Monstrous Regiment (Discworld, #31; Industrial Revolution, #3)

by Terry Pratchett

we appear to have zombies in the lower crypts. Dreadful things. A lot of high-ranking Borogravian military men were interred down there over the centuries, apparently.” “Really? What are they doing now?” Clarence raised his eyebrows. “Lurching, sir, I think. Groaning. Zombie things. Something seems to have stirred them up.” “Us, probably,” said Vimes. He got up, strode across the room, and pulled open the big heavy door. “Reg!” he yelled. After a moment, another watchman appeared and saluted. He was gray-faced and Clarence couldn’t help noticing when the man saluted that the hand and fingers were held together with stitching. “Have you met Constable Shoe, Clarence?” said Vimes cheerfully. “One of my staff. Been dead for more than thirty years and loves every minute of it, eh, Reg?” “Right, Mister Vimes,” said Reg, grinning and revealing a lot of brown teeth. “Some fellow countrymen of yours down in the cellar, Reg,” said Vimes. “Oh, dear. Lurching, are they?” “’Fraid so, Reg.” “I shall go and have a word with them,” said Reg. He saluted again and marched out, with a hint of a lurch.