Skeleton Crew (The Underworld Cycle)

ISBN: 0373803265

Author: Haley, Cameron

Condition: New

Product DescriptionBodies are hitting the pavement in L.A. like they always do, but this time they're getting right back up, death be damned. My mobbed-up outfit of magicians may be the strongest in the city, but even they aren't immune to the living dead.And I've yet to develop a resistance to Adan Rashan.If I don't team up with the boss's son, we won't just be at each other's throats over control of the outfit. We'll be craving hearts and brains, as well.Because as long as this nasty spirit from the Between is stopping souls from finding peace, I'm facing the biggest supernatural crisis to ever hit the City of Angels.Zombies, it's time you feared me.About the AuthorCameron Haley, the pseudonym for Greg Benage, was born in Oklahoma and went to Tulane University. He created, wrote, and edited dozens of bestselling and award-winning roleplaying titles. Mob Rules was his first published novel, followed by the novella Retribution in the Harvest Moon anthology and Skeleton Crew. He is currently living in Georgia.Excerpt. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.It was raining when Terrence Cole buried his soldiers. A late summer downpour was the rarest of miracles in Los Angeles, and I watched as the fresh mounds of earth beside the open graves slowly turned to mud.Terrence stood in the center of the small, black-clad crowd, his head bowed and his hands clasped in front of him. He didn't have an umbrella, and the rain glistened on the coffee-colored skin of his shaved head. It trickled down his forehead and along his temples, and the wetness on his cheeks almost looked like tears.The service drew to a close, the coffins were lowered into the damp earth and the mourners quickly dispersed. I wasn't sure if they were fleeing the elements or the sense of helplessness and despair that hung over the gathering. Probably both. I went to him when Terrence stood alone by the graves."Domino," he said, "I appreciate you being here." Stylish narrow sunglasses covered his eyes, but his head remained bowed and I didn't think he'd looked up as I approached."I'm sorry about your guys, Terrence. I just found out about it today."He nodded, not at me but at the graves. "These two here were my nephews.""Jesus, Terrence, if I'd known, maybe I could have-""Their moms was my favorite sister. Used to be. Now she just want to see my funeral.""You're not responsible for this."Terrence took off the glasses and lifted his head. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he had the look of a man on the run who knows he's all out of places to hide. "I brought them in. Thought it was the best way to keep them safe, thought I could protect them." He shook his head and the corner of his mouth twitched."What happened?""They didn't even have any juice. Mobley put a posse on them just to send me a message."Francis Mobley ran the largest Jamaican outfit in the city. He'd been aligned with Terrence's former boss, but now he saw the outfit Terrence had inherited as a target, an opportunity to expand his territory. Mobley was brutal, but I knew the executions hadn't just been a message. The hits would have given Mobley a lot of juice and he'd be planning to use it for something even worse.It was old-school gang warfare. With magic returning to the world in force, the stronger outfits had more juice than they knew what to do with. Back in the day it hadn't been like that. There hadn't been enough magic to go around, and the L.A. outfits fought for whatever piece of it they could get. They'd used tactics like this-one seemingly pointless act of violence feeding juice to the next-to move against their rivals. It was like a game of leapfrog played with murders.My outfit was the strongest in the city and we didn't have to resort to those tactics to take care of business. But there was still something in it for a smaller, weaker outfit, as long as the guy calling the shots didn't let anything like conscience get in the w