Dill looked from Sam to Julie, shaking his head with a half smile. "Nah. Don't be stupid. I've seen zombies on the telly. All the shuffling and desperate need for brains."
"Dude, we shat out our intestines this morning. You are a dead crow. We can see ghosts an' devils an; whatever she is."
"Nah." Dill was still shaking his head. "It's a joke, that's all. We're walked on to a film set. That's why we never saw the red door before."
Sam took another few mouthfuls of his drink. "Mate, the door was a euphemism. We walked away from our old life into a new one. The life of post-death experience. This is our afterlife, old son."
"Nice metaphor. I'll have to remember to use that." Julie looked at her watch. "Look, I have to go. I'm late for work as it is. This isn't the afterlife, though. Just the ordinary world seen through the eyes of a supernatural being. We've been here all along. The trouble is, zombies aren't recognised as supernatural beings, just undead. You'll be transferred to inactive status by anyone you come across if you're not very, very careful who you speak to."
"What?" Dill looked at Sam. "What does she mean?"
"She means everybody wants to kill us. It's not just the barman. Nobody likes zombies."
"Is that true?"
"Yes. Zombies are the soulless. What you're experiencing is an unusual case of the spirit hanging on to the flesh at which point you die properly and move on. People just want to assist you in that. Think of it as a kindness." Julie pulled a card from her purse. "Look, this is a solicitor who deals with the supernatural. I suggest you get in touch with her as soon as you can."
Dill looked at the card. "Gillian du Point, 22 George Street." He slid off his seat. "We'll go now."
"No!" Julie held her hand up. "Stay here for the day where Bernard can keep an eye on you. Gillian doesn't go into the office until after dark anyway."
"After dark? Why?"
"She's a vampire."