“Dude, pull over, pull over!”

            “What?  What is it?” demanded Tommy, jolted by surprise at the other vampire’s sudden exclamation from the backseat, which had momentarily disoriented him.

For the past several minutes, Stacey had been explaining the intricacies of organized religion’s place in modern America to Lupi, the young werewolf who was sharing the backseat with the vampire, and he had actually been making a great deal of sense and demonstrating considerable insight into the subject, so much so that Tommy had found himself listening very intently as he’d guided his customized Cadillac ambulance through one of L.A.’s suburbanized areas.  Every now and again, it was possible to not only engage in intelligent conversation with Stacey, but he would make it abundantly clear just how much knowledge and wisdom he’d stored up in his warped brain over the centuries of his existence, and Tommy always savored those moments, because the oddball vampire was genuinely brilliant when he wanted to be.  Unfortunately, those moments didn’t come very often, and when they did, it wasn’t long before Stacey was back to his usual horrible self.

“Turn the car around!  There was a zombie back there!  Hurry up!” screeched the black-haired vampire, frantically banging on Tommy’s seat with his hand like an over-stimulated child.

Tommy slowed the car slightly, glancing into the rearview mirrors, trying to catch a glimpse of what Stacey was yammering on about.  Considering the sheer number of weird things that went on in Los Angeles, Tommy supposed that a zombie wasn’t too unlikely; he’d certainly encountered stranger things than zombies in Hollywood.  But beyond a whole bunch of comfortable-looking houses, well-kept lawns, clean streets, and trick-or-treaters dressed in their Halloween costumes, Tommy couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

In the passenger seat, Dorian was peering out the window behind the car, also looking for Stacey’s zombie, but after a few moments he pulled his head back inside the car and shrugged.  “Nothing back there but middle-class America,” he said to Tommy, and Stacey howled at the statement.

“And a zombie, you blind-ass motherfucker!  You can’t miss him!  He had a pink ball-gag in his mouth!” bellowed the irate vampire, at which point Tommy put his foot down on the gas pedal and resumed the car’s original pace.  “What are you doing?  He’s gonna get away!”  The vampire hopped up on the Cadillac’s bench backseat and peered out the car’s big rear window.  “He’s already out of sight!  What if he goes and chomps on a kid or something?!  We can’t let that happen, you dick!  Turn around, asshole!”

Stacey lunged forward between the two front seats, grabbing at the steering wheel, but from long experience, Tommy was ready for him.  The dark-blond vampire professor cocked back the hammer of his .38 Special and jammed it directly between Stacey’s eyes, stopping his momentum entirely.  “You touch this wheel and I’m going to ventilate your cranium,” Tommy growled.  “The last time you touched my steering wheel, we went through the side of somebody’s house, and I’ve taken steps to ensure that it won’t happen again.”

Stacey crossed his eyes to get a better look at the .38, and then snorted, causing Dorian and Lupi to exchange worried looks.  A battle of wills between Stacey and Tommy usually wasn’t a good thing, and things got even worse when firearms were involved.  “What?  You’re gonna blow my brains out with that popgun?  Go ahead and try.  The bullet’ll just ricochet off my head; you’re gonna need a .45 to get through my skull, at least.”

“You’re full of it.”

“Remember when I got that big crate of old porno mags dropped on my head and I got right back up?  That thing weighed well over one hundred pounds, and I took it right on the brainpan.  If I can shrug that off, a fucking .38’s not gonna do shit.  My head’s the least vulnerable part of my anatomy, you big dummy.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed as he watched Stacey in the rearview mirror, and ground his teeth together at the knowing way the other vampire was grinning at him.  “Fine,” said the professor, and adjusted his aim so that the .38 was aimed at Stacey’s crotch.

“Hey!  Whoa whoa whoa!” shrieked the vampire, scrambling backwards.  “You don’t wanna do that!”

“Don’t touch the wheel!”

“Then turn the stupid car around so we can get that zombie!”

“There isn’t any zombie back there!  It’s probably just another wino or a homeless S&M freak or something of that nature.  Remember that rummy in San Bernadino that you thought was a zombie?  You caused all that trouble and started those fires over a damned drunk!”

“He could’ve been a zombie!  He was all smelly and kept trying to bite me and couldn’t talk right or anything!”

“He was a homeless Russian immigrant; he didn’t know any English!” snarled Tommy.  “And he kept trying to bite you because you were manhandling him!”

“Yeah, well … if he’s not willing to speak the language, he should get the fuck out of the country and stop impersonating zombies,” grunted the irritated vampire.  “Speaking of which, turn the car around!”

“I most certainly will not!” snapped Tommy, who then sped up a good couple of notches just to piss the other vampire off.

Stacey, however, didn’t give up easily.  “Fine then.  If you’re gonna be like that, I’ll just go take care of that flesh-eating asshole myself, ball-gag and all.  Give the gyppo my regards when you get there.”  He turned towards the muscular, dusky-skinned blonde werewolf, who was currently in human form, and gleefully said, “C’mon Lupi, you and your Uncle Stacey are gonna go catch a zombie before he can go menace any trick-or-treaters.”

“If you insist,” replied the young werewolf, sounding very skeptical of the whole concept.

Before she’d even finished the sentence, Stacey had already clambered out his open window and dropped into the street, roughly rolling and bouncing with the momentum for a distance before springing to his feet and taking off in a dead run back the way they’d came.

“Damn, I was hoping he’d land on his head,” said Dorian, disappointment in his voice.

Tommy looked back at the blonde werewolf, who’d already scooted across the seat and had a shoulder out the window.  “Hey, you don’t have to go with him just because—“

“Thank you for the ride, and I will see you both later,” said Lupi, crawling out the window after Stacey, but with considerably more grace.  When she landed on the pavement, she tucked, neatly rolled, and flipped back to her bare feet all in one fluid motion, and she took off down the street even faster than Stacey did.

“Wow, look at her go,” said Dorian, watching Lupi in the rearview mirror.  “I can’t believe how fast she can move in those big baggy jeans and loose hip-hop gear she always wears.”  In the mirror, the werewolf vaulted a hedge and was out of sight.  The blond vampire turned to his longtime friend, who was muttering to himself, and said, “Well, at least you don’t have to put up with Stacey bugging you for the rest of the drive over to Donita’s.”

Tommy shook his head and growled.  “I’m not sure if letting them go was the best course of action in this situation.”

“Why not?” asked Dorian, leaning back in the passenger seat and resting his arm comfortably on the doorframe.  He lowered his black cowboy hat until it was almost over his eyes, and then put his feet up on the dash, relaxed now that Stacey wasn’t around.

“We’re going to Donita’s Halloween party, right?”

“Sure.”

“Who’s going to be there?”

“A lot of women.  Donita said she was going to make sure and invite a bunch so there’ll be plenty of candy to choose from.”

“Who else is going to be there?”

After a moment of thinking, Dorian replied, “Us.”

Tommy sighed.  “I’m glad you never decided to become a criminal investigator.”

Dorian lifted his hat back into place and raised an eyebrow at Tommy.  “What are you getting at?”

“Brandi’s going to be there.”

“Yeah, so?  She’s at every party Donita throws.”

