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burst out of one of the rooms and tackled him in a flash of metal and bleached-blond hair.
    “Lazlo!” she shouted.
    “Go!” He’d knocked the gun down the hallway, but Norwood was now reaching to get a grip on his skin, trying to Damn him. “Get the others and go!”
    This was the second time Lazlo had saved her ass and the collective asses of her friends, and as much as she wanted to stick around and pelt him with thank-yous, she did as he asked. At the top of the stairs, she nearly cracked skulls with Ferbus, Elysia, Pip, and Bang, all waiting for her with bags in hand, ready to flee.
    “Lex!” Elysia exclaimed, going in for the Hug.
    “No time,” said Ferbus, dragging them both down the hall in the opposite direction. “Mort waiting for us?”
    “Yeah,” Lex answered breathlessly.
    “What happened back in Croak?” asked Pip. “What’s going on? Is everyone okay?”
    “Everyone’s . . . fine.” Lex glanced at Ferbus’s anxious face, then looked away. He’d kill her soon; no need to bring up the Driggs fiasco prematurely. “How did you know I was here?”
    Elysia gave her a grin as they ran. “Lazlo and Wicket have been sort of like our bodyguards, staying here with us for the past few days. When Mort left last night to try to break you and Driggs out, he said he’d be back soon, hopefully with you two in tow. Actually, I believe his exact words were, ‘Pack your bags and be ready to go as soon as you hear gunshots.’ ”
    Lex set her jaw. “The cool detachment with which my uncle treats my life continues to astound me.”
    Bang let out a laugh—though it was silent, as always. “It worked, didn’t it?” she signed.
    They kept running to the other end of the hallway, where an exit door led to another set of stairs. “Into the car,” Lex told them as they pounded down the steps. “The big scary black one.” She spotted a barely visible Grotton sitting on the roof—presumably because Uncle Mort had banished him up there so as not to upset the Juniors right off the bat. And it worked; they didn’t even notice him as they piled in through the back doors.
    “Hurry up!” Dora yelled. She threw the car into gear and gunned it out of there, nearly taking out the demonic tree sign as they drove away. The Juniors sat facing one another in the Clearly-There-Should-Be-A-Coffin-Here Area, backs against the side windows of the car and legs all jumbled together in the middle.
    All eyes flew to the back window to watch Lazlo emerge from the building and run to a car hidden in a patch of trees. “He made it!” Elysia said, straining to see. “And Wicket’s driving—they both made it!”
    The two cars sped off—the Stiff in front, Wicket and Lazlo following—leaving a flustered Norwood in their wake. He let out a feral, defeated yell, then drew his scythe through the air and Crashed off to destinations unknown.
    Elysia took a quick head count once she’d recovered her bearings. “Oh, thank God, you’re all okay! Dora, Mort, Driggs—”
    “
Ha!”
Driggs shouted, finally yanking his arm out of the seat by turning himself transparent at the worst possible moment. “Take
that
, evil . . . car  . . . seat . . .”
    Everyone was staring at him. Lex’s stomach roiled so forcefully she thought it might erupt right there in front of everyone, a volcano splattering half-digested whipped cream all over the windows.
    Elysia, Pip, and Bang all looked as if they were seeing a ghost, which, to be fair, they were. And Ferbus—
    Ferbus was swallowing over and over, as if he were trying to work a chicken bone down his throat. Lex could see his hands shaking, his lips twitching as he stared at the transcendent being that used to be his very-much-alive best friend. “What happened?”
    Driggs seemed as if he didn’t know whether to burst into tears because of the way they were all looking at him, or console them because they needed the comfort more than he did. He chose the latter. “I’m