Nick had not planned to reveal Zin right away. He knew the Atlanta Afterlights needed to be prepared. But Zin--to whom common sense was a limp afterthought-- made herself known even before the train rolled to a stop. She took one look at the Atlanta kids, then poked her head out of a window, and shouted at them, "If you throw them bricks at me, I swear I'll rip out parts a' ya y'didn't even know ya had! See if I don't!" And then to prove it, she reached over to Johnnie-O and ripped his memory of a spleen, holding it out the window.
"Don't you drop that, ya stupid inbred freak!" yelled Johnnie-O.
Since Johnnie-O had no idea what a spleen looked like, his memory of it more closely resembled a Polish sausage than anything else. Even so, it inspired terror in the crowd. They all dropped their weapons, scattering in abject fear, and yelling, "It's Zach the Ripper! It's Zach the Ripper!"
Johnnie-O pulled her away from the window, retrieving his Polish spleen, but it was too late to stop panic from spreading through the mob.
"Great," Nick groaned. "Why don't you rip out your own brain and give yourself one that works?"
Zin was unfazed. "Yer just mad cuz your chocolate don't scare 'em as much as I do!"
"You had better start listening to me!" Nick put his finger in her face, and, of course, she bit it.
"Sorry, sir," she said, all nasty grin, "but I thought yer hand was one a' them chocolate Easter bunnies."
Johnnie-O let out a guffaw, and Nick glared at him. "Sorry," Johnnie-O said. "It does kinda look like that sometimes."
Nick decided to use a different tack. "Soldier! Your behavior is disgraceful for a sergeant of the Chocolate Brigade."
"Sergeant?" said Zin. "I thought you said I was a private."
"Not anymore." He reached over and painted a chocolate chevron on her sleeve. "You're a sergeant now, and I expect you to act like one."
Zin was overjoyed. "Yes, sir!"
"And if you follow orders and do your job to the best of your ability, you might even make lieutenant."
"Yes, sir! What are my orders, sir?"
Nick had suspected she might be more motivated by responsibility than by threats. "Your orders are not to do anything unless I tell you to," he said.
"Good luck," grunted Johnnie-O. Then he asked what rank he got to be. Nick told him he was special ops, which suited Johnnie-O just fine. Five minutes later, Isaiah, the kid who ran Atlanta, showed up, just as Nick knew he would. He barged right onto the train.
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded. His sudden appearance and threatening tone of voice set Kudzu barking, and hiding behind Zin. Nick thought about sending Zin away, but decided it was best if she stayed in his sight. Instead he told Johnnie-O to check on Charlie. "He might be in need of some special ops right about now."
Johnnie-O left, but not before matching Isaiah's glare. With Johnnie-O gone, it was no longer three against one, but the tension didn't drop in the slightest.
Isaiah looked at Zin, then back to Nick again. Nick could tell he was afraid, but he hid his fear behind anger. "You take that thing and you get it out of Atlanta. Now."
"Who's he calling a thing?" growled Zin.
Nick firmly clasped Zin's shoulder with his chocolate-free hand. "Remember your orders," he said under his breath. Zin bit her lip--literally--as if the only way for her to shut her mouth was to clamp her bottom lip between her teeth.
It was then that Nick realized that Zin was a double whammy. Not only had he brought "Zach the Ripper," but he had brought a Confederate soldier into a city run by a kid who may very well have suffered the life of a slave when he was alive.
"Her name is Zinnia," Nick told him, "and she means you no harm."
"You mean to tell me that thing is a girl?"
Zinnia bristled, but kept her mouth shut. "She's a ripper and she's here to help all of us."
"I don't care what she can do--I don't need help from someone wearin' the gray."
Then Zinnia took a few steps forward. Nick tried to stop her, but she shrugged him off. So much for obeying orders.
"I don't recollect all that much 'bout my life," she said, "but I do know I didn't join the war to protect slavery. I did it to protect my family--and I'd take off this here uniform if I could, but I can't any more than you can take off those torn pants and rope belt. We's all stuck with what we wore, but not with what we were."
Isaiah still looked angry, but he didn't respond. He just waited to see if there was any more to her defense. To Nick's surprise, there was.
"The way I sees it," said Zin, "there ought not to be problems with skin color in Everlost, cuz Afterlights ain't got no skin, technically speakin', right?"
Isaiah nodded. "I'll do you one better than that," he said. "Hold out your arm."
Zinnia held her arm out, and Isaiah held out his right beside hers. "See that?" he said. "Our glow is exactly the same."
"Yeah, how 'bout that!"
"You remember that," said Isaiah, "and maybe I won't have to run you out of town."
"Fair enough," said Zin.
Now that their peace had been made, Isaiah turned to Nick. "So are you just passing through again, or is there something you want from us?"
And that's when the real work began.
Chapter 21 Let 'Er Rip
Winning over the Atlanta Afterlights was a delicate matter, as painstaking, as ... well ... the making of chocolate. Too hot and it would burn, too cool, and it would lump. With Isaiah's reluctant permission, Nick introduced Zin to all the Atlanta Afterlights. There were almost four hundred of them. Once more they filled the streets of the Atlanta underground-- this time without weapons.
