"Mary Janice Davidson - Betsy 01 - Undead And Unwed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

I was dead but too dumb to lie down. Dead and walking around inside the funeral home in a cheap suit
and fake leather shoes. The funeral must be tomorrowтАжlater today, I amended, looking at the clock.
And my jerkweed of a stepmother must have picked out this outfit for me. AndтАж

I slipped one of the shoes off, looked at the inside.Property of Antonia OтАЩNeil Taylor .

The bitch meant to bury me wearing her cast-off shoes! This seemed more of an injustice than being
driven into a tree while my cat watched.

My cat! Who was going to look after the little monster? Jessica, probably, or maybe my motherтАжyes,
probably my mother.

My mother.

It occurred to me that I should seek out my grieving friends and family and tell them I had no intentions
of being buried. Then sanity returned. I was dead. IтАЩd been zombified or whatever, and needed to finish
the job the guy in the Aztek had started. Or maybe this was purgatory, a task set for me, something I had
to finish before God opened the gate.

I had the fleeting thought that the doctors in the ER had made a mistake, but shook it off. I
remembered, too well, the sound of my skull shattering. If it hadnтАЩt killed me, IтАЩd be in an ICU now with
more tubes than a chemistry classroom. Not dolled up like aтАж

(dead)

тАжwhore wearing cheap castoffs on myтАж

(dead)

тАжfeet.

All that aside, I couldnтАЩt bear to see anyone looking the way I did.

I walked to the end of the hallway, found the stairwell, and started climbing. The funeral home was three
stories highтАФand what they needed the other two stories for I wasnot going to think aboutтАФwhich
should be high enough, since I planned to go headfirst.

At first I thought the door was locked, but with a good hard shove it obligingly opened with a shriek of
metal on metal. I stepped outside.

It was a beautiful spring nightтАФall traces of snow from the storm had melted. The air smelled wet and
warm, like fertility. I had the oddest feeling that if I were to scatter seeds on the cement rooftop, they
would take hold and grow. A night had never, ever smelled so sweetly, not even the day I moved into my
own place.

As I stepped onto the ledge, I ignored the not-inconsiderable twinge of apprehension that raced up my
spine. This wasnтАЩt my last night on earth. That had been a couple of days ago. There was nothing to feel
sad about. I had been a good girl in life, and now I was going to my reward, dammit. I wasnot going to
stumble around like a zombie, scaring the hell out of people and pretending I still had a place in the