Dylan Dog: Dead of Night Page #3

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It won't kill them, but

it gave us an opening.

Not that. The part where

you used me as live bait!

Look, you're alive.

Oh, my God!

Dylan!

Dylan, come on!

Come on, do something! Dylan!

Dylan!

Kill it! Do something!

Hang on.

Bull's eye.

What the hell is going on?

Look around you. Look at them.

You think they're all

like you, but they're not.

Someone on this street is

an impostor. A living dead.

The monsters you read about as a kid,

they're real, and they're here.

Werewolves, vampires,

they're everywhere.

Hiding, surviving.

And the key to their survival is making

sure none of us know they're here.

That's why New Orleans

became their Mecca.

Where else could you hide if

you were a creature of the night?

How do you know all this?

There was a pact among all the undead,

to appoint a single human

as impartial inspector.

An investigator.

Someone they could trust to

protect them from themselves,

when one of their own crossed the line.

There was a time when they

trusted me. I kept their secret.

What happened?

I paid a price.

The bite on Mara looked similar

to the one that killed Marcus.

I just had to be sure.

What are we doing here?

I gotta check something out.

Stay here.

Okay. So, I'll just scream if

a killer vampire comes along.

Yeah, yeah, he's fresh. I told

you, three hours in the bag.

Yeah. I don't know.

Phil, how big is he?

He's about 5'9", 170.

Yeah, he's a medium.

I'm sorry, but you needing more larges,

you know, not exactly my problem.

Hey, hey, hey, public

ain't allowed back here.

Sh*t. it's Dylan.

Phil, Cecil.

Dylan. It's really good to see you, bud.

I thought you was retired.

I'm just here to check out a body.

Came in this morning?

Marcus Deckler?

Yeah, not so much.

Okay, yeah, the kid.

You know, I gotta compliment

you, because you, my friend,

have an excellent eye,

because this kid, he really

took good care of himself.

He's soft, like a lady.

I like that.

Was he a vegetarian or something?

Here he is.

The bite's the same.

Hey.

Where's his left arm?

Told you, dude! I knew

this one was coming back.

Yeah, yeah. Thank you.

What's he talking

about? Why am I freezing?

Where the hell am I? What's going on?

Do you want the good news

or the bad news first?

The good. The bad.

Okay. The bad news is that you're dead.

Look at him!

You're funny. That's funny.

So, what's the good news then?

The good news is that the

condition is manageable.

Wait a minute.

Wait a second.

I'm dreaming.

I'm dreaming. I'm asleep right now.

And you look great! Look at you!

Marcus.

I can like feel you, too.

That's bizarre.

Marcus. No, Marcus. Marcus, stop it.

You look svelte, you look

good, you look clean-out.

Man. I wish you were like this.

Marcus, you're not dreaming.

I think I am.

I think I am.

Oh, no! Oh, no!

What is this? What

is that? What is that?

Mostly your large intestine.

Dylan, we're talking some serious

malpractice sh*t here, man!

I mean, what are we gonna do about this?

This is gonna get infected!

Well, you don't have to

worry about that anymore.

You're the living dead, Marcus.

The good thing about being the

living dead? No more jogging.

What's up?

How did this happen?

Well, by the looks of it,

you got bitten by a zombie.

Only takes one bad apple

to spoil the whole bunch.

Hey, you know what? Those flesh

eaters, they're not like us.

I mean, they're shredded, they're

ripped, with an attitude to match.

Think Mike Tyson after

you made fun of his lisp,

and that tribal tattoo on his face.

That's the only way we

fit in with them breathers.

We don't eat them, they

don't sever our brain stems.

It's worked out pretty well so far.

Hey, you okay there, pally?

What happened to my arm?

What happened to my...

Marcus!

Marcus was in bad shape,

and I needed to understand

why the undead were on a killing spree.

Luckily, there was Big Al's

Body Shop, where...

Well, you'll see for yourself.

Body shop? What are we doing here?

Seeing an old informant of mine.

Where do you think you're going?

We're closed.

Back off. Or you're gonna need

some serious body work yourself.

Thank you.

Whatever you do, don't scream.

Okay.

What the hell is going on here?

This is a body shop.

Zombies come from all over the

Southeast to get replacement parts.

They rot fast.

These people are zombies?

Think of it as recycling.

No, you don't pick

them out of the bayou.

They're as fresh as your mother's...

I gotta call you back.

Holy rotting sh*t.

Dylan.

Big Al. How's the parts business?

Listen, man, I don't know

how to say this exactly,

but the word on the street is that

you went, well, postal a ways back.

So, do I gotta be worried?

Relax, Al.

I'm just here to drop

someone off for work.

Tell your hunchback he's

in the trunk of my car.

Who's your friend, Dylan? She's

got some nice parts on her.

She's a client.

So, I had a little run-in

with the Truebloods tonight.

Oh, yeah? Really?

Not a happy reunion?

Who's running the show these days?

Vargas. He runs the Corpus House now.

The creep who peddles

vampire blood to civilians?

Yeah, well,

I guess the peddling business

is starting to pay off.

He's got himself a corner office now.

I mean, especially since

Trueblood upper management

was sent to greener pastures.

If I had to guess, I'd say he's

the one been spreading the word

about you being this venator,

that everyone's been

talking about, capisce?

- There's a venator around?

- Yeah.

What's a venator?

It's Latin, short for monstro venatorum.

Monster hunters.

Religious nut jobs, mostly.

Running around with silver bullets

and wooden stakes and holy water.

Jeez.

We thought them days

was done, but lately...

Lately what?

Few of the dead missing here and there.

Some whispers. Nothing for sure.

Man, you have been out of the loop.

And you wouldn't happen to be profiting

from any of this now, would you, Al?

I'm offended, Dylan.

You know I run a clean operation here.

This ain't no chop shop.

Right. Well, you keep

those big ears open, Al.

You near of anything that I need to know,

you be sure to give me a call.

Well, all right, then.

You take it easy, Dylan.

You hear me?

And do yourself a favour.

Stay away from Corpus House.

I got some bad news, Lorca.

Big Al's informant said he

saw one of our Truebloods

running away from where

that b*tch wolf died.

Do you have any clue of the heat

that you could bring on us?

Of what we have at stake?

We have been waiting hundreds of years.

Look at me!

Hundreds, to finally come out of hiding.

To claim our rightful place

at the top of the food chain.

To stop living off of human table scraps

like some roving pack of cockroaches.

No! No more.

The human race is obsolete, y'all.

Now, how do we do this? It's simple.

The Heart of Belial.

Which Lorca here has not only

failed to find, but he's...

He has managed to expose us...

...to Dylan.

I don't need to explain to

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