all was a new experience for me, so why not go full tilt, right? Besides, I’d learned that zombies had the potential to live a very long time. Living a hundred years or so as an uneducated loser wasn’t all that appealing to me, therefore the first step was to get my damn high school diploma.
    However, being chock full of self-respect didn’t mean I wasn’t totally intimidated by the whole process.
    “I’m not ready,” I said, looking with dismay at the