“She asked me to retrieve Stacey and Lupi from where she’d left them watching the Halloween parade at the mall, and then bring them to Donita’s.  I can’t exactly do that now, since Stacey took Lupi to go zombie-hunting.  She didn’t exactly come out and say it when she called me, but I believe that Brandi asked me to fetch the two because she thought I would be effective in keeping them out of trouble, or at least Lupi, and she alluded to that fact.”  He gave Dorian a pointed look, and the light dawned in the other vampire’s eyes.

“Oh shit.”

“Not only that, but it’s also Halloween.  The holiday where Stacey acts even more cracked than usual.  I’m not so much concerned about him getting in trouble, because that’s just a matter of course, but right now he has Lupi with him, and Brandi takes her motherly duties towards the youngster very seriously.  I don’t think showing up at Donita’s without Lupi would be a terribly bright idea.”

“And if you tell her you just let Stacey take Lupi out zombie-hunting on Halloween, which sounds absolutely ridiculous when you get right down to it,” continued Dorian, looking more uncomfortable by the second, “She may not be all that appreciative, especially if he and Lupi get arrested.  She’d probably be pissed if Lupi ended up with a police record or showed up on the 10 o’clock news.”

“I should have shot him in the balls,” snarled Tommy, whipping the steering wheel of the big car around, pulling a sharp U-turn that almost took out a fire hydrant.  With a roar of its powerful engine, the tank-like black car shot back down the street in pursuit of its two disembarked passengers.

That’s when the police car zipped out from the parking lot of the nearby elementary school, turned on its lights, and pulled Tommy over.

*     *     *

            Nappy stared at the broken door of the backyard tool shed, which was smashed outwards and barely hanging on its hinges.  The rest of the tool shed wasn’t in great shape, either, and the whole structure had practically been demolished.  He scratched his head of curly brown hair in consternation, and looked at Paco, his short Hispanic friend, who was gazing at the door with a mixture of fascination and dread on his normally-blank features.  Paco turned to Nappy and slowly shook his head.  “He got loose.”

            “I can see that for myself, gosh!” exclaimed Nappy, vehemently kicking at the grass.  “I told you we should’ve put him down in the basement!”

            “Now what do we do?”

            “I don’t know!  Dang, do I have to think of everything?  Gosh!”

*     *     *

            “I shouldn’t have stopped for that sanctimonious prick,” growled Tommy, gripping his steering wheel so tightly that the metal audibly creaked.  “I can’t believe how long he kept us there!  I do not need the standard ‘holiday safety lecture!’  I know what I’m doing, dammit!”

            “Well, you were going pretty fast, and there’s a lot of kids and parents running around,” said Dorian, reading over the ticket the police officer had written for Tommy.  “He was just afraid you were going to squish somebody and ruin their Halloween.”

            “He should have been able to tell from the way I slalomed around those mini-vans that I’m an outstanding driver!” protested the irked professor, who kept moving his head and eyes this way and that, trying to catch sight of either Stacey or Lupi.  “For as long as he kept us there, lecturing me, those two could be in Bakersfield by now!”

            “Maybe you should calm down a bit,” said Dorian, giving his friend a look.  “You’re getting awfully worked up over this.”

            Tommy glared at him.  “Because every time Stacey pulls something like this, I always end up getting blown up, thrown around, set on fire, or shot at, and now I’ve been pulled over simply for trying to be responsible!  I have to go to traffic school now, Dorian!  Traffic school!  I’ve taught classes in Western Civilization to the children of aristocrats and great people the world over, and now I’m going to have to listen to Officer McGruff tell me about the rules of the fucking road!  Do you have any idea how damned insulting that is?!”

            “McGruff’s the crime dog,” said Dorian absently, peering out the window at a couple of young women dressed up like very provocative-looking witches getting into a car.

            “What?”

            “I said McGruff’s the crime dog.  He doesn’t teach traffic school, he just goes around and tells kids to take a bite out of crime and stay away from drugs and stuff like that.  Yow.  I wonder how wicked that witch is,” he said, craning his head around to watch one of the witches adjust her knee-high boots.

            Tommy reached over and gave him a slap, causing him to squawk in protest.  “What the hell was that for?”

            “Pay attention to the matter at hand, you ignoramus,” hissed the professor.  “We need to find our wayward charges before Stacey initiates some horrific prank or other such nonsense.  You can chase cheaply-dressed women around at Donita’s party all you like, but you’re not going to do it when my ass is on the line.”

            Dorian snorted.  “Now you’re being melodramatic.  You don’t even know that Brandi’s going to be all that mad at you.  She’ll probably growl a bit, maybe throw you into a tree, and that’ll be the end of it.”

            “Unless Stacey gets Lupi into trouble,” said Tommy.  “In which case, he and I will both be in deep with her, because she gets rather upset whenever somebody gets Lupi into trouble.  Or have you forgotten how furious she was at Kimmie and Mary for letting Lupi run off to Bel-Air on that little vendetta a week or so ago?  No, you can’t have forgotten that, seeing as how it was you and I that talked her out of maiming those two, nearly getting maimed ourselves in the process!  I have no intentions of ending up on that end of the cannon because of Stacey’s antics, and I, for one, am not going to let that little bastard drag me down with him.  He probably did this just to screw with me, too.  He always does this sort of thing because he enjoys watching me suffer.”

            “Well, you are pretty funny when you’re all irate, and you start stumbling over all of the big words you like to use, and—“ began Dorian jovially, cutting himself off at the menacing glare he received from the professor.  “Never mind,” he said, quickly looking away.

            After a few moments of listening to Tommy angrily mutter, Dorian said, “You think maybe we should get out on foot and look around?  We’ve already gone past the area where they bailed a couple of times already and hit the side-streets, too.  If they’re messing around in someone’s backyard, we’re probably not going to see them from the street.”

            “The idea had occurred to me, but I’ve decided to stick with the car for the moment, simply because we can cover more ground this way,” Tommy replied.  “Not only that, but the car has plenty of fire-extinguishing gear, which I’d like to have on hand, just in case.  If we haven’t found them within the next five minutes or thereabouts, though, we may have to hoof it.”

            Dorian nodded.  “Sounds like a plan.  It’s definitely for the best that we get out before long, anyway, because some of the parents have noticed that we keep driving around the area, and I’m getting the impression that they think we’re looking for kids to snatch up.”

            “To hell with them,” grunted the professor, making it a point to give the evil-eye to a watchful parent on the sidewalk.  “Let them think me a pervert: they’d be thanking me if they knew why I’m doing this.”

            “If not cursing your name for letting Stacey run loose in the first place,” added the blond vampire with a friendly jab of his elbow.

            Tommy glared at the other vampire for a moment, and then said, “I’m going to tell Brandi that you told Stacey that looking for the zombie would be a good idea.  If Stacey drags me down with him, I’m dragging you with me.”

            Dorian blinked at the thought of that, and then stuck his head out the window and bellowed, “STACEY!  LUPI!  WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”

            “Good man,” quipped Tommy, unable to keep from smiling.

*     *     *

            Nappy and Paco sat on the porch of Nappy’s grandmother’s house, both annoyed and dismayed with the evening’s turn of events.  They watched trick-or-treaters going by, and every time there was a shout or scream from the distance, the two teenagers tensed up and listened closely, but thus far they hadn’t heard anything that indicated trouble.  Not that either one of them had any idea what they were going to do if they actually did hear something that indicated trouble.  They hadn’t thought that far ahead, you see.

            “My grandma’s going to be totally ticked when she sees what happened to the fence and the shed,” muttered Nappy.  “She’ll probably send me off to military school or something worse.”

