Scrawl flattened himself on the floor of the hallway and covered his head with his arms. Josh aimed his flamethrower at the zombie, who was only a dozen feet away now, and pulled the trigger.
Flames erupted from the end of the torch. Josh watched, shocked, as the ball of flame hurtled toward the z, hit her in the chest, and bloomed. The zombie let out an unearthly scream and began beating uselessly at the flames as they consumed her dress. She staggered back toward the door, her hair blazing and her face engulfed in flames.
Josh could only stare at her burning figure. His eyes saw that the zombie was on fire, but his mind couldn’t understand what was happening. It’s not real, he told himself. It’s just a game. The torch isn’t supposed to really work. Was it some kind of holographic trick? No, it was too real. Had he accidentally been given a real flamethrower instead of an electronic one?
The zombie managed to get out of the hallway, which was now brutally hot and filled with black smoke and the foul stench of burning meat. A moment later Josh heard a muffled thud.
“Come on,” Scrawl said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
He and Josh ran for the doorway. When they exited onto the platform, Josh looked over the railing. Far below them the burning body of the z lay on the floor. Then, to his horror, the zombie moved. She pulled herself along with her hands, managing to get about ten feet before collapsing.
Scrawl scrambled quickly down the stairs. Josh followed. When they reached the bottom, they ran to the burning body. It was now nothing more than a charred mess, unrecognizable as anything approaching human. The flamethrower had done its job.
Josh heard a crackling sound. Then the robotic voice he’d heard earlier said, “The quarry has been eradicated. Please report back to the rendezvous site.”
The lights went up and Josh blinked as his eyes adjusted. Scrawl turned and started to walk away, but Josh grabbed his arm. “Hold up,” he said. “What just happened? That thing was real. The flamethrower is real. It’s not supposed to work.”
“It’s a game,” said Scrawl. “That’s all.”
He pulled his arm away from Josh’s grip and kept walking. Josh took one more look at the smoking body of the zombie and trotted after Scrawl.
“That is real,” he said. “You can’t tell me it isn’t.”
“You did a good job,” Scrawl said. “Well, except for taking us into a dead end. But you didn’t know the door wouldn’t open.”
“And you did?” asked Josh.
Scrawl grinned. “Got you,” he said. “The whole thing was set up to see how you’d do.”
Josh’s mouth fell open. “Then the z wasn’t—”
“Cybernetic,” Scrawl told him. “Clatter’s a robotics genius. He builds them for fun. Pretty real, huh?”
Josh sighed. “Too real,” he said. “I just about lost it when the torch shot flame.”
Scrawl laughed. “I did too the first time,” he said. “That’s another of Clatter’s tricks. He switches it on from the monitoring room.”
“But I could have torched you!” Josh objected.
“No chance,” said Scrawl. “Well, maybe a small chance, but Clatter doesn’t make it live until he’s sure you’re in position and anyone with you is out of the way.”
Josh found himself laughing with relief.
“The guy’s a little bit nuts,” said Scrawl. “But you’ve got to admit, that was intense.”
“Yeah,” Josh agreed. “It was.”
“You liked it,” said Scrawl. “I can see it in your eyes.”
Josh hesitated a moment. “Yeah,” he said again. “I did.”
They walked in silence until they got back to the starting point. Clatter and the other team members were there. When Josh drew near they all started clapping loudly. Charlie came up and high-fived him. “I knew you’d do it,” she said. Then she grinned. “Of course when I did my first run, I nailed the meatbag in about half that time.”
“That was very good work,” Clatter told Josh.
“That was a very realistic zombie,” Josh replied.
Clatter laughed. “It’s nothing,” he said, although he sounded pleased. “Just a little hobby.”
Josh looked at the others. “So you were all in on this?”
Black-Eyed Susan laughed. “Consider it your initiation,” she said.
“We were all watching from the monitor room,” Finnegan explained. “You really kept your cool.”
“Yeah,” said Freya. “When Stash did his first run, he saw the z and just about burned my hair off.”
Stash spat a shell toward Freya. “My meatbag was way scarier than his,” he said sullenly.
The others laughed, and Josh saw Stash shoot him a look. I don’t think he and I are going to be best buds, he thought.
“So, Josh, do you want to join our merry band?” Clatter asked.
Josh nodded. “But I still don’t really get what you all do. This seems like a lot of work just to play the game.”
“Ah,” said Clatter. “That’s very perceptive of you. You’re quite right. But you see, this is more than just a game.”
“I don’t understand,” Josh said.
Clatter came closer. “Before I explain further, I require your promise that whatever is said here remains here.”
“Sure,” Josh said.
Clatter cocked his head. “I’m very serious,” he said. “Don’t answer lightly. Should you break your promise, the ramifications are very … unfortunate.”
“He means if you shoot your mouth off about this, we’ll make sure your reputation in the game community is dirt,” Seamus said.
