(JACE AND LUCIAN)
It took a couple of hours to get all the last zombie parts blown into a heap, gathered up, and burned, and by then the sun had started to sink behind the horizon, lighting up the remaining snow all pink and making the dead lawn underneath look even deader.
Dad spent the whole fucking time leaning against the hood of his ridiculous, too-expensive car that would've paid off all of our utility bills for six months, and then some — It's an investment, Jace, and why can't you enjoy life a little? — smoking and critiquing our snowblowing form.
Lucian's teeth-grinding was almost louder than the snowblower.
But we finished at last, and Dad sloped off to put his stupid car in the garage and probably hide from Mom, who might give him something else to do.
"What the fuck are they even doing here?" Lucian demanded as soon as Dad was out of earshot. "Did they call you?"