            Paco glanced over at his friend.  “Do you really think she’d do that?”

            “Heck yeah!” replied Nappy.  “Once she finds out about Mr. Rubenstein and the tool shed, she’s gonna ship me off to Alaska and have dropped off in the wilderness to fend for myself.  She did it once before you moved here.  I had to fight my way back to civilization with just a pocket knife.”

            “No fooling?”

            “Heck no!”

            “What was it like?”

            “I don’t want to talk about it right now, gosh!  We gotta figure out what we’re gonna do!”

            “Sorry.”

*     *     *

            “Hey!  There’s Lupi!”

            “Where?  Where?”

            Dorian excitedly pointed out his window.  “Over there, she’s pacing by that crowd of people.”

            “Crowd of people?  Oh, I see,” said Tommy, turning the big car in the direction of where the young werewolf was stalking back and forth on the sidewalk, her body language screaming irritation.  “Where’s Stacey at, though?  I don’t see—“

            “I see him,” said Dorian, sounding apprehensive.  “Oh boy … look in the middle of the crowd.”

            “Ah, there he—that idiot!  That can’t be what it looks like!” growled the professor, narrowly missing a parked car as he maneuvered the Cadillac against the curb.

            “Well, it sure looks like one from where I’m sitting,” said the blond vampire, eagerly opening his door and hopping out before Tommy had brought the car to a full stop.  “Let’s go!”

            “Wait up, you inconsiderate nimrod!” Tommy snarled as he finished parking the car and shut the engine off.  He got out and hurried across the street, right behind Dorian, over to where Lupi was pacing.

            The werewolf perked up at the sight of them and pointed over in the direction of where Stacey was standing in the middle of a crowd of curiously jabbering kids and parents.  “There really was a zombie after all!” she said, her voice a mixture of annoyance and triumph.  “Stacey caught it, but would not let me kill it!”

            “I don’t believe it,” muttered Tommy as he took in the sight of the disheveled, heavyset, partly-decayed corpse standing next to Stacey, a loop of clothesline tied securely around its neck like a leash, with the vampire holding the other end of it, as though the creature was his pet.  The zombie’s eyes were muddy and dark, but it was clearly aware of the people assembled around it, as it kept leaning in the direction of those closest to it, as though itching to take a bite out of them, but Stacey always yanked it back into place before anything could happen.

            “Whoa, back off there, kid!” barked the vampire as he pulled the zombie away from a kid dressed up like Superman.  “The fucker dropped acid before we left the house, and he thinks he’s a real zombie, so he’ll bite your hand off if you’re not careful!”  He held up the ragged arm of his black leather jacket and showed off several deep bite-marks.  “Look what he did to me, and I’m his friend!  Hell, the bastard owes me ten bucks, and he still goes and chomps down on me!  There was a ball-gag stuffed in his mouth so he wouldn’t bite anybody, but he bit through it a little while ago, so don’t get too close, all right?”

            “Phew!  He smells horrible!” groaned a matronly woman, holding her nose and waving her hand in front of her face.

            “Yeah, ain’t it great?” asked Stacey, sounding delighted.  “We had to bury the costume in the backyard with a bunch of rotten meat for a week to get it to smell like this!”

            “Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” said the zombie, slightly swaying on its feet.  It reached out for Stacey, its two hands tied together with another length of clothesline, and as soon as it got its hands on his arm, the vampire gave it a sharp smack and yanked on its leash.

            “Back off, you weird fucker!” shouted the black-haired vampire, brandishing an aluminum baseball bat and whacking the zombie in the head with it.  “You bite me again and I’m gonna put this bat right through your throat!”  A couple of parents dragged their reluctant kids away, having had enough of the vampire’s language and coarse treatment of his ‘friend.’

            “Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” said the zombie, looking around for somebody else to try to bite.

            “So are you guys making a zombie movie around here or something?” asked another kid, who was dressed up like a mummy, and Stacey shrugged.

            “There’s always a zombie movie being made somewhere, kid, so probably.  Hey, I’ll trade you a pack of matches for those Milk Duds.”

            “I don’t believe it,” Tommy repeated, feeling a headache coming on.

            “I cannot, either,” said Lupi with a look of disgust.  “That thing is abominable, and it needs to be killed.  But Stacey would not let me kill it until he had … shoved it up your ass.”

            “What?!” exclaimed the professor, turning to look at Lupi.

            She shrugged and gave her head a couple of shakes, which was the werewolf way of demonstrating embarrassment.  “That was what he said he wanted to do with the zombie.  I had nothing to do with it.”

            Tommy ignored the way Dorian chuckled at the remark, and instead looked back towards the zombie.  “Where did you find it?  Were there any others?”

            “We found it following some children a few blocks away,” replied the werewolf.  “I knocked it over and was preparing to kill it when Stacey intervened.  He told me not to kill it, and instead dragged it around until he found a clothesline to tie it up with, getting bit several times in the process when the thing’s gag got broken.”

            “Where’d he get the bat?”

            “There was a child dressed as a baseball player, and Stacey gave him fifty dollars for the bat.  The child thought it to be an incredible deal,” said the werewolf with a touch of amusement.  “Stacey was leading the zombie along in the hopes that we could find a ride over to Donita’s, and we were accosted by children and their parents, who are apparently interested in that horrible-smelling thing.  I refuse to go anywhere near it: I cannot stand the stink of it,” she said with a wuff of disgust.

            “You didn’t see any others?” asked Tommy, not certain whether to be annoyed or worried at the prospect of Stacey successfully apprehending a zombie wandering around suburbia.

            Lupi gave a curt shake of her head.  “None.  This was the only zombie either one of us was able to smell, and we are both fairly certain that it is alone.”

            “Why the hell would a zombie be roaming around here?” asked the professor, rubbing his chin in thought.  “Wherever there’s one zombie, there’s almost always others.  Either somebody makes a bunch of them to fulfill some function, or one starts biting people and making more of them, and … oh hell.  Did you say Stacey was bit?!”

            The werewolf nodded.  “Stacey said it was not serious because the zombie was not virulent.  He told me that he’d been bit by virulent zombies before and knew what it felt like, and these bites did not feel like that.”

            Tommy shook his head.  “Like I’m going to trust his word on something like that.  He’s about as unscientific as they come, and I am not going to get in trouble with Brandi because her idiot boyfriend got bitten by a virulent zombie on my watch.”  He quickly strode away from them and headed over to where Stacey and his pet zombie were standing.

            Lupi turned to Dorian and asked, “Do you think I would get in trouble with Brandi if Stacey got himself into trouble while he was keeping me out of trouble?”

            Dorian shrugged and put a friendly arm around her shoulders.  “Where Stacey’s involved, I have absolute no friggin’ idea, kid.”

            “Move along, there’s nothing more to see here,” barked Tommy as he waded through the children and adults towards Stacey.  “Please back away before somebody gets bitten!  That thing is crawling with germs!”

            “Bitten by what, fuckface?” sneered Stacey when he caught sight of the professor.  “I thought it wasn’t a zombie I saw, but a wino or something else instead!  Wanna go get soused on Thunderbird, Hugo?”

            “Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” replied the zombie, reaching out for some of the kids as the crowd began to dissipate.

            “Yeah, I didn’t think so.  Zombies don’t drink wine, do they?” inquired the vampire, tugging on the creature’s leash.