As they gathered, Nick stood patiently with an impatient Zin. Johnnie-O and Charlie provided security, keeping space between them and the curious crowd.
"If things get out of hand, do I got permission to knock some heads?" Johnnie-O asked.
"Absolutely not," Nick told him.
"You're no fun," he grumbled.
When all of Atlanta was there, Isaiah came up to Nick. "Do I introduce you as Nick, Nicholas, or the Chocolate Ogre?"
Nick's instinct was to simply go by Nick, plain and simple--but if Mary was the Sky Witch, how could he hope to be taken seriously if he was just "Nick"?
"Go with the Ogre," he told Isaiah. Mary had invented the name as a smear tactic. Well, it was time he used it to his advantage.
Isaiah raised his hand to get everyone's attention, and in a few moments the murmuring crowd quieted down. "Hey y'all, everybody," he said, in an informal, yet commanding voice. "This here is the Chocolate Ogre, as I'm sure you already know. I've checked him out, and he's okay. He wants to talk to you, so listen up--and don't make him mad, or he'll turn you into chocolate chips or something."
Nick cleared his throat twice. He was nervous, and whenever he was nervous his throat clogged with chocolate.
"Afterlights of Atlanta," Nick began. "I come in friendship ... and to prove it, I would like to present to you Zinnia the Ripper!"
"Zinnia?" said some kid in the crowd. "Like the flower?"
"Shut yer trap!" said Zin.
Nick pushed on. "I know you've all heard bad things about the ripper--just like you've heard bad things about me. Well, I'm here to set you straight. The ripper's not going to rip anyone's guts out--"
"I could if I wanted to," said Zin, and Kudzu seconded it with a bark and growl.
"Right," Nick said, throwing her a secret scowl. "But the ripper uses her powers for good." Nick took a moment to let that sink in, then he continued. "We all know that there aren't many things that cross into Everlost--and when things do cross, they get picked up by finders, who charge an arm and a leg for everything. Well, forget about finders-- because if there's something you want, the ripper can get it for you!"
Nick knew he was sounding like an infomercial, but at least he had their undivided attention. He glanced to Isaiah, whose arms were folded, not yet impressed by the show.
"I need a volunteer!" Nick said.
No one came forward at first, then a young girl was pushed out in front by her friends. She looked terrified. Johnnie-O escorted her the rest of the way, and she stared bug-eyed at his huge hand which was gripping her elbow.
"Don't worry," Nick said to the girl quietly, "this is a good thing." Then he spoke loudly enough for the crowd to hear. "Tell me something you're longing for. Something you truly feel you deserve, that you've never had here in Everlost."
The girl looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "A hot fudge sundae?"
Zin laughed. "Y'already got one! He's standing right in front a' ya!"
Only Charlie and Johnnie-O laughed. Everyone else was waiting for Nick to turn Zin into a pile of chocolate chips. Nick turned to Isaiah. "Where in living Atlanta could we find a hot fudge sundae?"
"I know just the place."
Isaiah led them to the World of Coca-Cola, one of Atlanta's biggest tourist attractions--a veritable cathedral of carbonated caffeination. Inside was a restaurant that featured all things Coca-Cola--such as ice-cream floats made with Coke instead of root beer, and Coke syrup sundaes.
The crowd of Afterlights followed Isaiah, Nick, and Zin right through the outer wall, and into the caf茅. The place was packed with the living--there was a field trip of students all in neon yellow shirts laying siege to the counter, and ice cream was being dished up by four soda jerks who couldn't move fast enough.
"The ripper will now ecto-rip a sundae right before your very eyes!" said Nick, sounding like a carnival barker, and enjoying it.
The crowd of Afterlights all craned their necks to see, and shifted their feet to keep from sinking. The effect was a weird bobbing of several hundred heads.
Nick zeroed in on a silver bowl that had just been filled with three scoops of strawberry ice cream. The soda-jerk was about to douse it in Coke syrup, proving that some combinations really ought to be illegal.
"Quick," he said to Zin, "rip it before it's too late."
Zin shoved her ripping-hand forward into the living world, and the crowd of Afterlights buzzed with excitement. In one smooth move, Zin grabbed the ice-cream bowl, and tugged it out of the living world into Everlost. The soda jerk never saw it happen--and when he emptied his syrup ladle, Coke syrup spilled all over the marble counter. He looked at the counter for a moment in dumb confusion, then he glanced at the other soda jerks and said, "Okay, who's the joker?"
"It just disappeared!" said a living redheaded kid sitting at the counter in front of him. "It disappeared right into thin air! A hand reached out of nowhere and took it!"
"Shut up, Ralphy," said the kid next to him, and that was that. The soda jerk sighed, and made another sundae, not caring enough about the mystery to unravel it.
Zin, with the ripped bowl of ice cream in her hands, held it out to the girl, who was already licking her lips.
"No," said Nick. "Not yet."
Then he held his hand over the ice cream, squeezed his hand into a fist, and dribbled a hefty amount of chocolate over the ice cream.
