Queen of the Dead by Ty Drago

problems.
    Two Corpses—sticky and flaky—came at me, taking their sweet time about it. And why not? I was unarmed as far as they could see. I retreated until my back met stone. Then I scrambled through my coat and came out with my pocketknife and my Ritter. With my pocketknife in my left hand, I pressed its 2 button, activating the Taser.
    The syringe was in my right.
    An image of Dead Lady Cop in the watchtower flashed through my mind. Helene had killed her—forever and always. That’s what Ritters did.
    Could I do that? I mean, it was one thing to cripple them the way Sharyn had done with her sword just now. But it was another to kill—really, permanently kill —the being inside them. Wasn’t it?
    Shouldn’t it be?
    But I’d killed Booth.
    I swallowed.
    The flaky guy came in first, reaching for me with hands like bones wrapped in parchment. As they got close, I could see the flesh on them ripple weirdly.
    Picking my moment, I dodged under his arm and pressed my Taser into his pit. For a second, I worried that the raincoat might protect him. It didn’t. His entire body jolted from the shock.
    Then the skin on his hands split, and beetles tumbled out. Dozens of them. Hundreds. A fountain of small black bugs. They poured over me, tumbling over my neck and shoulders and getting into my hair. As the Deader toppled forward, I leapt clear, yelling my head off and slapping at the insects with both hands.
    In my revulsion, however, I stupidly dropped my Ritter and my pocketknife.
    And the other Corpse fell on me.

Chapter 11
The Tide of Battle
    He brought me down, wrapping his arms around me.
    I hit the floor hard, slamming my head against the tile. Immediately, the room seemed to tilt. Then dead hands, sticky with juices I didn’t want to think about, snaked around my neck. The Corpse’s rotting visage loomed before me, his eyes gleaming and his mouth opening insanely wide, like shark’s jaws. My head was spinning, and it was all I could do to brace my forearm under his chin, trying to keep him from biting me.
    The Deader’s black tongue lolled out from between receding lips. His teeth, dripping maggots, snapped downward toward my face.
    Then he stopped.
    His expression turned bewildered—right before he exploded.
    â€œUgh!” I heard Chuck Binelli exclaim as bits of dead guy covered us both.
    For fleeting seconds, I stared up into a different face, a face wholly alien, wholly evil. It had no weight, no solid matter at all, but it did have eyes, which seemed to burn me with their gaze. There was hatred there. But there was also terror. Awful terror.
    Whatever this thing was, it knew it was dying.
    And then it was gone.
    Leaving pieces of his stolen body up my nose and in my mouth.
    Rolling over, I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees and vomited. My head pounded, and the world seemed to spin worse than ever.
    Across the room, Helene, Katie, and Burt rushed to Sharyn’s aid—though I saw each of them hesitate, just for a moment, when they caught sight of the giant.
    Fear flashed across their faces.
    â€œI hit the sweet spot!” Chuck exclaimed. “First time! Hey…you okay?”
    I nodded. Then I vomited again. I felt like I’d been hit with a hammer and then dipped in a bucket of chum.
    â€œZapped…the other one…” I sputtered. “My…Ritter.”
    â€œI’m on it,” he said. Then, sounding apprehensive, he added, “Will…these dudes are wearing raincoats!”
    Are they? I thought bitterly. I hadn’t noticed.
    Burt went for the giant, his own Ritter out and ready. But the big guy saw him coming and moved with surprising speed, swatting the boy aside as if he were a pesky mosquito. Burt crashed to the tile floor, momentarily stunned. The giant advanced on him, but Sharyn sprang between them, brandishing her sword.
    Meanwhile, Katie and Helene focused on the remaining Type Three, cornering the