            “Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!”

            “Hey, Tommy!  Check this out!” Stacey exclaimed, grabbing the zombie by the arm and shoving him towards the professor.

            The zombie bumped into the vampire and tried to grab hold of him, and a wave of decay-stench hit Tommy squarely in the nose, making him want to gag as he frantically shoved the horrid thing away.  The warm and humid climate of Los Angeles definitely wasn’t the best place in the world for dead bodies to hang out in if they wanted to avoid decomposition.  The creature then attempted to bite Tommy’s face, but it was stopped dead when Stacey yanked back on its leash and pulled it over backwards onto the sidewalk, where it hit with a mushy thud.

            “Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!  Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” growled the zombie as it struggled to get back to its feet.  Stacey obligingly hauled it back up and then whacked it in the head with the bat several times.

            “Settle down, you dead piece of shit!” admonished the vampire.  After a few moments, the zombie actually seemed to obey, and remained where it was, hungrily watching the departing people.

            “You irresponsible son of a bitch!  He could’ve bitten my nose off!” Tommy snapped, wiping grime and detritus from the front of his shirt and denim jacket.

            “Shit, Tommy-Cat, I figured you could handle a dirty wino just fine!” crowed Stacey, grinning slyly at the other vampire.  “Probably a bad thing I’ve got him all restrained, huh?  I should probably just let him go before the authorities show up, eh?”

            Tommy fixed Stacey with an arch glare and growled deep in his throat.  “You will do no such thing!  We have to find out more about this creature’s origins and how much of a danger it poses!”

            “Say you’re sorry you yelled at me and didn’t believe me, and I won’t let Hugo go,” said Stacey, clearly enjoying himself.

            “You are a miserable, insufferable creature, do you know that?”

            “Yeah, but I found a zombie running around these nice neighborhoods, and caught him and stopped him before he chewed on any kids, and you didn’t even stop the car to let me out, because you didn’t believe me when I said I saw a zombie,” said Stacey in a terribly snotty tone of voice.  “Why, if it wasn’t for me, old Hugo here might have made a snack of some innocent kids, and on Halloween, no less!  Who’s irresponsible now, Mr. Peabody?  You really should apologize to me, especially since you probably got your paranormal degrees from a box of Cracker Jacks, seeing as how you don’t even know a zombie when—ack!”

            Tommy plowed into Stacey and knocked him over onto the grass next to the sidewalk, intent upon strangling the little bastard, if only to get him to shut up.  “It’ll be a cold day on the sun before I apologize to the likes of you, you little troglodyte!” bellowed the professor as he tried to get his hands around the other vampire’s neck.

            “Augh!  Rape!  Rape!  Get this pervert off me!” screeched Stacey, squirming around like a wild lizard as he tried to get away from the furious scholar.

            In the struggle, Stacey dropped the zombie’s leash, and sensing its freedom, the zombie immediately turned and began to shamble down the sidewalk, focused on a group of trick-or-treaters watching the fight with much amusement a short distance away.  “Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” said the zombie in anticipation.

            Fortunately, Lupi was on the ball, and she smashed into the zombie from behind before it had traveled very far.  The zombie landed on the sidewalk with a wet splat, and Lupi grabbed its head and started slamming the zombie’s face into the concrete over and over again.  She let fly with a howl of battle-ready fury as she pounded away on the zombie, unable to restrain herself.

            Parents on both sides of the street quickly pulled their kids away from the two fights, and several of them mentioned something about calling the cops.  Dorian shrugged apologetically at everyone and seriously considered hopping into Tommy’s car and taking off, letting this mess sort itself out, because this kind of thing just wasn’t his scene.

            “Don’t kill him!  I’ve got plans for him!’ howled Stacey when he saw Lupi mauling his new pet.  He gouged Tommy in the eye with a practiced thumb and shoved the professor off him, scrambling towards the zombie and werewolf.  He tackled Lupi, knocking her off the zombie, and despite his age and considerable strength, he found that he had quite a struggle keeping the young werewolf held back.  Fortunately, she was still in her human form; she was quite a bit stronger in her wolfen form, and he probably would’ve lost that struggle under the circumstances.  “Chill out, wolf-girl!” he bellowed.

            “That thing disgusts me!  I cannot stand being around it!” snarled the werewolf.  “It is a dead thing anyway, so it is only natural for me to want to put it back into the ground where it belongs!”

            “I’ve got plans, kiddo,” hissed the vampire into her ear, “And they’re really good ones, too.  Just chill out and leave it be, and it’ll definitely be worth your while.”

            “Can I kill it then?” demanded the she-wolf.

            “You won’t even have to.  The problem will totally take care of itself, trust me.  Have I ever led you astray?”

            “Well … no,” replied the werewolf, unable to think of any instance where the vampire had misled her in any way.  If anything, Stacey was the most openly honest and obscenely direct individual she’d ever met.  “But I thought you just wanted to show it to Tommy and prove that he was wrong and that was it.”

            “Oh, there’s more than that,” chuckled Stacey.  “That thing’s gonna make for one of my finest Halloween moments ever.  Just you wait.”

            “Very well,” conceded Lupi with a sigh.  She looked over in the zombie’s direction and growled.  “It is getting away.”

            “Shit!”  Stacey quickly detangled himself from Lupi and hurried after the zombie, which had already gotten back to its feet and was once again shambling in the direction of the closest group of trick-or-treaters, which were all making loud sounds of approval at the creature’s appearance.

            “That’s the best costume I’ve ever seen!” called out a young girl dressed as a commando, her friends echoing her sentiment.  “Cool!”

            Stacey looped the zombie’s leash around his hand and yanked on it, stopping it in its tracks.  “Heel, Hugo!  You’ve already had your kids for the day!  No more, you greedy fuck!”

            “Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” said the zombie, clearly disappointed at being apprehended before getting hold of the children.

            Stacey dragged the zombie backwards, bringing it to heel as though it were merely an oversized and foul-smelling dog, and Lupi eyed it hatefully, baring her teeth at it.  The effect wasn’t the same as it would have been if she’d been in wolf form, as her human teeth weren’t nearly as dangerous-looking as her wolfen ones, but it still made her look pretty pissed-off nonetheless.

“C’mon, turn that frown upside-down!” Stacey chided her.  “It’s Halloween, the greatest holiday of them all!  We’ve already seen a bitchin’ parade today, during which you got to see me knock that obnoxious clown off that float with a well-aimed rock, we caught a zombie of our very own, I’m going to take you trick-or-treating here in a few moments, and later on you’re gonna see me pull off one of my better Halloween pranks!  What’s there to be so sour about?”

“I hate that thing,” snarled the she-wolf, looking sullen.

“And I’m sure he’s not too fond of you, either, especially since you messed up his face on the sidewalk.  Right, Hugo?”

“Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!”  Whereas before the zombie was merely decayed-looking and ugly, Lupi’s attack on it had left it with a decidedly smashed-looking visage, as though the thing had been chasing a parked car and had managed to catch it.

“See?  It’s a mutual thing.  But it’ll all be worthwhile, take my word for it.  Here, have some Milk Duds,” said the vampire, pulling a slightly-squashed yellow cardboard container out of the inner pocket of his jacket and offering it to Lupi.

The she-wolf looked dubiously at the dark chocolate lumps Stacey poured into her hand, and she sniffed at them cautiously.  “What is a Milk Dud?”

