Cavagnolo better be careful or I’ll snap his neck. I didn’t want to do that, especially not in front of Phaedra. “What are you getting at, Sal? That I had something to do with this? Get your thinking straight. Stanley Novick was the first to get chopped up like this. That happened days before I got here. And Gino came to me for help, not the other way around.”

Cavagnolo relaxed his grip as my words soaked into his head. Heavy breaths bellowed through his nostrils.

I thought this hellish scene would leave Phaedra trembling in terror. Instead, she wandered through the area and inspected the bodies and blood from a distance.

I had to ignore Cavagnolo and think about the zombies. Why did they strike now? Why Cleto? Were they stalking him?

Phaedra called from the edge of the clearing. “Here’s something.”

A set of bloody prints went south. These prints were deep as if burdened with a heavy load. Cleto?

I didn’t need to be Daniel Boone to follow the trail to the river. They had flattened the grass and weeds and left spots of blood and bits of cloth. Zombies for sure.

Phaedra followed me. Cavagnolo stayed behind with Vinny. She stepped gingerly in my footsteps as if afraid the blood and tatters would infect her.

The zombies couldn’t have made a more obvious path with a road grader. This sloppiness was the reason the Araneum wanted them exterminated.

Footprints and drag marks continued off the riverbank to the water’s edge. The river lapped back and forth and obliterated the tracks in the sand close to the water.

I surveyed the opposite bank. The trees were set back about a hundred feet so the ground was more open. Where did the zombies go?

The river flowed over rocks and the eddies curled around submerged sandbars. Phaedra caught me studying the water.

“You’re thinking of crossing?”

“Depends. How deep is the water?”

“That’s not a good idea,” she said. “The current can be pretty fast and suck you under. You could drown.”

No, I couldn’t. There was a lot I hadn’t told her about vampires.

“Any ideas?”

She used her index finger to note a path across the river. “If you insist, try that line of rocks. The water’s knee-deep at the most.”

I stepped off the bank. Icy water filled my shoes.

Phaedra held my arm. “Careful.”

I’ve been dunked in the Missouri River and crawled out. Compared to that river, this was a trickle.

I told her I’d be okay and would return shortly. I picked my way along the rocks and across a sandbar. The water lashed about my shins.

Once on the other side, I walked along the water’s edge. I searched the sand and river rocks for the trail.

If the zombies carried heavy, awkward loads, the strong current would have worked against them. Sure enough, a hundred feet downstream, I found a confusion of prints. Some of the feet had dug into the sand, like they’d been struggling to haul something from the water. The footprints became an orderly procession away from the riverbank. Broken grass and a string of maroon dots pointed south in the direction the zombies had fled.

To where?

I couldn’t imagine zombies, let alone zombies dragging a clumsy mutilated corpse, strolling across the highway during daylight.

The trail continued through the thicket to a hard-packed frontage road. Footprints wouldn’t show. The weeds on the opposite side of the road were fresh and undisturbed. The zombie trail stopped here.

I found a circle of water stains close to the shoulder of the road. Whatever leaked was held still for a moment, that’s why the spots were in a circle instead of a ragged line.

Held still…to be loaded into a vehicle?

What else? That’s how the zombies escaped with Cleto.

Then who drove? The reanimator? Zombie motoring skills probably matched their smell, but again, Barrett Chambers had driven himself to Denver.

I returned across the river. Phaedra waited. Water squished from my shoes.

She asked, “What did you find?”

“Not much of anything. The trail vanished.”

She whispered, “Zombies?”

I nodded.

“How do they do disappear like that?”

“They have their ways,” I replied.

“Should we tell my uncle? That it’s zombies?”

I put a flat edge in my voice. “No. Zombies are part of the secrets we have to keep. Besides, would he believe us?”

We backtracked to the ambush place. Cavagnolo and Vinny were on their knees scooping meth crystals back into the plastic jars. They weren’t picky about sifting out the grass and dirt.

They stood and each held an armful of plastic jars.

“Phaedra, come here,” Cavagnolo said. He handed her his load of jars. “Put these in Vinny’s truck. Wait for me there.”

She took the jars back to his truck.

Cavagnolo brushed his hands to get rid of the dust and white meth residue. He put his hand on my shoulder and led me out of the clearing. The gesture was a crude attempt to reassure me.

We stood with a curtain of willow branches between us and Phaedra. He suddenly grabbed the sleeve of my coat and yanked the pistol from his waistband.

“I’m going to shut your mouth once for all, you son of a bitch.”

The pistol swung toward my face.

My reflexes kicked into vampire speed. I didn’t know if Cavagnolo intended to shoot me or only try to scare me. Either way, I had other plans.

I wrenched the pistol from him and shoved him in the chest. I kept myself from punching his face and breaking his skull. I was close to losing myself in anger and the blow might’ve killed him.

Cavagnolo stumbled backward. His eyes gaped with astonishment. His arms twirled through the willow branches. He tripped and fell onto his back.

I ejected the magazine and racked the slide to clear the chamber. I tossed the magazine into the weeds and threw the pistol at his feet.

“Why are you worried about me keeping my mouth shut? Is this about your deal with the feds?”

The astonishment in Cavagnolo’s eyes boiled into rage.

“As long as I’m alive, your secret stays with me. I die and the world will know what a rat fink traitor you are.” I lied because I had made no such arrangements.

I reached down and pulled him up by his collar. I brought his face close to mine so he’d get the full brunt of my anger.

Even though I had him by the neck, he growled. “Yeah, I read you. Now you read me. Stay away from Phaedra.”

This guy had a brass pair if he was threatening me. “Phaedra wants to talk to me, that’s our business. Understand?”

Cavagnolo tried to shake loose.

I said, “Kill me and you’re screwed. Two ways. Your secret will get out and your own men will turn on you. And there’s what happened to Gino, Cleto, and the rest of that crew. I can stop the ones responsible. If you stay the hell out of my way. Understand?”

He nodded but that didn’t hide his rage.

I let Cavagnolo go.

He smoothed his jacket collar in quick motions. “Fuck you. I’m doing you a favor by telling you to stay away from Phaedra. She might be my niece but she’s still a fruitcake.”

“Phaedra’s a troubled girl, that’s all.”

“Troubled? She’s a crazy bitch.” Cavagnolo found his pistol and brushed off the dust.

Bitch? That was something Cavagnolo would say about a girlfriend, wife, even his mother, but his niece? How crazy was she?

Cavagnolo shoved the pistol into his waistband. “You’re quiet all of a sudden, wise guy.” He gave a malicious smirk. “That’s because you know I’m right.”