I Sell The Dead Page #5

Done.

Bloody hell.

You were hungry.

You're not having any of mine.

What I don't get is

why they buried a corpse

outside of a graveyard.

Suicide most likely.

Idiot clergy probably

excommunicated them,

so there was nowhere else to bury them.

Why at a crossroads?

Gob shite superstition.

So's if the spirit rises,

it'll not know which way is which

and wander about the place lost.

Which way is which.

Which sandwich is which.

Boy, get at it, come on.

All right, you moody so and so.

Willie?

What?

Look at this.

What, we don't know her, do we?

Oh, that's odd.

Look at its eyes.

Maybe we should just leave it.

No.

Have that bastard Quint on our tails?

It's a perfectly good piece.

What's that around her neck?

That's... that's garlic.

Ronnie's got that stuff

all over the Fortune of War.

Keep things away from the place.

Garlic?

It's stinky.

Don't do that.

That's there for a reason.

Gob shite superstition, Willie.

Who would do a thing like that?

I don't know, but I'm glad they did.

This piece will put us in

good standing with Quint.

Pull it out.

No way, mate.

I dare you.

No way, I say.

You're out of your head.

Help me.

Come on, help me.

Come on.

Let's get the corpse in the cart.

Oh, look at this mess.

What we need is a new cart, Arthur.

Something roomy.

How are we even gonna

fit the corpse in there?

Willie.

Let's get the hell out of here.

Maybe she wasn't dead.

Not exactly alive neither.

Un...

Dead.

Bollocks, shite.

What do you like, Grimes?

What do you like?

Hey, do you hear that?

No, I do not.

Willie.

Arthur.

Willie.

Missus?

You all right?

I think it's gone.

Why did you have to hit me?

It was all on you.

What else was I suppose to do?

Ow.

Look.

Ah, you're bleeding.

You keep away from me.

You might be inflicted.

Oh, shut up.

What time is it, huh?

How should I know?

I think it's getting lighter.

Yeah.

I think it might be gone.

Can we go then?

Yeah, I think so.

Willie!

That was mad.

Get back, get back.

What?

Get back, Arthur.

What are you doing?

- Watch this.

- What are you doing?

Oy, you mad bastard,

come on let's go.

Leave it.

Don't do that.

Don't, you mad bastard,

don't do that, don't.

Come on, let's go, Willie.

Let's go; I wanna go.

I've got an idea.

Thank you for your

sacrifice, my child.

After that job, we were

never bothered by Quint again,

and we struck gold with the undead.

We realized that people

would pay ten times as much

for your more unusual corpse.

And the jobs kept finding us.

It was as if we opened

the door to another world

and got a sniff of it,

or it got a sniff of us.

Came across a whole many

of things after that.

So trafficking the undead

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