“One of the greatest candies ever made, and well worth giving that kid a pack of matches for,” replied Stacey, upending the box over his mouth and dumping several of them in.  “Just scarf ‘em,” he advised her around the mouthful of candy.  “They’re good that way.”

Following his advice, Lupi shoved the handful of Milk Duds into her mouth and began to chew.  Three seconds later, her features transmuted into horror and revulsion.  She made a loud whimpering sound and tried to tough it out, but even her flexible werewolf palate couldn’t withstand the sickly sweet flavor of the Milk Duds, and after a few moments she doubled over and hacked the chewed wad onto the sidewalk, her entire body shuddering.

“Now what did you go and do that for?” demanded Stacey, looking shocked.

“Ugh!  They are awful!” she moaned, hanging her tongue out of her mouth as best she could in her human form.  “I would rather eat my own waste!”

Stacey frowned and looked at the box, and then sniffed at it.  “Maybe you got a couple of bad ones.  That happens sometimes.  Here, have some more.”  He held out the box and Lupi shrank away from it with a very wolf-like whine, strings of drool hanging from her tongue.

“I think I swallowed some of them!” she yowled as she scuttled off the sidewalk and into the closest yard, then dropped into a furtive crouch and began to pull up handfuls of grass, stuffing them into her mouth with a near-frantic air.

Stacey shook his head.  “Fuckin’ kids.  Don’t know what the good stuff is.”  Next to him, the zombie was leaning over and awkwardly picking up the chewed wad of Milk Duds from the sidewalk.  The vampire watched in fascination as the zombie, with its poor coordination and bound hands, managed to grasp hold of the wad and put the chewed candy into its mouth.  Though Lupi had knocked most of its teeth out, the zombie still had enough for eating, and it stood back up, chewing the Milk Duds with an almost thoughtful expression on what was left of its face.

“Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” it mumbled, sounding approving.

Stacey literally squealed with delight and hopped up and down for several moments before turning in Lupi’s direction.  “Even Hugo likes them!  You’re just being picky!”

Still hunched over in the grass, Lupi held up her hand and wordlessly gave him the finger.  Though she was still adapting to the myriad customs and social mores around the city, flipping the bird was one expression that she’d become a master of.

“Let me go, damn you!  I’m past the point of killing him outright!” Tommy snapped to Dorian, who was calmly restraining his agitated friend.  “I’ll save my revenge for another time, after we’ve figured out this zombie dilemma.”

“You sure?” asked Dorian.  “You don’t want to get picked up by the cops a second time tonight, do you?”

“You got picked up by the cops?” asked Stacey gleefully, moving over to the other two vampires, dragging Hugo along behind him.  “You?”

“I didn’t get ‘picked up’ by the police,” replied Tommy, straightening his denim jacket after Dorian had let go of him, “I was pulled over and given a ticket for speeding in a residential area.  After I received my ticket, I was let go.”

“He has to go to traffic school,” Dorian informed Stacey, and the two of them shared a rather childish giggle over the thought, sounding like a pair of cretins.

“I’m going to see about having it revoked by one of our half-blood compatriots in the police department, seeing as how I got the ticket because I was trying to find you and Lupi before you got yourselves into some sort of trouble,” the professor said haughtily.

“You were speeding while looking for us?  You?” asked Stacey with a smirk.  “Aww, you were afraid Brandi was gonna rough you up for losing us, weren’t you?”

Tommy gave Stacey a very dirty look, which was rendered a bit comical due to the fact that one of his eyes was nearly squinted shut from the thumb Stacey had gouged into it a short while before.  “You troll.  I hate you.”

“If you didn’t, I’d think I wasn’t doing my job properly,” replied the black-haired vampire.  “Isn’t that right, Hugo?”

“Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” replied the zombie, still chewing the Milk Duds contentedly.

Tommy regarded the zombie for a few moments, and then leaned forward curiously.  “What is he eating?”

“Milk Duds,” said Stacey proudly.  “He likes ‘em.”

“Surely you’re joking,” scoffed the professor.  “The only thing zombies eat is either living flesh or dead flesh, and it almost always has to be human.”

“Not this one,” said Stacey, and he grabbed hold of Hugo’s hand and put several Milk Duds into it.  “Eat up.”

The zombie clumsily put the Milk Duds into its mouth and began to chew away at them.  “Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!”

“Pretty cool,” said Dorian.  “I guess even zombies like candy, albeit the shitty kind.  Did you teach him to do that?”

“Nope, he went and grabbed ‘em on his own,” answered Stacey, pleased with his zombie.

Tommy shook his head, looking genuinely impressed.  “Remarkable.  I’ve never seen anything like that.  I wonder why it is that he likes the candy …”

“Well, just look at him,” said Stacey, hooking a thumb in the zombie’s direction.  “He was a fat fuck when he was alive, and nine times out of ten, big fat guys like candy, so there’s probably something rattling around in his brain that remembers that candy’s good shit.”

“You think so?” the vampire scholar asked, all scorn out of his voice now as he ran the theory round and round in his mind.  “In past encounters with zombies of the corpse variety, I have noticed some actions that might have been vestigial behaviors from before they died.  This is also the first time that I’ve ever seen an overweight zombie; all of the others I’ve observed have been either lean or outright emaciated, so perhaps they were hungering for flesh in order to—why is Lupi eating grass?”

Stacey glanced over at the werewolf.  “She doesn’t like Milk Duds.”

“I can’t say that I blame her.  Those things are repugnant,” said the professor.

Stacey looked wounded as he stuffed some more of the candy into his mouth, and then gave more to the zombie.  “You’re all a pack of sissy, prissy, picky wusses!” he declared, “And neither one of you would know a good candy if it bit you on the ass!”

“Drop dead,” grunted Tommy, and over in the grass, Lupi again gave Stacey the finger.

“At least Hugo isn’t an entirely lost cause, though I never thought I’d see the day that a fatass zombie would have my back on something,” Stacey said.  He grinned.  “I fuckin’ love Halloween.”

Tommy snorted.  “I still can’t believe that you actually named that shuffling carcass, as though it’s a pet.  That thing could be indicative of a very serious—“

“I didn’t name him.  Hugo is his name,” interrupted Stacey.

“Oh, and did he tell you?” asked Tommy with a roll of his eyes.

“No, but his driver’s license did.”  Stacey rummaged around in his jacket and pulled out a dirty wallet and tossed it over to the professor, who deftly caught it.

Tommy opened up the wallet and quickly rifled through it.  “Don’t bother looking for cash.  I already took everything he had,” said Stacey, and the other vampire ignored him, expecting no less.  Within a few seconds, he’d found a driver’s license, and after taking a moment to compare the photo on it to the smashed features of the zombie, he concluded that this was, in fact, the zombie’s license.

“Hugo James Rubenstein,” said the professor.  “I’ll be damned.”  He read the rest of the details on the little plastic card, taking particular interest in the address.  “He lived only a few blocks from here,” Tommy said, feeling a twitter of excitement rise up at the possibility of finding more clues as to the zombie’s mysterious appearance in this unassuming section of town.

“Yeah, I was gonna work my way over there eventually,” said Stacey.  “Maybe find out what happened to the guy and possibly do a little looting if nobody else had cleaned him out first.”

Dorian shook his head.  “Damn, you’ve got no decency whatsoever, man.”

