“What is it?” asked Nix.
But Benny only shook his head. He shuffled sideways to give himself and Nix enough room to swing their swords.
“Look . . . ,” said Lilah in an urgent whisper.
There was a suggestion of movement beyond the doors, inside the darkened kitchen. It was formless and indistinct, like a piece of shadow shifting, and Benny couldn’t even be sure it was anything at all.
There was a sound. A scuff. Soft and passive, like a foot being dragged.
“Get ready,” whispered Joe. “If this goes south on us, I want you to haul your asses back to the chopper.”
Something was emerging from the darkness. It did not look human. It was big and monstrous, with a misshapen head and limbs as thick as tree trunks.
Grimm’s whole body trembled, either with the urge to attack or flee, Benny could not tell. For his own part, Benny wanted to run.
The lumbering creature kept moving forward, and now Benny could see that it had some weird, wrinkled skin. Pale and unnatural.
“Shoot it,” urged Lilah. “Joe . . . shoot it!”
When Joe didn’t pull the trigger, Lilah raised her spear and tensed to spring, ready for the kill.
“No,” Nix said slowly, “don’t . . .”
Benny glanced at her. She wore a puzzled expression, and she slowly lowered her sword.
They froze in place, watching in mingled horror and anticipation as the thing shambled toward the open doorway. It paused, still within the bank of shadows inside the kitchen. Joe slipped his finger inside the trigger guard.
Benny felt sweat run down his cheeks.
Then the thing in the shadows stepped into the light.
“Oh my God,” said Nix.
It was not a monster.
It was not a zom.
It was a person, covered head to toe in a wrinkled, many-times-patched, white hazmat suit.
The figure took a trembling step forward and then dragged its leg. Benny could see now that the leg of the suit was stretched around something—a cast or brace.
But what truly caught his eye, what stopped his breath and jolted his mind, was the name stenciled on the front of the hazmat suit. His lips formed the three syllables, though it was Lilah who actually spoke the name aloud.
“McReady.”
She flinched at the sound of Lilah’s voice, or perhaps at her own name. Then she looked at Joe Ledger—at his gun and his murderous armored hound.
“Have you come to kill me?” asked Dr. Monica McReady, her voice muffled by the suit.
The ranger’s mouth hung open.
Dr. McReady nodded as if in answer to her own question. “It’s about time.”
68
“WHAT’S THAT?” ASKED BROTHER ALBERT.
His teacup was halfway to his lips when he froze, head raised to listen. Across the table from him, Sister Hannahlily was buttering a piece of bread.