Dead Ice (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter) by Hamilton Laurell K

Author:Hamilton, Laurell K. [Hamilton, Laurell K.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

32

“TELL ME AGAIN why I’m awake and in a cemetery at the ass end of night?” Zerbrowski asked, as he stood beside me in the dark listening to the backhoe drive closer through the headstones.

“Because you love me like a brother,” I said.

“I never had a brother, and I like you better than I like my sisters, though if you tell either of them that I’ll deny it.”

It made me smile, which was probably why he’d said it; he was good that way.

Manny stepped closer to us as the backhoe got nearer and noisier, and said, “I’m afraid it’s my fault, Sergeant Zerbrowski. Anita brought me in to consult, and I was the one who thought the zombie might be trapped down there.”

“Explain how a zombie can be trapped in its grave again?” Zerbrowski asked.

I answered, “I told you that this zombie didn’t go down like the others. Their eyes should be dead again, just corpses that lie down and wait for the grave to swallow them. This one was afraid and screaming. He went under the ground begging me to save him; I’ve never had a zombie do that.”

Zerbrowski blinked at me behind the faint glint of his silver-framed glasses. “And you’re afraid that this one is alive down there, but trapped.”

“Not alive, but undead and aware and trapped.”

He looked at Manny as if for confirmation, and the other man nodded.

“I’d hoped I’d dreamt that part of Anita’s phone call,” he said, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks. He’d apparently put them on over his pajamas, or at least he’d kept his pajama top on instead of getting a shirt, unless he had shirts with little trains all over them. I wouldn’t put it past Zerbrowski, but I knew his wife, Katie, would have made sure the shirt “disappeared” out of his wardrobe. They’d been happily married for a couple of decades, but she lived in hope that she’d get his clothes down to things that would look good no matter what he grabbed. I was pretty sure it was a vain hope, but I’d seen the choo-choo pajamas before at late-night crime scenes. Though I guess technically this wasn’t a crime scene.

“You know that just adding a tie to the train jammies doesn’t fool anyone, right? We still know it’s jammies.”

He grinned. “Hey, I put on a tie and a suit jacket.”

I shook my head at him.

Domino came up to us. “They’re asking if they can move the headstone, or if that will mess up what you need to learn from the zombie?”

I shook my head. “They can move it. They just need to be careful not to damage it out of respect for the family, not out of worrying about the zombie.”

“I’ll tell them,” he said, and hurried back through the tombstones toward the waiting men. He still had the shotgun over his shoulder, like I had mine in its tactical sling. Before we got the grave dug out, I’d be loading up

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