“Well, it’s not like he’s gonna need any of it any more!  Zombies don’t need worldly possessions!” Stacey said defensively.

“Technically, neither do vampires,” the other vampire replied.

“Yeah, whatever, dude,” Stacey snorted.  “If you’re gonna take that attitude, you mind if I go over to your house and take all your stuff?”

“Fuck you, jack.  You touch any of my stuff and I’m gonna turn you into seat covers for my car.”

Stacey nodded knowingly.  “I rest my case.”

Dorian glowered at the slim vampire for a moment.  “Dick.”

“Silence yourselves before I’m forced to resort to violence to shut you both up,” growled Tommy, going through the rest of the zombie’s wallet, looking for clues.  He’d already noticed a slight scorched smell on the wallet, with a hint of ozone, in addition to the scent of decay it had picked up from Hugo himself.

“Aw, fuck you, Mr. Peabody, you ain’t doin’ shit,” replied Stacey haughtily.

“Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” said Hugo, coming to the defense of the one that had given him the Milk Duds.

“Yeah, piss off while we’re having a discussion,” added Dorian.

Tommy nonchalantly reached behind his back and whipped out the .45 Magnum he’d tucked into the waistband of his jeans when he’d gotten out of the car.  He casually aimed it at both of the other vampires and the zombie, who jumped in surprise at the appearance of the big, imposing gun.  Well, Hugo didn’t jump, actually.  He just stared dumbly at the gun, a dim part of his brain wondering if it was something else he could eat.  “Shut.  Up.”

Dorian put his hands up and adopted his most reasonable manner.  “Okay, okay, shutting up.”

“Yo, where’d you get that?  I thought you were just packing that pussy little Saturday Night Special!” squeaked Stacey, moving back a little bit so that he could duck behind Hugo if necessary.

“If you must know, it’s my new carjacking deterrent, and I didn’t want to pull it out of its hiding place in the car while you were in there, because I don’t want you to know where I keep it stashed,” said the professor, unable to keep a hint of smugness out of his voice.  “I brought it with me just in case there … I needed it,” he finished, gritting his teeth, because he just knew what was coming next.

“Just in case you needed it?  In a suburban neighborhood currently populated by nervous parents and snot-nosed trick-or-treaters?” asked Stacey, a big grin crossing his face.  “You meant just in case there were zombies running around, didn’t you?  You can make fun of me all you want, but some part of you gave me enough credit that you brought along some anti-zombie firepower, in the event of there being one or more zombies!  Ha ha, you don’t think I’m a complete idiot!  You actually gave me a little bit of credibility!  Nyah nyah nyah!”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at the other vampire.  He was getting ready to fire off a truly witty reply when a kid’s voice asked, “Is that a real gun?”

Everybody save Hugo looked over at where a couple of kids, dressed as cowboys, were watching them from the sidewalk.  “Don’t you have something better to be doing?” snapped Tommy, annoyed that his riposte to Stacey had been interrupted.  “As I was going to say—“

“Naw, it ain’t real,” said the black-haired vampire.  “It’s just a big-ass cap-gun back from the days when the damned things didn’t have to be day-glo orange.  He’s just waving it around because he’s got a problem with inadequacy.”

“Why, you miserable little—“

“That guy’s got a great costume,” said the shorter of the two cowboys, pointing at Hugo, who was eyeing them hungrily.  “He smells like the bathroom after my dad’s been in there for awhile.”

“Pretty boss, isn’t it?” asked Stacey.  “Check this out.”  He opened up his mouth and his fangs fluidly slid down into place, and then his eyes started to glow with a reddish light.  “I’m a vampire!” he exclaimed.  “Cool, huh?”

The two kids exchanged glances and then snorted at him.  “Yeah, whatever,” said the bigger one.  “That’s lame as hell.  The zombie guy is a lot cooler.  He actually looks authentic.”

The shorter one continued with, “You’re not even dressed like a vampire!  Where’s your cape?  You’re the fakest vampire I’ve ever seen.”

Stacey scowled and gave the two the evil-eye as Tommy and Dorian chuckled.  “You want me to bite you and show you how fake I am?” he growled.

The boys both looked disgusted, and the bigger one sneered, “No way!  What are you?  Chester the Molester?”

“Yeah, that’s what he’s really supposed to be,” piped in the smaller kid, “Chester the Molester!”

“Chester the Molester!  Chester the Molester!” chanted the two young cowboys, and the expression on Stacey’s face was positively murderous.

“Man, fuck you both,” he growled.  “Why don’t you go play in traffic?”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, Chester?” retorted the bigger kid, who took two steps forward and kicked Stacey squarely in the balls.

But instead of agony, Stacey’s response was one of fury.  “Oh no you didn’t!  So it’s like that, huh?” he growled at the two surprised kids.  He leveled a finger at them and jabbed it in their direction.  “You’re both so lucky my pain threshold makes Evil Knevil piss his pants!”

“Eat a dick!” shouted the smaller kid, kicking Stacey in the nuts as hard as he could.  But thanks to Stacey’s supernatural resistance to pain, all the kid did was irk the vampire even further.

“You little shits!  I’m gonna molest your skulls with my fuckin’ boot!” snarled the vampire, and he yanked on the zombie’s leash.  “C’mon, Hugo!  Let’s get ‘em!”

“Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” exclaimed the zombie, lurching forward after Stacey as the vampire charged the two kids.  Hugo made it two steps and then promptly fell flat on his face.  He was then dragged along the sidewalk for a short distance, leaving a rather putrid trail of scraped flesh and congealed blood, before Stacey finally let go of his leash as he ran after the kids.

“Chester the Molester!  Chester the Molester!” shouted the kids as they ran along, and Stacey screeched obscenities in response.

“Normally he’s so good with children,” remarked Dorian.

Tommy shrugged and watched the zombie struggle back to his feet as he slipped on a pair of black gloves he’d taken from the pockets of his jacket.  “The fact that he hasn’t actually caught up to those two and beat the hell out of them yet says that he is being good with them.  If that pair of cretins were over eighteen, I suspect that Stacey would have thrown them both into trees or on top of somebody’s roof by this point.  His restraint is outstanding,” he said dryly.   He strode over to the zombie, grabbed the leash, and gave it a sharp tug.  “Heel, Hugo,” he said in a sharp, authoritative voice, feeling utterly ridiculous.

But the zombie reluctantly turned away from the direction of the fleeing children towards Tommy, looking at the professor with a modicum of curiosity.  “Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh?”

“Dorian, be a good man and hold this creature’s lead for me, will you?” he asked, holding the clothesline leash out to the other vampire, who looked at it with some trepidation.

“What if he bites me?”

Tommy scowled at him.  “According to what Lupi told us and from the condition of the sleeve of his jacket, Stacey was bit several times, and he’s suffering no ill effects.”

Dorian moved over next to Tommy but still looked at the leash as though it was a cobra. “Yeah, that’s all well and good, but you and I both know that Stacey’s got an insane resistance to stuff like that.  Remember when all those wild raccoons bit him and he got rabies, but his system killed it off in about an hour?  With all the shit he pokes around in and all the stuff that likes to bite him, he’s probably got an immune system from hell.  I don’t think I’ve got that luxury.”

