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Chapter 1

Harold Gaynor's house sat in the raceful sweep of trees The house gleahn, ravel of the driveway The gravel was so white, it looked like handpicked rock salt Soht the soft whir of sprinklers pattered The grass was absolutely perfect in the hts Missouri has had in over twenty years Oh, well I wasn't here to talk with Mr Gaynor about waterthe dead

Not resurrection I' corpses Night of the living dead That kind of zoh certainly less dramatic than Hollyould ever put up on the screen I a

Ani had only been a licensed business for about five years Before that it had just been an eious experience, or a tourist attraction It still is in parts of New Orleans, but here in St Louis it's a business A profitable one, thanks in large part to ue, but daood trait for a business er

Bert was six-three, a broad-shouldered, ex-college football player with the beginnings of a beer gut The dark blue suit he as tailored so that the gut didn't show For eight hundred dollars the suit should have hidden a herd of elephants His white-blond hair was trimmed in a crew cut, back in style after all these years A boater's tan made his pale hair and eyes dramatic with contrast

Bert adjusted his blue and red striped tie,a bead of sweat off his tanned forehead "I heard on the news there's a movement there to use zombies in pesticide-contaminated fields It would save lives"

"Zombies rot, Bert, there's no way to prevent that, and they don't stay sh to be used as field labor"

"It was just a thought The dead have no rights under law, Anita"

"Not yet"

It rong to raise the dead so they could slave for us It was just wrong, but no one listens to et into the act There was a nationwide co formed of animators and other experts We were supposed to look into the working conditions of local zombies

Working conditions They didn't understand You can't give a corpse nice working conditions They don't appreciate it anyway Zombies may walk, even talk, but they are very, very dead

Bert sht in his s on that co around to all the businesses and checking up on the zoreat press for Animators, Inc"

"I don't do it for good press," I said

"I know You believe in your little cause"

"You're a condescending bastard," I said, s sweetly up at him

He grinned at me "I know"

I just shook my head; with Bert you can't really win an insultas I work for him

My navy blue suit jacket was supposed to be suht but it was a lie Sweat trickled down my spine as soon as I stepped out of the car

Bert turned toHis eyes lend theun," he said

"The jacket hides it, Bert Mr Gaynor will never knoeat started collecting under the straps oftoat the sa where the straps cross The gun was a Browning Hi-Power 9 it near at hand