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dude's not worth it.
    The demon settled down a bit.
    “So,” I asked the driver, “what cemetery is it we're headed to again?”
    “Woodlawn,” came the flat reply.
    “Ah, yeah.” I knew Woodlawn cemetery. It was one of the larger cemeteries in town. I'd driven past the spot countless times over the years, and there was a restaurant across the street from it, a Mediterranean place, that I adored. The meats were always so succulent there, and they made their own pita on-site. Oh, and the Tzatziki sauce was just out of this--
    Shit. We were about to track down zombies and here I was pining for gyros.
    Up ahead the front gates of the cemetery, propped open just enough to allow us passage, were coming into view. We drove into the abandoned lot, passing by a guard in a battered pick-up truck. Guy didn't so much as look at us. Amundsen and Kubo had probably paid him off, or else told him that we were Feds investigating the grave-robbery epidemic.
    The driver parked the SUV and then killed the engine, exiting without a word. The others, too, spilled out of the vehicle. Some were stationed at the rear, going through the containers they'd hauled along. The big, black boxes were filled with-- you guessed it-- weapons. There was one trunk filled with what looked like grenades, and another featuring a brutal-looking flamethrower. The troopers had come prepared for a full-on war.
    Hopping out of the SUV and taking a look around the grounds, though, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Except for the chatter of the grunts, the place was quiet as, well, a cemetery. Rows and rows of tombstones stretched into the distance, the monuments casting long shadows upon the ground. The moon hovered in the sky, a pale light filtering out from behind the smoky veil of clouds. I tugged at the collar of my shirt;   I'd been out of the air conditioned vehicle for just a few minutes and already the fabric was clinging to me. Joe left his jacket in the SUV and palmed his lighter.
    “So,” I asked him, looking back at the troopers, “what now?” I wasn't really clear on how this was supposed to go. Did they follow us through the graveyard and search for clues? Were they going to just hang back and wait for us to give them information to relay to the guys at HQ?
    “I dunno,” said Joe. “Maybe we should go and have a look first. There's a lot of ground to cover, so the sooner we get moving the better.” He raised his voice, calling the attention of the commandos. “We're going to start looking around the place. Will probably check out the mausoleums and such first. Feel free to canvass the area... or just wait for further orders,” he said.
    “What he said,” I added.
    With that, the two of us started wandering. Slowly we worked our way through the graves, row by row, looking for anything out of sorts. Just five minutes into our errand, though, it became clear we weren't going to find anything strange. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing stirring. I'd expected to stumble upon occult graffiti or evidence of grave-robbing, but so far, we hadn't even found an emptied grave. This was looking like a bust.
    We came upon one grave which seemed a little tampered with. The flowers left upon it had been knocked aside and the ground appeared somehow disturbed, but overall there wasn't anything compelling at the site. Pushing onward Joe and I paid the first of three large mausoleums a visit.
    “You think there's any surveillance footage?” I asked. “I wonder who's stealing the bodies and resurrecting the dead. Would be good if we could see the enemy on camera.”
    “If they had footage then we probably wouldn't be here,” replied Joe. “We'd have kicked in the guy's door by now.”
    It was in the shadow of the hulking stone building that we first made a find of real substance.
    “Hey, is that what I think it is?” I walked over to a grave near the mausoleum's flank, finding a trail of fresh dirt scattered around its edges. The