Page 37 of Coven of Corpses

“I was talking smack about you. That would make you the grandson of a witch.”

His laugh surprised him, and he lost his grip on the box, dropping it. Something inside shattered, and he hung his head, sighing through his laughter. “Dammit, Jugs.”

“Oh man, I’m sorry. Seriously. I’ll pay for whatever that is. That’s my fault.” He turned and said louder. “This was my fault.”

Cody stood upright. “Who are you talking to?”

“The hidden cameras,” Jugs said. “You know they’ve got them all over this place, watching us.”

“Yeah? They giving you instructions at night, too?”

Jugs’s expression turned serious. He leaned in over the flatbed and said in a whisper, “Don’t fucking joke about shit like that. Shit like that scares the fur off my possum, if you know what I mean.”

Cody closed one eye and shook his head. “No. Not really.”

“Come on. Shove that box to the back of the shelf, and let’s finish loading up this cart.”

After pushing the box he’d dropped to the back of the overstock shelf, Cody worked with Jugs to add more boxes to the flatbed. Once everything was loaded, Jugs grabbed the handle before Cody could.

“I’ll push. I heard you groan each time you stood up.”

“Fuck you, I did not.”

“Fuck you, you did, too. Come on, Bonker.”

Cody made a mocking face as he followed Jugs through the swinging doors and onto the sales floor. It was early evening, and the aisles were filled with shoppers. Cody hated stocking the shelves at this time of day. People would ask him where extremely specific items were located, or if he would reach something on a higher shelf. He was like their own personal sasquatch assistant.

The aisle they needed to work in was shockingly empty of shoppers. A lucky break. As they transferred boxes to the correct spaces on the shelves, Jugs asked more questions about the man they’d seen in the woods and the hex bags, wondering what he and Demmy were doing about it all.

“Not sure yet.” Cody adjusted his left work glove. “We’re just finding out about it.”

“Why didn’t they talk with you guys about it?” Jugs wondered.

“Clarabell said they wanted to give us a break since we’d lost our jobs and my grandma… “ He stopped and shrugged, unable to finish and not looking at Jugs. “They gave us a break.”

“You think you’re ready to get involved now?”

“Don’t think we have a choice,” Cody said. “You’re asking a lot of questions. It’s almost like you want to get involved.”

“Nope. Living vicariously through you, my friend.”

“You need to up your vicarious living game if that’s the case.”

“Not wrong about that.”

Cody had just grabbed another box when someone called, “Bower!” Turning, he saw Lucia Durant at the far end of the aisle. She wore her khaki sheriff’s uniform, hands on her utility belt. She’d been growing out her blond hair since Halloween, and it was gathered at the back of her head. Even from this distance, Cody could see the hard line of her mouth and the steel in her blue eyes.

“Cosmetics are in aisle twelve,” Cody said. “Personality upgrades are done in aisle twenty-two.”

Her eyebrows went up—that was number four for him that week, a new record—and it seemed to Cody that she pressed her lips even tighter. His work there was done.

“A moment, please,” Lucia said.

He turned to the side and raised the box he held. “I’m kind of busy working right now. You don’t like it when we interrupt you while you’re working.”

“I can go back and talk to your boss. Explain our complicated history and why I need to speak to you.”

Jugs took the box from his hands, and Cody glared at him.