TWENTY-ONEU-Store-It!Public Self-Storage Units off of Interstate 12WHILE FERNÁNDEZ SPENT the night alternating between stacking crap in front of the big metal door and bitching under his breath about “lazy-ass magic douchebags,” Roo prepared for the reanimation of Charley Mouton. The spell used to create the clay vessel for the Golem was relatively straight forward and was to be the last component of the invocation to be done closest to dawn. Using Charley’s degraded tooth to return the ex-Ranger’s soul to the created body, that was the tricky part. Besides, Roo thought, as Fernández swore loudly because the cot he’d just tossed on the top of the makeshift barrier tumbled off the pile and nearly hit him, hard work helps the little man forget he’s been out of chewing tobacco for a few hours. A little before dawn, the bit of yellowing ivory that represented what was left of Charley’s physical form, hummed with stored energy as Roo completed the difficult spell work. Next,

TWENTY-THREEU-Store-It!Public Self-Storage Units off of Interstate 12CHARLEY “THE GOLEM” MOUTON had taken out a dozen zombie soldiers before the undead creatures knew they were in trouble. He’d picked up Roo’s truck and used it as a massive sledgehammer to pound them into dust. “Golem,” yelled Fernández, as a couple of the undead turned from the resurrected Charley to renew their attack on him.The Golem moved toward Fernández and tore the heads off the would-be attackers.Fernández picked up the axe that had fallen from his hands during the onslaught, and he and the Golem prepared to charge at the remaining zonbi soldiers.The sharp blast of a horn startled them.The undead turned and retreated from the storage unit.Fernández and the Golem chased after the blue and grey ghouls. The Golem ran in a sideways lope reminiscent of a large primate and roared at the top of his lungs. Fernández moved as quickly as he could to catch up and was so focused on the pumping of his

TWENTY-FIVEBayou Cypress Pavilion for the Criminally InsaneNew OrleansTHE CHEVY IMPALA pulled up behind the police SUV. Fernández shut off the engine, and he and the Golem listened to the tink-tink of the settling motor. Fernández tried Curtis’s cell to no avail. “What do you think?” asked Fernández, spitting out a wad of chewing tobacco.“It’s a Dismas Sheriff’s vehicle, all right,” said the Golem. “But if the Major were here, the place would be crawling with cops.”“Fair point. Let’s go see if we can find the boss.”As they got out of the car and headed toward the old asylum, the Golem called a halt.He was looking at the SUV.“These things have GPS trackers in them, don’t they?”“Yeah,” said Fernández. “Why?”“Well, we don’t want the Major or his goon squad showing up. Eventually, I assume they’ll be looking for this piece of shit.”“True, but I have no idea how to disable the—”The Golem picked up the truck and threw it into the bayou.Fernández blinked.

TWENTY-SEVENThe BunkerTHEY WERE TEN MINUTES from Curtis’s place when the Golem finally spoke. “So, tell me again, how many times have you died?”Curtis sighed. “Twice. The machete was number two. The car accident the other day was the first—I think.”“I don’t believe this,” grumbled Charley, shaking his head. “You think that was the first?”“You’re one to talk,” said Curtis, frowning. “I don’t claim to understand it. All I can tell you is that when I climbed out of the car, I felt no pain. Nothing, from any of my injuries in the crash—no pain at all. Not even my knees, which I’ve been bitching about since the war.”“What’s, uh, keeping you here?” asked the Golem. “I know Roo brought me back using some of his voodoo stuff. But he’s dead. I mean dead-dead. No one brought you back.”Curtis didn’t speak for a minute or two, a faraway look to his eyes.“That’s a good question,” he said slowly. “I know . . . there is a purpose to my being here. And before you ask,

TWENTY-NINEThe SultanaHELLO, CHILD.“Where am I?” asked Jeannine.Papa Nightmare was gone, the Sultana was gone. Jeannine stood in a place of complete darkness. It was then she noticed she was standing on two good legs.Scents of cypress and lotus filled her nostrils. The air around her felt damp. Goose flesh rose up on her skin. Life and death fought for the attention of her senses as the darkness changed, morphed. She stood at the edge of the water, barefoot and clothed in a dress made of vines and branches. She walked along the edge of the bayou. Near her feet, alligator eggs hatched, tadpoles swam, and a crane flew for the first time. She saw rotting trees and the corpse of a boar being reclaimed by the bayou.A large black snake slithered up to her, but Cassandra wasn’t afraid.We finally meet face to face, child. Centuries of planning and dining on dead things has led us to the end. The snake’s tongue flickered in time with the words that appeared in Jeannine’s head