“Don’t be so dense.  Hugo here isn’t of the virulent variety of zombie, of that I’m certain.  I got a look at Stacey’s bites while I was tussling with him, and there was none of the discoloration or smell that’s associated with virulent zombie bites.  The fact that Stacey was even able to catch rabies when all of those raccoons bit him is proof that while his immune system is indeed formidable, it’s not immediately proof against everything.  If he could catch rabies from the bites of raccoons, then the bites of a virulent zombie would have some sort of effect on him, albeit temporary, and if any symptoms had manifested themselves, he would’ve been sure to whine about them to us, because every time he has a problem, no matter how minor, he makes sure everybody around him knows about it.  So stop being a coward and heel the zombie while I check him over,” said Tommy, holding the leash out to Dorian, who carefully took it and regarded Hugo cautiously.

“Heel, boy,” he said.

“Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” replied Hugo.

Keeping the Magnum tucked in the waistband of his jeans, just in case, the scholar began to quickly inspect both the zombie.  “Same smell on the clothes as on the wallet, beneath the scent of rot,” he muttered.  “Some discoloration, minor burns.  Hmm … flesh also exhibits some indication of burns, though the decay and recent damage make them hard to judge.  Decay rate consistent with this climate, probably deceased for about a week.  No signs of embalming or autopsy.  Stop that,” he snapped at Hugo, who kept trying to bite Tommy’s fingers as the professor examined the creature’s head.  “No signs of deep trauma …”

Down the street, Stacey had ran afoul of the two cowboy kids’ father, who was a large man that indeed looked as though he could make a bathroom smell as bad as a zombie if given the proper time, and Dorian watched the two parties argue with interest while Tommy ignored the ruckus.

“Those rotten brats kicked me in the nuts not once but twice!” Stacey yelled at the big man, who glared down at the short vampire while the two kids peered out from behind his legs.  “I wasn’t gonna hurt ‘em, I was just gonna put the fear into ‘em!”

“He said he was gonna molest our skulls with his boot!” said the bigger kid, and that got his father, who was a bit of a dim man, all riled up.

“You was gonna molest ‘em?” he demanded, a dark scowl forming on his thick features.  “What kinda sicko pervert are ya?”

“The kind that doesn’t like it when somebody’s rotten kids kick him in the nuts, that’s what kind!” retorted the vampire.

“That don’t give you no right to molest my fuckin’ kids, pal!” growled the angry father, poking Stacey in the chest with a finger as thick as a railroad spike.  “You sicko kid-fucker!”

“Look, when I said I was gonna molest their skulls with my boot, I meant I was gonna kick them in their heads, okay?  It was a clever play on words.  Though from the looks of you, you don’t do much playing with words, and if there was any justice in the universe, you would’ve just played with yourself before sticking it to your wife those two times,” said Stacey.

The father blinked several times as he processed this, and then his face turned several shades of red as his brain finally came up with an interpretation.  “You was gonna kick my kids in the head and then molest ‘em with your boot?!  I oughta kill you!” he snarled as he shook a fist at Stacey.

“Whatever, dude.  The only thing you can kill is semi-intelligent conversation,” said the vampire with a roll of his eyes.  “And people say I bring the room down.”  He grinned at the big man and said, “Look, I’ve got this thing where I won’t beat up a guy in front of his kids, so why don’t you just take a swing at me and get it over with, huh?”

The big man blinked several more times.  “What?”

Stacey sighed.  “I’m gonna kick your kids in the head and then molest them with my boot.”

“Fuck you, pervert!” screamed the father, and he let go with a massive haymaker on Stacey, catching the vampire squarely on the jaw.

The vampire barely flinched, but the big man howled, clutching his now-aching hand as he hopped up and down in agony, his two kids watching with considerable surprise.  That hadn’t happened when daddy had hit the mailman like that last month!

“Okay, yeah, that’s done.  Back to the ranch,” said Stacey triumphantly, turning around to walk away.

“Oh no you don’t!” bellowed the big man, grabbing Stacey by his long hair and jerking his head backwards.

“Stubborn prick,” said Dorian a few moments later as he watched Stacey and the father make motions of kicking dirt on each others’ feet and then got nose-to-nose as they screamed at each other, as though they were professional baseball players.

Tommy glanced past the zombie.  “Yes, it seems that Stacey choose a rather thick specimen to debate with this time.”

“Actually, I meant Stacey.”

“No comment necessary.”  The professor stepped back from the zombie, removed his gloves, and then leaned over to wipe them off in the grass.  “Well, I think I’ve learned just about all I can from this foul-smelling thing.  Our next step is to head over to his former domicile and see what we can find out from there.  I’m certain that this zombie was no random accident, and since it’s not virulent, it’s unlikely it was created by another zombie, as well as the fact that it hasn’t created any other zombies by biting random people.”

Dorian frowned, keeping an eye on Hugo, who was looking at him as though he found the vampire rather appetizing.  “And this means … ?”

Tommy stuffed the gloves back into his pockets and said, “Somebody zombified the corpse of Hugo Rubenstein, either through ritual or chemical means, and didn’t do a very good job of it.”

Lupi had rejoined them by this point, and she snorted.  “Obviously they did not do a very good job.  That thing is awful.”

“Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” said Hugo.

“So what do we do with him?” asked Dorian, taking a step away from Hugo, who had shuffled a step towards the vampire.

Tommy shrugged.  “Simple enough.  We’ll lay him down on a sewer grate and shoot him in the head; everyone will dismiss it as Halloween theatricality.  You and Stacey can even caper around and chant nonsense while I do it, if you like.  I’ve got a tarp in my car, and we’ll wrap up the body in it, and then take it out to my house and burn the remains.  Problem solved.”

Lupi looked apprehensive.  “I do not think Stacey would like that,” she said slowly, as though the words pained her.

“Well of course he wouldn’t,” said Tommy.  “He seems to think of this creature as a pet, when it’s nothing more than a disaster waiting to happen.  It would be irresponsible to let it continue along like it is.”

“That is true,” said Lupi, “But I still do not think Stacey would like that.  He said he had … plans for it.”

“What were those plans, exactly?”

“I do not know.  Stacey would not say.”

“I see,” replied Tommy with a nod.  “Now I really want to shoot the thing, before that nitwit does something stupid.”

Lupi shifted uncomfortably.  “Stacey did find it.  Isn’t the saying ‘finders keepers, losers weepers?’”

“Stacey lives by that credo,” observed Dorian, taking another step away from Hugo.  “If you shoot Hugo, you’re liable never to hear the end of it.  He still bitches about that scratch you put in his copy of the Stones’ Aftermath back in ‘67.  Guy holds a grudge for decades.”

Tommy said nothing for several moments, internally debating with himself, and he finally said, “Very well, then.  Stacey is welcome to keep Hugo and do as he sees fit with the zombie for the time being, as long as it doesn’t attack me.  If Hugo attacks me, I’m blowing his head off.  I’ll just let—”

“You’re going to blow off Stacey’s head?!” demanded Lupi, snarling ferociously.  “You will do no such thing!”

“No, Hugo’s head!” said Tommy, exasperation in his voice.  “Nobody ever lets me finish a damned thought around here, and—“

“Sorry,” said the werewolf, shaking her head in embarrassment.

Tommy ground his teeth and bit back a caustic remark, because unlike Stacey when he apologized, the young she-wolf actually did mean it.  “Anyway, as I was saying, I’ll just let it go for the moment, until I’ve got more information in my possession.”

