by D. C. Gomez
“I have good news. Death talked to the Mistress, and she convinced her that we should continue our collaboration. Death said this was a great way of creating a unified front.” Eugene was bouncing up and down with joy.
“Did that work?” I was surprised Pestilence had agreed to that.
“Death suggested you guys come one week, and we come here the next. That way the burden would not fall on one organization to always travel. The Mistress freaked. Instead, she offered I come and visit every week, so you guys don’t have to worry.” Eugene finished with a grin.
“Wow, Death is good. I’m impressed,” I told the group.
“Oh, it’s payback. Death will always have the last word,” Constantine told us.
“Eugene, we need to get going. I need to make sure you make it back in time for your curfew.” Bob told Eugene. “Isis, your dinner is in the fridge. Eric said you’re not allowed to drink any more shakes for three days. Death said you need more sleep. So as soon as you finish your food, head back to bed. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” Normally I would have argued about all the instructions and me not being a kid, but I was so tired I had no energy. Bob eyed me suspiciously. “I promise. I like that plan.”
“Boss, you want to go for a ride?” Bob asked Constantine.
“Sounds great. We can stop by Sonic and get a blast,” Constantine replied.
“Can I get a blast? I haven’t had one in years.” Eugene looked so young now.
“After all your hard work, you can have two,” Constantine told Eugene as he headed out the kitty door. We’ll even get you enough for the rest of the interns. You’ll be a hero for life! Isis. Food and then bed. No delays.” It seemed Constantine also had to have the last word.
“If you two need anything, call me. OK?” Bartholomew and I looked at each other and nodded back at Bob. Eugene rushed over and gave me a big hug.
“See you next week, Isis.” I hugged Eugene back.
“I can’t wait.” I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and he took off.
“Bye, Bart. I must hurry before those two leave me.” Considering they were both downstairs already, Eugene was probably right. I wondered what Bob and Constantine talked about on their many drives.
I opened the fridge and found a covered dish with a note addressed to me. Bob left me instructions for my supper. I peeked inside the container. Bob had made me cheese tortellini. Bob was a life-saver. If I weren’t so tired, I would have done a little dance.
“Bart, what did I miss while I was in my coma?” I leaned on the counter and watched Bartholomew while my food heated in the microwave.
“Nothing much. Police recovered the body of the accountant from the fountain. Eugene coordinated the efforts of the CDC and made sure all victims were properly treated. Ana and Joe have recovered and are on bed rest. The media is going crazy. Pretty much all you would expect after a zombie apocalypse.”
That was an excellent summary by Bartholomew. I walked over to the freezer and pulled out a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. I handed Bartholomew the ice cream and a spoon.
“That deserves a celebration then,” I told Bartholomew. I joined him on the table with my food. “How are the schools handling the fiasco?”
“They’re already planning next year’s event,” Bartholomew told me as he took the lid off his ice cream.
“What? After that giant disaster, they’re doing it again?” I was holding my fork in midair.
“Zombie Apocalypse II is on. College Bowl has been nixed. Terminator and I have been asked to return as defending champions in the combat dance competition.” Bartholomew did a couple of head rolls followed by shaking the haters off his shirt.
“That’s my bro.” I gave him a fist bump, and he returned it with a huge smile. It was nice to see him smiling again and at peace with himself. “I’m glad Texarkana is making the most out of this.”
“Hey, if Salem can be the home of the witches, we can have zombies,” Bartholomew said.
“So true.” I took another mouthful and was grateful Bob loved to cook. “Tell me, what happened to Texarkana being calm and quiet?”
“We moved in,” Bartholomew told me with a mouthful of ice cream.
“That’s right—I forgot,” I said, laughing. We were dangerous to the real estate market.
“I almost forgot. You got another package.” Bartholomew jumped from the table and ran to his workstations. I got tired just looking at him.
“Here you go.” He handed me a small box wrapped in white paper. I did a quick look-over and then ripped it open.
“Do you have any idea why Antarctica-Bob sent me a ceramic penguin?” I asked Bartholomew. The little thing was cute, maybe two inches tall and full of detail.
“Hey, it has your name on it and a number.”
Bartholomew was right. On the back my name was written and the number 776. “A little weird, but we do work for death.”
“That pretty much sums up everything in our lives.”
“It’s a thankless job, but somebody has to do it.” Bartholomew was full of clichés today.
“It’s not thankless. The souls appreciate it. We do make a difference. A small one, but a difference nevertheless.” I smiled at Bartholomew.
“In that case, you won’t mind heading to New Mexico Tuesday. We have a streaker on the loose.” Bartholomew eyed me from his side of the table.
“Never a dull moment,” I said.
“Never.”
“In that case, fill me in on the details while I eat. I want to be in bed before those two come back.”
The tension in our home had vanished. I was looking forward to finding the lost souls now; I made a difference to them. I just prayed for a couple of boring weeks. I needed a break.
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www.amazon.com/author/dcgomez
Acknowledgments
Growing up, I was told it takes a village to raise a child. As a writer, I understand it takes a village to bring a book to life. The Lord has blessed me with a fantastic family and support system. A huge thanks to my family for putting up with my crazy schedule and never giving up on me. To my best friend for holding me up when I was ready to give up.
Thanks to my Texarkana community that embraced me and support this series with so much love. You guys gave me the courage to keep writing and sharing Isis’s adventures. To my community in Salem for all their love throughout the decades and embracing this journey with me. Thanks to the great editors at Kirkus Media. Thanks to the fabulous team at Streetlight Graphics for the amazing cover, interior design and never ending support during this journey.
Above all, a huge thanks to you for reading this book! If you loved the book and have a moment to spare, I would really appreciate a short review as this helps new readers find my books.
About D. C. Gomez
D. C. Gomez was born in the Dominican Republic, and at the age of ten moved with her family to Salem, Massachusetts. After eight years in the magical “Witch City,” she moved to New York City to attend college. D. C. enrolled at New York University to study film and television.
In her junior year of college, she had an epiphany. She was young, naive, and knew nothing about the world or people. In an effort to expand her horizons and be able to create stories about humanity, she joined the US Army. She proudly served for four years.
Those experiences shaped her life. Her quirky, and sometimes morbid, sense of humor was developed. She has a love for those who served and the families that support them. She currently lives in the quaint city of Wake Village, Texas, with her furry roommate, Chincha.
