Ilya called to him from the truck. “Problem, boss?”
“No,” he said with a glance over his shoulder. He braced his free hand on the ex’s forehead and slid his digits free. Another tooth dropped. The dead woman pawed at his arm for a moment, like a kid dealing with a schoolyard bully, while he flicked the gummy saliva from his fingers. Then the heel of his palm chopped through the thing’s spine, severing its head. The body collapsed and the head tumbled away.
The small ex—-the child—-was on its feet. It staggered at him on stumpy legs, gnashing milk teeth in its small mouth. He couldn’t tell if it had been a little boy or a little girl. It stumbled past the headless corpse of its former mother, and its stubby fingers reached up for a hungry hug.
St. George sighed, drew his leg back, and drove his toes into the ex’s chest. Thin bones cracked under his boot as the red leash snapped and the dead child was launched into the air. It soared up past the rooftops and crashed down a dozen blocks away in a splash of bone and meat.
He looked back at the truck and scraped the tip of his boot across the pavement. Ilya stood on the lift gate, looking back at him. “I hate the little ones,” the hero said.
One of the restaurant’s big picture windows had been shattered. A body was draped over the sill. Its legs had been chewed down to gristly bones. Lee gave it two hard kicks to make sure it was dead.
The inside was messy, but not destroyed. A few chairs had been tipped, some glassware broken. Lee stomped his foot a few times and crouched to make sure nothing was hidden beneath the tables. Jarvis kept his rifle trained on the archway to the kitchen.
“Looks clear.”
Andy slung his rifle over his shoulder and dragged the window-corpse into the restaurant. One leg fell apart as it bumped over the sill, dropping a few bones outside on the sidewalk. Jarvis blinked at him. “Whatcha doing?”
“Just showing a little respect for the dead,” said Andy. “Figure it can’t hurt.” He laid the body out flat, dusted off his gloves, and crossed himself with his thin fingers.
“When you’re done, grab all those salt and pepper shakers,” said Lee. “And check the wait station.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Andy straightened up and grabbed the spices from the closest table.
Lee and Jarvis swung around the main counter, both rifles aimed low. Another body was sprawled in the narrow space, its face and torso eaten away. The floor was dark with old blood and old footprints. Jarvis kicked it in the foot. “Dead.”
Something gleamed deep in the space beneath the cash register. Lee batted a few boxes aside under the counter to reveal a polished wooden stock. “Holy shit!”
“What’s up?”
“Somebody wasn’t getting robbed again, that’s what I’m getting.” Lee pulled the sawed-off shotgun out and set it across the counter. He dug around and produced two boxes of shells.
“Wow,” said Andy. “Never struck me as that kind of neighborhood.”
“Apparently no one told them,” chuckled Jarvis.
Lee glanced into the kitchen. The back room was an open space, split only by a rolling chrome table with a wire shelf on it. He saw a back door and a large freezer. “You want the kitchen, I’ll play lookout?”
“You giving me the option?”
“Nope. Just being polite.”
Lee pressed his back against the arch so he could see both rooms. Jarvis slipped past, keeping low. He reached out to tap the muzzle of his rifle on a shelf and the wire chimed and rattled. His finger tapped on the trigger guard five times before he moved to the back door. It was solid, with a heavy deadbolt locked into the frame.
“We’re good,” Jarvis said. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and checked the dusty shelves.
Lee turned his head back and saw that Andy had finished with the tables and was rooting through the small cubby of the wait station. A box of sugar packets dropped into his bag, along with more shakers.
In the kitchen, Jarvis tapped a large plastic bin with his foot. “This whole thing’s flour. Still good, sealed up tight. Got an industrial-sized can of baking powder and some big spice jars, too. Haven’t checked that first aid kit or the fire extinguisher yet.” He pointed at the steel cases mounted on the wall. “We’ve even got a cart.”
“Nice. Call it in and let’s get it out to the truck.”
Half a block behind Cerberus, Big Red rumbled to life and began inching up the street toward her. She brought all her sensors up to full and scanned the area. Looking north, east, and west, there were seven exes in range of her optics. The nearest one was three blocks away to the north, at Vermont and Franklin.