Queen of the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page A

clear, okay?”
    I gaped at her. Nobody talked to me like that. Not when I was alive, dead, or anywhere in between. “Excuse me? Just because you dress like a homeless person with the requisite matching hair-care regime does not mean I’m—”
    Will stepped between us. “Understood.”
    She nodded curtly and turned back around to start forward again.
    I smacked Will’s shoulder and he winced. “What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.
    He glared at me. “The police are coming—”
    “And whose fault is that?”
    “—but she’s got another way out,” he continued. “So unless you want to wake up in jail with me tomorrow morning…”
    I shuddered. Wherever he was at 7:03 a.m., my time of death, that’s where I ended up. And I had kind of a thing about germs and public places. Yes, I know I’m dead. It doesn’t make germs any less disgusting.
    “Fine,” I muttered.
    The girl moved through the dark and dusty rooms without hesitation, even in the poor light. She knew where she was going. Or so I thought until she led us into a dead end, a room near the back of the house with nothing but big boarded-up windows and no door, other than the one we’d used to enter.
    Great. “So…either she’s planning a shoot-out, or just hoping if you stand really still no one will notice.” I folded my arms across my chest. I could have left at any time, of course, given enough distance from Will to pass through the wall, but I wasn’t inclined to leave him alone again so soon, especially not with HER.
    “‘She’ knows exactly what she’s doing and never invited you along anyway,” the girl shot back with a glare at me.
    “Like I need an invitation to watch you fail,” I snapped. My God, she just wouldn’t shut up.
    She set the one piece of equipment down—a portable generator, according to the label on the side—and then slung her heavy bag from her shoulder and shoved it at Will. “Here. Since you’ve messed everything up already, the least you can do is be useful.”
    “Hey!” I said on his behalf. She didn’t know him well enough to talk to him that way, not like me.
    Will shook his head at me, warning me to stay quiet. Right. Like that would happen.
    The girl ignored us both, reaching through the broken-out window to the plywood covering it.
    I snorted. “You’re not going to be able to tear through that with your bare hands—”
    With only a small grunt of effort, she shifted the plywood piece until it swung up and to the left. She must have removed the bolts or nails or whatever at the bottom of the plywood and loosened the ones on top until it would swing from side to side. And unless someone walking by happened to see her climbing in or out, they’d probably never notice what she’d done.
    Talk about planning. I was almost impressed. But momentary flashes of brilliance did not excuse wandering around like someone who used a grocery cart as her closet.
    Holding the plywood aside with one hand, she reached back and grabbed her bag from Will, lowering it out the window carefully. Then she followed, swinging her legs over the window frame and then hopping down to the ground.
    She twisted around to face us again. “Hurry up,” she whispered to Will, wiggling her hand impatiently for the generator.
    As soon as he gave it to her, I half expected her to let the plywood slide shut and then run from the house and us. But she didn’t. She held it open for him, waiting semi-patiently even though he was moving slower than normal. In the waning pale blue light of twilight, I could see for the first time that the back of his shirt was torn and he was bleeding in several places. What all had I missed?
    Once Will was on the ground, I leaned forward to start through the window myself. And that’s when the girl let the plywood go with a mocking little smile.
    I yelped and jerked back an instant before it would have connected with my head.
    Oh, she did not just do that.
    I shoved the plywood aside and