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Oh, crap, not this tired song again.

“I know it appears that way,” I said. “But things often aren’t what they seem.”

I had to remind myself that her life had been really hard. She’d been on the street for years. Her mother was dead and there was no father. Shitty as my parents had been, at least they’d been there. Until they, you know, stole all my money and skipped the country.

My cell phone rang. It was Bugsy. “I gotta take this,” I said.

Hoodoo Mama waved her hand in an imperious manner.

“This is Michelle,” I said.

“Any luck?” he asked.

“Not so much.”

“You should try to charm her.”

I glanced at Hoodoo Mama and I noticed a piece of the wallpaper behind her was peeling off the wall.

“Uhm, that’s really not going to happen,” I said in my dubious voice. “Then I hate to say this, but if you can’t get her people out of there, you need to get out yourself. The outer edge of Isaiah has made landfall.”

I looked at Hoodoo Mama and her zombies. And I thought about the people she still had here. And that she was too young to know what she was getting herself into.

“I’m going to stay here,” I sighed. “Help out if I can.”

“What the fuck?” Hoodoo Mama said, jumping from her chair. “I didn’t invite you, bitch.”

I wagged a finger at her. “Where’s that famous Southern hospitality?”

“Are you insane?” Bugsy said. There was static on the line.

I turned and walked out of the living room.

“Look,” I said. “She’s practically a kid. There are people here who she’s supposed to be taking care of. I can’t just leave her here alone. This might be a way to show her we’re more than just a PR stunt. Maybe make her trust us.”

“Well, we’re all practically kids, Michelle,” Bugsy said.

I had a flash of fire and smelled the burning flesh again. I slumped against the wall. “I know,” I replied.

There was a long silence. I thought maybe we’d lost our signal. “Be careful, Michelle,” Bugsy said.

“You bet.”

The line went dead. I hoped it was just Bugsy hanging up and not the cell tower going down.

I went back into the living room. Hoodoo Mama glared at me. “And what the fuck do you think you’re doing? You fat dumb fucker.”

I guess I could have been offended. But I was fat at the moment. Holy Roller had taken care of that. And there was no doubt that what I had just done was really dumb.

I went and flopped down on the ratty couch, dropping my emergency goodie bag on the floor. “I think I’m fucking staying here and fucking helping you, whether you fucking want me to or not.”

The zombies leaned in toward me in a threatening manner. I stretched out as best I could and closed my eyes for a nap. I couldn’t help but smile.

Zombies. I hated them, but they couldn’t do a damn thing to me.

“Wake up.”

I was on a cool beach. The lake spread out before me. But the water would be cold when I jumped in.

“Wake up, you fat bitch.”

I opened one eye. Hoodoo Mama was crouched next to me. My back ached from sleeping on her ratty couch.

“Well, a happy good morning to you, too,” I said.

“It ain’t morning yet,” she replied. She pushed her shock of bright red hair out of her eyes. “We’ve got a problem.”

“We?” I sat up. We were alone in the living room. No zombies—yay.

“There are some people trapped in a building in the Ware house District.”

“I thought we got everyone out of there,” I said. I stood up and stretched. Something popped in my back, but it felt good.

“Not everyone,” she said. Her voice shook, and that got my attention. “Some of my people are still there.”

“I thought all your people were here,” I said. I couldn’t help the exasperated tone. “Damn it, you should have told me that there were more out there.”

She looked chagrined. About time, I thought.

“They didn’t want to stay here,” she said. “They don’t like the zombies.”

“Well, big points to them for showing good taste in companions, but the Russian judge is going to give them a major deduction for staying in New Orleans when there’s—you know—a hurricane coming!” I ended up shouting that last bit. “How do you know they’re in trouble?”

She shrugged. “Anything dead I can zombify. And there’s lots of mice around.”

I thought I might hurl. “Okay, no need to say more,” I said.

Fuck you, you don’t know what it’s like!” she yelled. She took a step toward me, raising her fist as if she were going to hit me. Oooo, scared of that. “You fucking rich bitch. They might only have the house they’re in. Or the clothes on their back. And then someone tells them they have to pack up and get out because a hurricane might hit. Who can afford a fucking motel? And who’s to say the landlord or the bank won’t take your house away while you’re gone?”

Her zombies had come into the room while she was ranting. They looked pissed. But I knew they weren’t. It was her. She was possessing them, after all.

“Look, we don’t have time for the niceties here,” I said. “Let’s just get your people out.”

She glowered at me. God, I was sick of people who had a hate on for me while I was trying to help them.

I went to the front window and looked outside. It was pouring. Water covered the street and sidewalk.

“Do you have a boat?”

“Yeah, we got one,” she replied.

“Can your zombies carry it?”

“Yeah,” she said sullenly. “My zombies are handy.

“Okay, get your boat and your zombies and meet me outside.”

For a moment I thought she was going to argue with me, but then she just set her lips into a thin line and led the zombies toward the back of the house.

After I pulled on my slicker and grabbed my emergency bag, I went outside. Even standing on the wide veranda of Hoodoo Mama’s house, I could feel the rain pelting me. It was coming down harder now, and I knew we didn’t have a lot of time.

Hoodoo Mama appeared around the corner of the house. Behind her were two big zombies carrying a boat between them. There was a small outboard motor clamped on the stern and a pair of oars inside.

“Don’t they get tired?” I yelled. The wind and rain were howling. “They don’t feel shit,” Hoodoo Mama replied. “They’re dead.” There wasn’t a lot to be said after that.

Hoodoo Mama maneuvered the boat toward one brick building that was covered with graffiti. She steered us toward a fire escape at the rear of the building. The zombies dropped off the boat and dog-paddled to it. Hoodoo Mama tossed them the rope, and they pulled us to the fire escape and tied up the boat.

Hoodoo Mama led the way up to the second floor. She grabbed the doorknob, but the door was locked.

“Shit.” She kicked the bottom of the door.

“I can blast it,” I said. I really wanted to blast something.

“Can you just take out the lock?”

I hadn’t bubbled since I’d gotten up to this weight, and I really wanted to do something big. On the other hand, the neighborhood was kinda crappy already, and after the water receded, there didn’t need to be a big gaping hole in the side of the building.

“Yeah, just a sec,” I said. I held my hands up and concentrated on the lock. Liquid fire surged through my veins. When it got hot enough, I let the bubble fly.

The lock exploded with a crunching sound, and Hoodoo Mama smiled at me. It was surprising to see such a sweet smile. Then it vanished. She turned away and opened the door.