The zombie turned on me. "What? No way."
"It doesn't matter. I'm sure I can persuade this guy—"
"He's gone," Chuck said.
"Gone where?"
"If I knew, do you think I'd bother with you?"
When I asked what had happened, the cousins each gave their own rambling account, drowning out and often contradicting each other. After wading through the bullshit that blamed everyone but themselves, I figured out two things: One, some people never learn; two, I wasn't getting Chuck's cousin un-zombified any time soon.
After their pestering led the necromancer to return the cousin's soul to his body, Chuck decided the best way to fix it was to pester the guy some more. The necro had opted for an impromptu vacation to parts unknown.
"Okay," I said. "I have a lot of contacts, so tell me everything you know about him and, hopefully, in a few days—"
"A few days!" the cousins said in unison, then launched into rants that could be summed up as: "You're useless and stupid, and if you don't get him out of that body, you'll regret it." After a few minutes of this I began to think that, while I never thought I'd condone zombification, I could see the other necromancer's point.
If I could have stuffed Cousin Zombie back into his casket, I would have, but getting him there meant risking a noxious scratch or bite. So I agreed to attempt a soul-freeing ritual. And I kept attempting it for an hour before I gave up. That's when Savannah mentioned she knew a spell that might work.
"Why the hell didn't you say so?" the zombie said.
"A spell for freeing souls?" I said. "I've never heard of that."
"Because it's not meant for zombies. I'm thinking outside the box."
"Thinking?" the zombie said. "Must be a new experience for you."
"Do you want back inside the box? Nailed shut?"