Deadtown Read Online Free PDF Page A

register, her scowl clashing with her perky pink uniform. She held out her hand like a traffic cop.
    “You got a permit for that thing?”
    It took me a second to realize she was talking about Tina. Legally, restaurants couldn’t refuse to serve a zombie unless the zombie had left Deadtown—the nickname for Designated Area 1, the part of Boston where all of us monsters had to live—without a permit. In that case, most humans would call the Removal Squad. And when that crew removed a zombie, the zombie never came back.
    I slapped the permit on the counter. “My friend’s name,” I said, “is Tina. Not That Thing . Tina. Got it? And if you refuse to serve her, I’ll have this place shut down so fast it’ll make the cockroaches’ heads spin.” I could do it, too. That’s what workaholic werewolf lawyer kinda-sorta boyfriends were for.
    Gloria—that’s what the woman’s name tag said—gave me a look that I hoped she didn’t use on the coffee. It’d be way too bitter. “What can I get you?” she growled.
    “How about a new attitude?”
    “Look, you wanna order something or are you just gonna stand there? We don’t allow loitering, you know.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at a sign that hung behind her. Sure enough, its big red letters proclaimed NO LOITERING .
    I was half ready to turn around and walk out, but that would’ve made Gloria’s day. So instead I smiled sweetly. “Ask Tina.”
    “Huh?”
    “She’s your customer. Ask her what she wants.”
    Clearly, Gloria did not want to ask Tina. She didn’t even want to look at her. Suddenly, the woman seemed fascinated by the way her own fingers drummed the countertop. I hated that kind of attitude. Tina could have been Gloria’s grand-daughter. It was just chance—being in the very wrong place at the very wrong time—that had killed and reanimated the kid. Not to mention a couple thousand other Bostonians just like her.
    “Are you refusing to serve my friend?”
    Gloria mumbled something.
    Tina stepped forward. “Did you say something, ma’am? I couldn’t hear you.”
    “Whaddaya want?”
    Tina looked up, down, and around, whistling. Then she turned to me. “I don’t know who she’s talking to, do you?”
    “Yeah, you know, it’s pretty confusing.” There was nobody besides the three of us in the place. “I guess Gloria ought to use the name of the person she’s talking to.”
    Gloria looked like she was ready to explode. “Goddamn it,” she muttered under her breath. Then she looked Tina in the eye and said, “Whaddaya want, Tina ?”
    Tina bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. “Gee, Gloria, I thought you’d never ask. I’ll take a dozen donuts. For starters.”
    Gloria whipped a box into shape, then Tina put her through a whole aerobics routine, bending and stretching and running back and forth as she hurried to retrieve the donuts Tina called out in rapid-fire succession: “A Boston creme, and a chocolate, and a cruller, and a buttermilk, ooh, and one of those pink-frosted ones with the sprinkles. No, make that two of those . . .”
    After Tina had purchased a good part of their inventory, I ordered coffee and a pistachio muffin. “This is to go, right?” Gloria grumbled as she rang up the total.
    “No, we’re eating here,” Tina said, wiping pink frosting off her face. Three boxes of donuts were tucked under her arm.
    “It’s to go,” I said. “We need to get you home before sunrise.”
    I paid. Tina waggled her fingers at our server. “Ta-ta, Gloria. See you soon.” She blew a kiss, then spun on her heel and flounced through the door.
    In the parking lot, Tina dumped all three boxes into a trash can. Wordlessly, she got into the Jag.
    “You okay?” I asked, buckling up.
    “Fine. Just not hungry.”
    I backed out of the parking space, then glanced at her. Zombies can’t cry. But if they could, Tina’s face would’ve been wet with tears.
    “I wish I could shapeshift like you,” she said.