บท 47: Chapter 47: Home Again, Home Again Jiggity Jig

VOLUME THREE: HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE DEATH

The trip home was a total bummer.

We’d scrambled out of the temple to find the Mortician slave camp completely devoid of both life and afterlife. It had been a fake camp, put there for our benefit, and all those dead kids toiling away had been in on the con.

We’d been played. Or more accurately, I’d been played.

We hiked out of the valley - with a stop to pick up our packs where we’d dropped them in the jungle - returned to Cassandra’s pad, said our goodbyes to the punky-if-dead fourteen year-old, bussed our way back to Buenos Aries, and hopped on the first plane to the States.