Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum 24)

“Sure, I get that,” Lula said, “but what if he doesn’t go to her front door? What if he’s going to her back door? I’m gonna sneak between these two houses, and see if he’s at the back door.”

“No!”

Too late. She was off and tippy-toe running to the back of the house. And then she was out of sight, around the corner of the building.

“Stop!” she shouted. “You’re under arrest, sort of. Actually, we can’t arrest you, but we can apprehend you.”

I took off at a dead run. It was pitch-black between the houses, and there wasn’t much light at the back. I heard something crash. I heard Lula cussing. More crashing.

“Damn fucking gnomes,” Lula said.

I turned into the backyard and ran into a gnome.

“I got him!” Lula yelled. “I got Mr. Underpants! I got . . . YOW!”

She was on the other side of the yard, by the back door, and there were about a hundred gnomes between us.

“Help!” Lula yelled. “Holy crap!”

I kicked a bunch of gnomes out of the way and crossed the yard. I saw Lula but no Johnny.

“Did he get away?” I asked.

Lula was dancing around. “It was a zombie. I touched a zombie. I got zombie cooties. It was awful. He smelled like doodie and carnations. I can’t get it out of my nose. I gotta cut off my nose. Get me a knife.”

“Are you sure it was a zombie?”

“I got cooties. I got cooties. They’re on my clothes. He grabbed me, and he touched my clothes.”

Lula ripped her black spandex tank top off and peeled her black spandex tights off. She was left wearing a black thong.

“Good God,” I said. “If you take any more off you’re not getting in Morelli’s car.”

“It’s the cooties. I can feel them on me. They’re zombie cooties. They’re the worst kind.”

“Are you sure they aren’t Johnny Chucci cooties?”

“He had bad breath, too. His breath smelled like dirt and worms.”

“He breathed on you?”

“It was awful.”

The back-porch light flashed on, and Judy stepped out. “What’s happening? Did you catch Johnny?”

“You got any bleach?” Lula asked. “I gotta pour bleach on myself.”

Judy looked at the backyard. “My gnomes! What happened to my gnomes? Where’s Mr. Sunshine Sparkle?”

“We just got here,” I said. “It looks like someone tried to run through your yard.”

“Yeah,” Lula said. “It might have been a pack of wild dogs. Or maybe the zombies.”

Judy blinked. “Zombies?”

“They’re all over town,” Lula said. “Trenton’s lousy with them. They were probably here looking for gnome brains.”

“That’s horrible,” Judy said.