“My family has done this work for centuries. In the old world and the new. I’m Roma.” “Gypsies.” “My grandfather would shoot you for using that word.” “I’ve been shot for less.” “So I’ve heard.” “Let me make sure I have this straight. The cavalry just now rode into town and it’s a Czech Gypsy porn-star zombie killer. Have I got that right?” She crosses her arms and looks at me like if we weren’t on a timetable she’d kick my ass. “Forgive me. I didn’t think my life would seem so strange to Lucifer’s alcoholic cowboy assassin.” “I wasn’t criticizing. I’m just trying to get everyone’s resume straight. Last night you were a pretty girl at a party and tonight you’re Catwoman.” She shrugs. “Secrets quickly revealed often seem more profound than they really are.” “Everything’s profound when there’s guns and zombies.” She taps her wrist. “Ticktock, Wild Bill.” “Done. How does that look?” I hold out the na’at to her. She takes it and spins it easily, making thrusts, jabbing the air. She drops into a strong forward stance, mimes pushing it through a body and yanking it back out. Whatever else she is, she’s comfortable with weapons. “Church will revive first. Bring him to me and I’ll show you how it’s done.” I kick the other two aside and pick up Church. He’s already starting to twitch. “Lean him against the wall, facing away from us.” I do it and get behind her. “Your weapon isn’t perfectly designed yet, but you’ll fix it when I show you a real one. It’s best to go in through the back so you aren’t forced to rip out the rib cage and organs. Thrust the weapon at heart height through the back with an upward motion so you slide between the ribs. Try not to pop it out the front of the body. The blades will expand inside the body and grip the spinal column. Spin the blades to cut away connective tissue and pull sharply using your body weight. Only when the spine is out is the revenant dead.” Church groans. His body straightens as much as it can, but stays facing the wall. Without its brain it doesn’t occur to it to turn around. “You can do the next one,” she says. Brigitte collapses the na’at as small as it will go. Stands at a forty-five-degree angle to Church’s body, resting most of her weight on her back leg, and then swings the na’at over her head. On the third rotation, she snaps the na’at out like she’s throwing a blade. The weapon extends in a second, spearing Church in the back. That wakes him up. He groans and wiggles around like a fish on a line, reaching back with his one good arm to grab at the na’at. Brigitte gives the na’at a sharp snap to the right. Church stiffens. The blades are a Veg-O-Matic in his dead guts. Brigitte crouches and jumps, not an easy thing in her boots. When she comes down she shouts something in Czech and drops her weight back. Church’s back splits open and his spinal column pops out like the handle on a one-armed bandit. This time he goes down and stays down. “Now you.” Brigitte retracts the na’at and hands it to me. The second Drifter is dressed in brown shorts and shirt. Some kind of delivery guy. He’s pulling himself to his
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