her girlfriend, who pulls her away. They bump into a table and a bottle smashes on the floor. The sound is like a starter’s pistol going off. Everyone in the bar decides to go batshit simultaneously and stampede over each other trying to get outside. In less than a minute it’s just Brigitte, Carlos, the corpses, and me. Except for a couple of drunk Deadheads slumped at a corner table in their purple necromancer robes. The less drunk one shakes his head at us. “Big deal. The soccer games at necromancer school were rougher than that.” “We’re closed,” says Carlos. The Deadheads stagger out while Brigitte and I drag the corpses into the back. Carlos goes to the doors and locks them. “Can one of you tell me what the goddamn hell just happened?” I ask. I look at Brigitte. She says, “Don’t worry. Whatever you think you saw, no one died here tonight.” “You’re saying Church and the others were already dead?” asks Carlos. Brigitte nods. “You’re saying they were a bunch of High Plains Drifters?” I ask. “High Plains?” “Zombies.” “Yes.” “How did you know Church and his friends were going to be here?” “I didn’t. I came here looking for you.” “You go everywhere with that gun?” “Of course.” “Why?” “It’s part of why I came to Los Angeles. My real work. I kill the dead.” Carlos is leaning over Church’s body. “Your friends are starting to leak on my floor. Should I be worried?” “Is the back door unlocked?” Carlos nods. I grab Church and one of the other Drifters by the ankles while Brigitte grabs the third. We drag them into the alley behind the bar. The Dumpster is about half full, but I can make them fit if I push hard enough. “Don’t bother,” says Brigitte. “Why?” Brigitte walks to the next building. Water is leaking from an outdoor spigot. She turns it on harder and washes her hands. I follow her over and put my hands in when she’s done, letting the frigid flow rinse black gunk from my palms. When we’re done, I wipe my hands on my jeans. Brigitte is wearing a red T-shirt with the name of a Czech band, a black miniskirt, and boots. She gives me a questioning look. “Go ahead,” I tell her.
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