Chapter XXIX
"You've earned some motor oil and Tabasco sauce."
"Yeah … not bad for a brainwashed zombie."
That was Frankenstein thinking.
"Right, could you be more specific on the 'whatever-it-is' part?"
"All right. Maybe just …"
"Holy mother!"
Now you show up? After fifteen years? Great parenting, Fur Face. Where do you get off sticking your ugly nose into my dreams?"
"Is that me?" Leo asked. "Like—me right now, having this dream—looking at me having a dream?"
"You keep track of all your kids? You got like twelve back at camp.How'd you even—never mind. I don't want to know."
"Oh, how could I take offense? Please, go on ignoring me."
"The giants, you mean. Monsters re-forming instantly. The dead rising again. Little stuff like that?"
"Breed? You make them sound like racehorses."
"Why me?"