Chapter 15

chapter fifteen We park Big Mama, then ready ourselves for what's to come. I wave the Slicer and my zombies amble out of the trailer. "I might need you guys to make an impression on this Ry.k dude." "And," Quint adds, "we may need the protection...." He nods down the street. Two monsters are having a loud argument.

It ends quickly.... Chomp, slurp. We shuffle across the parking lot toward Chaz and Slammers. I try to keep my head down—don't want to draw attention to ourselves—but it's not easy. It's such an overload of monster activity that I have to look. I see one monster munching on a string of Christmas lights like it's a candy necklace. Another is spitting a stream of blue

liquid from its nose, writing its name on the wall. "Fascinating," Quint remarks. "Gloriously fascinating." "The story of a lifetime," June says. All the activity leads to the main hub: Chaz and Slammers. Monsters stream in and out of the brightly lit four-story mega arcade. "OK, guys," I say. "Put your gamer faces on." Two hulking monsters guard the entrance. They're like hired goons from an old gangster movie, but with bigger horns.

That's FAR ENOUGH. SKINBAG. THOSE THREE DISGUSTING THINGS ARE WELCOME IN HERE. Hey, these guys aren't disgusting. They're just my buds Goon #1 growls. "Talkin' about them." He points an ax at my Zombie Squad. "You'll have to check 'em. We'll put 'em in the box," Goon #2 says. "Read the sign!" This so-called sign is nothing but a bent bent street sign with a strange parrot creature perched on top.

NO ZOMBIES ALLOWED PAST THIS POINT. WEAPONS ARE TOTALLY COOL, THOUGH. THE MORE WEAPONS THE MERRIER. "Um, OK," I say. I direct my zombies over to an empty batting cage. Alfred looks at me with the saddest eyes anyone ever saw on a zombie. "Sorry, guys," I say. "I don't make the rules. And those dudes are scary." "You'll get 'em back when you leave," Goon #2 says. "If you leave," Goon #1 adds, laughing.

"Do I get, like, a claim ticket thingy?" I ask. "For my zombies?" Both Goons just grunt. Guess that's a no. Behind them, the doors to Chaz and Slammers slide open. I glance at June, Quint, and Dirk. We seem to all gulp at once. Here we go.... Stepping inside is total sensory overload. After living for so long with minimal electricity, this is like Times Square. Lights flash. Electronic pings and dings explode around us like a Video Game Symphony Orchestra: John Williams Plays the Classics! "So much electricity!" Quint whispers, impressed. "How do they do it?" I ask. Dirk nudges me and nods up. A few misshapen cages dangle from the ceiling—and inside, monsters sleep. Their tails hum with electricity. "Little monster generators," Quint observes. "Their tails must power the entire place. Ingenious..."