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."