Zion Andrews
an excerpt

From the end:

“I am going home, Dow.”
“What! Bryan, we are not done here!” Dow hissed.
“I’m sorry Dow, but these… these are the end times. I hope you understand.” The phone went dead.
“Bry? SHIT!”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘these are the end times’. Fucker. Not if I have anything to say about it,” Dow grabbed two shot guns from the back seat, shoving one into Maggie’s hands.
“I’ve got something to tell you,” Dow said loading his shotgun. Maggie’s neck snapped over to look at him. “My name isn’t really Dow.”
Maggie snorted, “That’s it? I could’ve guessed that.”
“No, no. It’s my initials. Dwayne Omar Withers,” Dow explained.
“Dwayne?!”
“Well, that’s why I have everyone call me Dow! If they didn’t call me Dow, I swear I’d be doomed to be a computer programmer for the rest of my life,” Dow expostulated.
“But I thought you were a librarian.”
“No, I was studying library science. I never got that far,” Dow, clarified.
“Oh... Well, my real name is Maggie.” Maggie added lamely, “I don’t think I have anything I’ve forgotten to tell you.”
“Anything you wondered?”
“Are we going to die?”
“Maybe. But you know, there’s only one absolute rule in supernatural investigation…”
“ ‘Nothing is absolute’,” Maggie replied. He looked over at Dow again, “But are we looking at ‘maybe’ or are we looking at ‘probably’”
“Err… we’re leaning pretty far into ‘probably’,” Dow admitted.
Maggie nodded, “Okay… let’s go and kick some zombie ass.”