Armageddon averted, the world returns to business as usual. Unfortunately for Frank "Triggaltheron" Trigg, business as usual sucks.
His night out interrupted by a horde of kidnapping zombies, what could possibly be worse? The resurrection of the Anti-Christ, that's what. Caught in the middle of a supernatural pissing match between the Devil's wife, a legion of undead, and an overachieving necromancer, Frank must survive long enough to stop Hell from being unleashed upon humanity; Again.
A half hour after having been dumped into the back of a moving van, crowded with zombie funk, and carted across town, I was yanked out and unceremoniously dropped on my ass. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the starlit darkness, night having settled in, but I could smell wet grass and fresh dirt. I rolled my head to the side, eyes searching, and groaned when I realized where they’d taken me; Rest Land Cemetery.
I didn’t like where this was headed. When I spotted the open hole in the ground a few feet from where I laid, I liked it even less.