She was dead.
Shocking, I know, but after all the time I’d spent assuming she was dead, to actually look down at her lifeless body was a bit of a shock.
Her legs were flopped over and crossed in one of those sick poses you generally only see when someone’s fallen from a great height. They’d just dumped her on the floor, which I felt was completely disrespectful. Not that I would have expected them to encase her in a gold coffin wreathed with fresh-smelling flowers or anything, but they could at least have laid her flat and covered her with a sheet or something.
I knelt down next to her and tried to straighten her legs, but rigor mortis had set in and she was stiff as a board. If Cecil was right and they’d killed her right after they’d taken her, then she’d been dead for three days. They were obviously leaving her alone assuming that in another three or four days she’d wake back up and join their undead brotherhood.
“Is that your friend?” asked Xander.