Another shriek of agony wafted through the building as she waited. Now that she knew who her Murderer was, Kat wasn't surprised. He had lots of experience in wreaking havoc. She wondered if he had some infra-red or night-vision goggles he hadn't told anyone about, or was it long experience in moving through the building that let him be just another shadow among the shadows?
A familiar whiff of vanilla body oil warned her when there were no other sounds. Kat braced herself. A foot hit the chair rack, then a slowly waving hand brushed across her shoulder. Bekka chuckled. Yet another howl of death reverberated through the building and she paused before she let out the ritual cry.
The lights in the foyer of the BWU theater building came on. Blinking rapidly to make her eyes adjust, Kat looked over to the switches on the far wall and saw Shane standing with his hand on the panel. Of course, where else would he be? Bekka and Shane were almost to the point of being Siamese twins -- where one appeared, the other was close by.
"Oh, yeah," Shane said, strolling over to where Bekka stood over Kat. "I'd give that one a twelve out of ten."
Flatterer, Kat mouthed -- technically, the Dead weren't allowed to speak. She held up her hands, bending the rules far enough to make them snap. Bekka grinned, bent, caught her wrists, and hauled her to her feet. The Dead were allowed to walk, but only after they had been pulled up from their death pose.