"Whoever thought I would get to live this long anyway, kid? This old man is looking for a fight. These bastards killed my boy, even if he was a crazy son of a bitch himself. Monsters don't get to kill a Shackleford and get away with it. It sets bad precedent."

"Seventy-two," Dorcas added, her grandmotherly looks not quite matching the steel in her voice. "Try to stop me, you'll be tasting my plastic foot. I can still run a machine gun with the best of them."

"We help," said a gravelly voice from the doorway. I had not heard Skippy approach. "Ten warriors… Five who heal… Ride to battle… Slay many foes."

"Skippy, you don't have to. Your people are so few in number as it is," Harbinger said.

"Harb Anger deny us… honor… of battle?" Skippy asked. His voice sounded extra distorted through his flight helmet's face shield.

"No. Of course not." The Director bowed his head. "My clan thanks you for your brave warriors."

"Eighty-seven total staff then," Julie said. "Against probably double that number of powerful undead and who knows what, spread from one corner of the South to the other."

Eighty-eight, said the voice of the Old Man in my head. I wished he would stop doing that. It freaked me out. I may have a weird job, but that doesn't mean that I liked hearing voices in my head.

"Who's going to Natchy Bottom?" Sam asked.

"Feds are going to be the ones doing all of the fighting, and we can let them be the muscle. So we'll just take the Hind. Skippy flies of course, and one can ride co-pilot. Then we can fit eight plus gear."

"I'm going," Julie said.

"No. You're injured, and I need you here to coordinate the arriving teams."

"Bullshit," she snapped. "This is personal."

"I know, and that's why you ain't going," Harbinger stated.

"Wrong. I'm on that helicopter or you can have my resignation right now, and I'll drive up there myself." Julie stood up from the table. "Don't push me, Earl. She's going to be there, and she isn't going to rest until she gets me too."

Harbinger slowly nodded, his cigarette dangling from his lips. "Fine," he said. "Julie, Sam, Milo, so my whole team. Pitt, he knows the bad guys better than anybody. That leaves four volunteers. Keep in mind, this is probably going to be real dangerous. Most likely all seven of the Masters plus whatever powers that the Cursed One himself has."

"I'm going," Trip said, surprising no one.

"You feel up to it?"

"What, this?" He pointed at his battered face. "Just a scratch."

"I'm in," Holly stated. "Any excuse to kill something."

"Me too," Albert Lee offered.