Chapter 63

I mulled it over. “Nope,” I replied. “That should just about do it.”

“And how long do you think we have?” she asked. “Before said salt runs out?”

I shrugged. Kind of. Still, the point came across. “Couple of days, maybe three at most.”

“Plenty of time.”

My shrug remained. “In theory.”

Her sour puss turned rancid. “You always this positive?”

“Sure, except when I’m stuck in a DJ Booth in the disco from hell,” I quipped. “Otherwise, I’m all moonbeams and lollipops.”

She stared out the window of the booth, zombies moving this way and that, Blondella nowhere in sight. “Yeah, I see you’re point.” She again glanced my way. “Two days then. That’s what we’ll shoot for. Two days to trick her, get her alone, and . . .” She made a slashing move across her pinkish gray throat. “Think we can do that?”

Since my shrug was now stuck in the up position, I replied. “Sure as hell gonna try.”