Shaking her head, Jouri said, “I’ll get someone to move the sculpture. It’s going to be difficult to recover the head, though any trail would have gone cold after so long.”

Frank nodded. “Just try your best-it doesn’t matter if you actually find it. Life’s like that.”

Soon, Jouri’s people arrived, but just as they packed up the statue, several Toyota Land Cruisers came bounding toward them.

A group of wights alighted—it was the most appropriate term for them, what with their dried seaweed-like skin, droopy eyelids, and lifeless eyes.

They were basically limping too, like they were going to keel over at any moment.

Their leader was none other than the punk who had mocked Frank earlier, laughing himself silly when he leaned forward and saw that Frank and Jouri were still around.

“And here I thought you’d run scared.” He sneered. “But you’re really flattering yourself, staying here and waiting for me! I won’t hold back since you want this so much!”