CHAPTER TWO
We wentinto motion like a well-oiled machine. The explosions outside continued. At the rate they were going, I was worried the house would cave in. Charlie chanted a few ancient words, and my home was suddenly stable.
“What did you do?” I asked. The blasts were still happening outside, but the house had stopped shaking.
“Reenforced the base and structure,” he replied. “It won’t come down now.”
“Can we get in and out of it?” Heather asked.
“Yes,” Charlie said. “It’s different from a ward.”
Without a word, Candy Vargo waved her hand and everyone was armed to the teeth. The coffee table was loaded down with more weapons if anyone wanted to double it up. Everyone did. Gideon took over and barked out orders.
“Heather and Catriona,” he directed. “Stay inside and protect Alana Catherine, Shitty Ritchie, June and Jennifer. They are not to come out.”
I enhanced the protection by placing a second ward around both my child and Shitty Ritchie.
“Agreed,” Heather said. Her tattoos swirled over her entire body. It was an eerie, scary and beautiful sight.
“Zander and Tim,” Gideon said. “Go out the back door and come around the house. Tim, right. Zander, left. The element of surprise might throw them. Let them think there are less of us until there’s not.”
Zander started to move but paused. “The magic belongs to only one. Only one zombie feeds the rest.”
“Clarify,” Candy Vargo grunted. The woman was carrying more daggers, swords and grenades than I thought possible.
Zander obliged. “When we battled them before, we realized that only one was fueling the others. They can only exist as long as the leader is alive.”
“How do you know which one is the leader?” Tim asked, placing daggers in his boots and guns in his pockets.
Normally, guns were moot. A bullet couldn’t kill an Immortal, but zombies were not Immortals. I took Tim’s lead and grabbed a gun.
“You won’t know which one is the leader. It’s not obvious,” Zander ground out.
Catriona jumped in. “It’s luck of the draw—total chance. We fought all three of them and didn’t make progress. It wasn’t until the right one died that all three went down.”
“Got it,” Candy Vargo said. The woman was glowing so brightly, I had to shield my eyes. “If one of them cocksuckers fights too long and hard, leave ‘em and go on to another. Just make sure you don’t die. I ain’t in the mood for a funeral.”
From her mouth…
“Gram, you and Mr. Jackson will stay back too,” I called out. “I don’t know what a zombie can do to a ghost, and I don’t want to find out. Also, keep the dogs inside.”
“Roger that, Daisy girl,” Gram said. “Don’t you worry about us.”
That wasn’t possible. I was worried about everyone right now.
“Do you think the shart booger will show up?” Shitty Ritchie asked, his voice a sharp squeak. He was forbidden to join the battle, but that didn’t stop the tiny dude from arming himself. He’d grabbed a dagger and a grenade from the coffee table. They were bigger than he was, but I didn’t comment.
“Who in the hell is the shart booger?” Candy Vargo yelled over another round of explosions.
“The Higher Power, corn nut,” Shitty Ritchie yelled back.
The exchange made me freeze. How would we know if the Higher Power was here? It looked like something different to everyone.
“Shitty Ritchie,” I said, putting more knives into my belt. “What did the Higher Power look like to you?” It might not matter, but knowledge was always good. For all I knew, It might appear in another form every time. I was assuming It would look like Bob Barker or Monty Hall, but I wasn’t stupid enough to assume anything. I had no time to make an ass out of me or anyone else.
“Dolly Parton,” he told me. “But it wasn’t the real Dolly. It was fake Dolly. And another time it was Mark Zuckerburg. And another time it was George Washington.”
“Motherfarker,” Candy Vargo grumbled. “How many times have you seen the Higher Power?”
