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SIXTEEN

SIXTEEN

Greenwood Cemetery Caretaker’s Cottage

New Orleans

THEY WERE OUTSIDE the cottage, near the parked truck.

“Roo, can you get to Charley before those things get here?” asked Curtis through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, he’s wrapped up—but I hate moving him before the process is complete.”

“Get him into the bed of the pickup. Fernández, go with him.”

“Do you expect to waltz through a couple hundred zonbi?” asked an incredulous Gallow, as he pulled a shotgun from behind the couch.

“No, I expect we will run away as fast as we can get out of here.”

“And go where, Jonesy? My restaurant and house are sure to be covered with cops.”

“Back to my place.”

“We burned it to the ground, remember?”

“I do. You didn’t burn the bunker, though.”

“Guys,” began Jeannine. “While I appreciate this macho banter, can we move, please? I’m really not interested in hanging out with the dead again, especially if Papa Nightmare is here, too.”

An engine roared outside and Roo screamed something unin
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