Josh hesitated. They were taking everything really seriously for it being a game. He wondered if he’d gotten himself in over his head. But it didn’t seem like he could back out now. “It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t talk.”
“Excellent,” said Clatter. “Because Seamus is right. I’ve invested a great deal in this operation, and there are people who would dearly love to know how I’ve achieved what I have. It’s a business, and a very lucrative one.”
“A business,” Josh repeated. “You mean people pay to play it? To play against us?”
“Actually, they pay to watch you play it,” said Clatter. “And they make bets as to who will make the most kills in a game.”
“Gambling,” Josh said.
“I prefer to call it wagering,” said Clatter. “It’s more … civilized. We hold games, and people come to watch them. They place bets on the team as a whole or on individual players.”
“Or on the meatbags,” Stash added.
“Or on the zombies,” Clatter agreed.
Josh thought about this for a moment. “But if you make the zombies and you own the team, how do the gamblers know you haven’t rigged everything?”
“The wagerers,” said Clatter, “have generally had other dealings with me. They know me to be a man in whom they can place the utmost trust.”
“And it’s all legal?” Josh asked. “I won’t get into any trouble?”
Clatter smiled. “I admit that not every aspect of my operation is, shall we say, completely approved by the authorities. As you know, the topic of zombies is a very touchy one. I’m afraid there are some people who—if they knew about this—would call for us to be shut down due to their own ignorance and fear. But I assure you that I take very good care of my team. You have no need to worry.” He paused for a moment. “And of course you will share in the rewards of our success.”
“You mean I’ll get paid?” said Josh, surprised.
Clatter nodded. “As a junior member of the team, you’ll receive base pay of two percent of the take. In addition, you will receive a bonus for each zombie you dispatch during a game. And occasionally a wagerer will take a liking to a particular player and tip handsomely.”
“Wow,” Josh said. “Getting paid to play the game. That’s pretty cool.”
“We generally play one or two times a week,” Clatter continued. “I arrange the games so they interfere with your outside life as little as possible.”
Josh shrugged. “I guess I don’t have any reason to say no,” he said. “I’m in.”
A smile spread across Clatter’s face. “I’m very pleased to hear it,” he said. “Welcome to the team.”
The others came and one by one shook his hand. When it was Stash’s turn he gripped Josh’s fingers tightly and gave them a painful squeeze, smiled stiffly, and said, “Good to have you.” Everyone else seemed genuinely glad to have him aboard.
After Josh had been given an electronic-reader card containing a handbook to study, he and Charlie left the building together. This time they exited through a door that led to the back of a warehouse filled with boxes marked TEA.
“There are a dozen or so ways in and out,” Charlie explained as they made their way to the street. “Some of them are in the handbook, but some you’ll only find out about when somebody shows you. By the way, make sure you memorize the handbook. You’ll have to give it back next time we meet.”
“Tell me how you started playing,” Josh said.
“Bess recruited me,” Charlie answered. “We played together in a hologame group.”
“How long have you been doing it?”
“About a year,” she said.
“And the others?” asked Josh. “Have they all been playing that long?”
Charlie shook her head. “They come and go,” she told him. “People burn out or move away. The only ones still here from when I joined are Scrawl and Bess.”
“Scrawl seems like an interesting guy,” said Josh.
“He used to be a tagger,” said Charlie. “A graffiti artist. That’s how he got his nickname. Clatter caught him tagging one of his buildings and trained him to be a Torcher. He’s nice like that. I know Clatter looks kind of weird, but he’s been great to me.”
“I don’t think Stash likes me much,” Josh admitted.
Charlie laughed. “Stash doesn’t like anybody. Or at least he pretends not to. I think really he just doesn’t know how to have friends. His family is kind of messed up. His dad is in prison for murder, and his mom is a drunk. He’s the youngest of six kids. The others all left, and he’s the one looking out for his mother. So don’t take it personally. He’s just not good at trusting people.”
“It sounds like there are a lot of stories on the team,” Josh said.
“There are,” said Charlie. “Finnegan and Seamus had a little trouble with setting things on fire and ended up in juvie. Clatter managed to get them out. They live with him, and he’s teaching them all about robotics. Freya’s dad is an ambassador. She got kicked out of three or four boarding schools, so now she lives with her dad, but he’s never around, and he has no idea whether she’s home or not.”
“And Black-Eyed Susan?”
“Bess?” Charlie said. “She’s kind of a mystery. No one really knows where she lives. Personally, I think she’s a runaway.”
“So what’s your story?”
Charlie grinned. “Mine’s pretty boring. Family I like. Good grades. No sociopathic tendencies. I’m just really good at playing the game.”
“Same here,” Josh said. “I guess we’re the token normals.”
They stopped in front of a subway entrance. “This is me,” she said. “Go home and read the manual. Com me if you have any questions. Clatter will let us know when the next game is.”
“Will do,” said Josh. “Oh, and thanks for inviting me to play. This is going to be fun.”
Charlie smiled. “It will be better than anything you could ever imagine,” she said.