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coffin race,” Hal continued. “Looks like we’re going to have beautiful weather for race time today. I’ve just got a few things to run over with you and we’ll get ready to go. First up, no running anyone over. If someone falls down, please go around them.”
    The crowd tittered in response and Olivia turned to squeeze Colt’s hand, nervous the way she always was before a race, even one that didn’t involve zombies chasing her across the finish line.
    “Secondly, this isn’t bumper coffins, it’s a coffin race,” Hal said. “That means there should be no contact between vehicles or racers. If we see any unnecessary roughness, you will be disqualified and banned from the beer tent for the rest of the day.”
    A serious murmur met those words, confirming Olivia’s suspicion that a lot of the racers had already been partaking and intended to continue hitting the microbrewery vendors after the race was through.
    “Lastly, remember to have fun. That’s what we’re here for and the whole point of our festival. As the Frozen Dead Dude reminds us every year, life is short so play hard, play often, and always drink good beer.” Hal paused for a round of applause to die down before adding, “We’ll get started in about five minutes. Racers, get your coffins loaded!”
    Olivia turned back to Colt and Daisy, bouncing on her toes. “Okay, we ready for this?”
    “I was born ready.” Daisy wrapped her fingers around the handlebar on her side of the coffin. “We’ll hold the coffin steady while you climb in Colt.”
    Colt reached in, tucking the water bottles rolling around in the bottom of the coffin off to one side before climbing in, wincing as the coffin creaked beneath his weight. “Are we sure I’m not going to break this?”
    “Dylan has at least fifty pounds on you and he didn’t break the coffin last year,” Daisy said. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
    Olivia chuckled before leaning in, pressing an impulsive kiss to his cheek.
    He turned to her with a grin. “What’s that for?”
    “Just because,” she said, helping Daisy push the coffin closer to the starting line. “You look cute all wadded up in there.”
    “Oh man, you’re making the girls push you first?” One of the frat boys laughed good-naturedly as the Grim Peeper pulled up behind his crew. “You’re going to get lapped before you make it around the first turn, man.”
    “Dude, he’s got a thing,” one of his brothers added in a whisper everyone in a ten-foot radius could hear, casting a pointed glance at Colt’s prosthetic.
    “These ladies are my secret weapon,” Colt said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at Olivia. “Especially this one. Don’t let the pigtails fool you. She’s fierce.”
    Olivia forced a smile for the other men but was grateful when they turned back around to focus on their own team. She didn’t know which bothered her more—the insinuation that she and Daisy were automatically going to be slow because they were female or the pitying looks in the frat boys’ eyes when they looked at Colt. Colt was probably ten times faster than either of them and hardly deserving of anyone’s pity.
    Empathy and appreciation for the sacrifice he’d made, yes. Pity, hell no.
    Thankfully, before Olivia could dwell on annoying college boys for too long, the mayor climbed up onto the platform set up near the bleachers and lifted the Frozen Dead Dude flag above her head. She turned, giving Hal a thumbs-up.
    “Okay, racers, when the flag drops, get ready to roll,” Hal said. “Remember, you must make three circuits of the track and each member of your team must ride around in the coffin for one complete lap. No cheating. You will be watched and cheaters disqualified and pelted with snowballs. Now get ready, on your mark, get set…”
    The flag dropped and Hal’s “Go!” was drowned out by the sound of fifty coffins launching into motion.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Olivia
    Daisy shouted a battle cry from the other side