Free The Undertakers: End of the World by Ty Drago

Corpse who’d stolen Helene’s image and made it her own.
    I’d run into this sort of thing only once before. Back then, a U.S. Senator named Lindsay Micha had been kidnapped by the Corpses and somehow tied telepathically to the sister of the Queen of the Dead. This allowed the sister to assume Lindsay’s identity, taking the woman’s face and voice as her Mask. In that instance, the real Lindsay had awakened unexpectedly and—well, things hadn’t worked out too good for anyone involved.
    But why go to all this trouble? Why bother to wear Helene’s face? For that matter, why bother with a Mask at all? The deaders were way past hiding their presence on Earth, right?
    Then I looked at William and got my answer.
    The sight of his wife’s image was tearing huge ragged holes in his heart. He was an adult—an adult me —but still an adult, which meant he didn’t have the Sight. He couldn’t penetrate the Mask this monster had placed around herself, couldn’t see the rotting cadaver beneath.
    To him, she always looked like Helene.
    His Helene.
    And it was killing him by inches.
    Something that the wormbag down there certainly knew.
    “When did you lose it?” I asked him. “Your Eyes, I mean. When did you stop being able to See Corpses?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know. No one really does, not even Steve, though he has his theories. After all, for almost thirty years there weren’t any Corpses to See. But, sometime between the end of the first war and the start of the second, I went as blind as all the rest. I … grew up.”
    Far below us, the thing wearing Helene’s face grinned and called through her megaphone, “Here’s how the rest of your day will go: As we speak, a coordinated attack has been launched against the few remaining human outposts around the globe. Over the next several hours, each of them will fall, one by one, and the miserable carbon-based bipeds within will be exterminated.
    “Then, at the stroke of midnight, I will come to this place, and my minions will surge into Haven and lay waste to you all. But you … dear husband … I will save for last.
    “And, when you are dead by my hand, I will awaken your beloved wife and show her your head. Oh! Her suffering will be delicious! She’ll be, at that moment, the last human being on the planet, and her end will be slow.”
    This is a Royal , I suddenly realized. Not Lilith Cavanaugh, of course; she’d been destroyed along with the rest of them when Dave had ended the First Corpse War. Another sister, maybe? But definitely a member of the Malum royal caste. They were the only ones who talked like debutants, even while describing atrocities.
    William made no reply and Corpse Helene didn’t seem to require one. Handing off the bullhorn, she sauntered away. After a moment, the rest the Corpses followed suit, a slow-moving march of the dead, all of them headed east.
    For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
    So, we don’t have weeks or even days. We’ve got hours.
    When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I asked, “Does she do that a lot? Come by and just … taunt you?”
    He shook his head. “She first did it last winter, right after Helene was … taken. Then again a couple of times after that. But, before today, I hadn’t seen her in months.”
    “William,” I said. “We can rescue Helene.”
    “No,” he replied.
    “She’s alive!” I snapped.
    “Yes, she is.”
    “Do you know where?”
    He nodded. “More or less.”
    “Where?”
    In answer, he pointed to the white steeple to the east. Independence Hall. Where the Declaration of Independence had been signed.
    “She’s there ?” I asked.
    “That’s the deader HQ in Philadelphia. We don’t know for sure that she’s on site, but it’s a very safe bet. Corpse Helene would want her source creature close.”
    He calls her that, too.
    Well, of course, he does. After all, I do it and he’s me.
    “Then why not put together a team of Angels and go get her?”
    Another long