Tommy took the leash from Dorian’s hand, and then sharply smacked Hugo when the zombie reached for him, his hands still bound together with clothesline.  “Stop that,” he barked in such an acidic tone of voice that Hugo put his hands back down.  He turned to Lupi.  “Dorian and I are going to go to Hugo’s former place of residence and inspect the grounds to see if we can unearth any clues as to Hugo’s origins.”

“I will go with you!” said Lupi urgently, clearly wanting to get away from the zombie.  “My sense of smell will be invaluable to your investigation, especially if I shift to my wolfen form.”

The professor shook his head and handed the dismayed werewolf Hugo’s leash.  “No can do.  You’ve got to keep Stacey and his pet zombie out of trouble and away from us while we conduct the investigation.  It would be impossible to do any significant work at Hugo’s home with Stacey wandering around looting the place and that damned zombie stumbling into things.”

Lupi looked at the leash in her hand, then back to Tommy, and let out a long and loud whine, her face a study of misery.

“Can’t she come along?” asked Dorian, unable to stand it.  “She probably would be a big help, her nose is as sharp as can be.”

Tommy gave him a derisive look.  “That may very well be true, as werewolves’ senses of smell are the stuff of legend, but do you really want Stacey and Hugo running around here loose, without a voice of reason to help keep them in check, or at least occupied until we rejoin them?”

Dorian considered that for half a second, and then turned to Lupi apologetically.  “Sorry, kid.”

“Stay in the area,” Tommy said sternly, waggling a finger at the werewolf.  “We’ll come back and find you when we’re finished.  It shouldn’t take more than an hour or two.  We’ll still be at Donita’s party with plenty of time to spare.”

The two vampires stepped away from the werewolf and the zombie, heading back over to Tommy’s car.  “Let me grab my kit out of the back, and we’ll be on our way,” the professor said, and that was that.  Lupi was now stuck with the cursed zombie while Stacey argued with the big oaf down the street.

She glared at the zombie with feral eyes, hating it and the violation of natural order that it represented.

“Rrrrruuuuuhhhhh!” said Hugo.

Lupi growled deep in her throat and bared her teeth at the zombie, hostility oozing from every pore of her body.

She stared Hugo down for almost a minute before finally losing her patience and shouting, “Stacey!  Come get your stupid zombie!  I am not watching it any longer!”

*     *     *

            It didn’t take Tommy and Dorian long to reach Hugo’s house, which was a nice one-level affair that spoke of a comfortable income while still maintaining an air of modesty.  The two vampires stood on the sidewalk outside the house and gave it a visual once-over, Tommy’s practiced eye looking for anything out of the ordinary, but they were unable to discern anything beyond an overgrown lawn and a pile of newspapers at the door.

            “Looks pretty peaceful,” said Dorian, lighting a cigarette.

            “Hmm,” murmured Tommy.  “John Wayne Gacy’s house also looked pretty unassuming from the outside.  Nice suburban-style housing often provides a pretty cover for some truly rotten things.”

            “All right then, Mr. Killjoy.”

            “The most intelligent are often the most cynical,” said Tommy, “because they know what kind of crap goes on when nobody’s looking.”  He glanced around the neighborhood, which was well-lit and quiet, most of the trick-or-treaters having passed through already, with only a few stragglers here and there.  “Now that’s interesting.”

            “What?”

            “Take a gander at that.”  The professor pointed to the house across the street, where there was a conspicuous hole in the wooden fence surrounding the backyard.  Broken pieces of wood were scattered around the hole, as though something on the inside had smashed its way out.  Perhaps something like a zombie.

            “Don’t see that sort of thing in respectable neighborhoods very often,” observed Dorian.

            “Not at all.  When something like that happens, it’s generally cleaned up pretty quickly, so that the neighbors don’t talk,” said Tommy.  “I’m guessing it’s probably a pretty recent renovation.  I’ve got a feeling it might be in our best interests to go check things out over there first.”

            “Sure, why not?”

            The two vampires went across the street and stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of the house with the broken fence.  “Pretty unassuming,” said Dorian with a smirk aimed at Tommy.

            Getting the feeling that he was being lightly mocked, Tommy scowled.  “Shut up.”

            “You’re never the most pleasant person to deal with, but after you’ve been around Stacey for awhile, you’re just a bastard, you know that?” asked the light blond vampire, tossing his cigarette into the gutter.

            “Yes,” replied Tommy, digging into the black leather case, which resembled an old-fashioned doctor’s bag except larger, he’d taken out of the back of his car and had brought with him.  It was his paranormal investigation kit, containing just about everything he needed for accurate field analysis of supernatural happenings, and he never went on an investigation without it.

After a few moments he produced his PKE, or psychokinetic energy, reader and turned it on.  The device, which he’d built himself years ago and had worked most of the bugs out of, was slightly larger than a cordless phone handset and displayed information regarding any psychokinetic energy in the area; it was basically a Geiger counter designed for use in detecting energies closely related to ghosts, spooks, and things of that sort.  Though intended to be used mostly in dealing with noncorporeal entities like ghosts, Tommy had found that certain types of zombies also emitted low-grade psychokinetic energy, and would leave traces of it in their wake.  He’d pulled out the PKE reader several times on the walk over to Hugo’s house, and every time he’d been rewarded with a faint but discernable reading, assuring him that they were on the right trail.

The PKE reader beeped loudly as soon as Tommy turned it on, and after studying the data on the reader’s little screen, the professor strode forward into the yard and walked right over to the fence.  “Grab my bag,” he absently said as he adjusted the small knobs on the side of the reader.

Before Dorian could even make a comment on how Tommy had just boldly walked into somebody else’s yard without even considering the fact that there might be someone home, the scholar was crouched down in the grass looking over the pieces of broken fence, muttering to himself as he always did while in the middle of an interesting investigation.  The other vampire chuckled, picked up the black leather bag, and followed Tommy.  Besides, Dorian was armed with an extremely fined-tuned low-grade telepathy, so it wasn’t like somebody was going to be able to easily sneak up on them.

When he reached the fence, Tommy held up a piece of broken board, which was smeared with grime and congealed blood.  “Even without the reader to confirm it, I think that it’s clear that Hugo’s been through here, and recently, at that,” said the professor.  When Dorian declined to take the board for closer examination, Tommy tossed it aside and held up the PKE reader, adjusting the knobs again as he studied its bright digital readout.  “The whole backyard is lousy with residual psychokinetic energy, and it seems to be originating from … over … there,” Tommy said as he slowly panned the reader over the backyard, coming to settle on a smashed-up shed in the far corner.  Tommy then twiddled the knobs on the reader, panning it around again, and finally shut it off and handed it over to Dorian, who put it back in the bag out of long practice with this sort of thing.

“Nothing else, save for Hugo’s and a fading background reading that I’m certain was generated during the creation of the zombie.”  Tommy hopped back to his feet and strode into the backyard as though he owned it, and he called back to Dorian, “It seems as though somebody attempted to restrain the creature in their shed, and made a miscalculation regarding a determined zombie’s strength.”

Dorian frowned.  Tommy, who was normally so meticulous about going through the proper procedures when performing an investigation, wasn’t being very careful about this … it wasn’t his style to just march into situations and then talk loudly while doing so.  Sneaky and scientific was Tommy’s thing, for sure.  Surely Stacey couldn’t have agitated him so much this evening that Tommy was going to be sloppy; he’d seen the professor maintain a clinical and supremely professional air when it came to his work