28
The Business End

BACK AT THE trailer, we get straight to it. Chloe and Dane have moved the living room furniture into their (separate) bedrooms, so all that remains of the main living area is just carpet and bare walls. On top of the kitchen counter are three stakes, each about as long as your standard slasher movie butcher knife.

Chloe has changed into black gym shorts and a tight gray T-shirt that says, Demons Do It Longer. (Gross.) Dane is in sweats and a tank top, his skin fat-free and hairless, his muscles pronounced. He is sitting Indian style on the living room floor, working out the kinks in the Tasers.

Chloe picks up one of the stakes and says, “It’s nearly impossible to cut a Zerker, Maddy. Their hides are tough.”

“Like leather?” I ask, eyeing the three identical stakes.

“Like stone,” she says. “Tougher than our skin; harder.”

I remember Dahlia’s bent nose under my knuckles and agree. “So what are these for?” I ask. Before she can stop me, I grab one of the stakes by the copper end.

When I come to, I’m lying on the kitchen floor, Dane and Chloe standing above me, shaking their heads, parent-style.

“Wow!” I say, the electric current still sizzling through my body like the best three-candy-bar sugar high imaginable. “What just happened?”

As they help me up, Dane says, “You grabbed the business end first, Maddy.”

“But aren’t they stakes?” I say, kind of enjoying the whooshing of current still flooding through my body.

“Well, technically I guess you could consider them stakes, only …in reverse. The wooden part is the handle,” says Chloe, a slightly bemused expression on her face. “You hold it like this.” The wooden part’s in her hand and the flat, circular, copper end—kind of like a notary stamp—faces out.

“Well, that’s not very dangerous-looking.”

She smirks. “Maybe it doesn’t look dangerous, but it knocked you out cold for 20 or 30 seconds. That’s enough time to do some serious damage if you get the chance. And if you can get it past the skin and shove it in far enough, for long enough, well—it will kill them.”

I look confused, reaching for the stake and—as they gasp and reach to stop me—picking it up by the wooden end at the last minute.

Dane explains, “Copper conducts electricity. To Normals, it’s no big deal. But to Zerkers, it creates havoc on the system. You stick them with one of these and, boom, out go the lights.”

“Or, at least, in theory anyway.”

I’m twirling the stake like a baton, careful to avoid the copper end, when I say, “Wait. Hold up. ‘In theory’? What does that mean?” When they don’t answer me right away, looking at each other sheepishly, I shout, “Don’t you guys know already?”

They stand awkwardly, side by side, looking down at their feet. “I mean, you have done this before, right? Right?”

“Well, technically.” Chloe hems. “I mean, we’ve already taken Zerker Slaughter 101—”

“And we’ve read the chapter on Zerker massacres in The Guide.” Dane haws. “But—”

“But what, you guys? You come off like you’re some big, famous, lethal Zerker hunters. Now I find out you’ve never actually killed any before?”

Nothing. More floor staring and feet shuffling.

“Chloe?” I ask, taking the direct approach. “How many Zerkers have you killed before?”

“None, okay?”

“Dane?”

“Well, I buried one once.”

“Hmmm.” I sigh. “Would that have been …yesterday?”

He nods, still avoiding my eyes.

“So, basically, I’ve been a zombie for, what, less than two weeks and I’ve already killed more Zerkers than you two? Unbelievable, just …unbelievable.”