Everwild (Skinjacker 2)

Chapter 7 A Fistful of Forever

It was not uncommon once war was declared between the North and South for boys to lie about their age so they could serve. Nor was it uncommon for battle-ambitious girls to cut their hair and lie about their gender. Few got away with it, though.

Fourteen year-old Zinnia Kitner was one of those few.

Named after her mother's favorite flower, she had always hated her name--hated the fact that so many Southern girls of their day were named for such passive things as flowers: Violet. Rose. Magnolia. She shortened it to Zin, and allowed only her father to call her Zinnia.

She was not a girl of privilege--no Southern belle. She knew little of fancy things and delicate education. In fact, she had no schooling, and hated the prissy girls of the South's high society. She had no love of slavery, either, but she did love her father and brothers who all hated the North.

Then the South seceded from the Union, and war was declared. With her mother long dead, she knew she would be the only Kitner left at home; a Confederate War orphan left in the care of weepy neighbor women who wrung their hands raw in vain attempts to worry their men home.

Zinnia would have none of that. So she cut her hair, and practiced jutting her jaw and shifting her stance so she would look more like her brothers and less like herself. She became Zachariah Kitner. Then, through a combination of the exhaustion and nearsightedness of her recruitment and training officers, she somehow passed for male.

Little did she know she would be stuck passing for a boy for a very, very long time.

She was killed in her first battle, as so many inexperienced soldiers were. A single cannon blast. It was mercifully quick and painless. Zin's trip down the tunnel into the light should have been quick and simple; however, halfway there, she was struck by the sudden realization that her father and brothers would have no idea what had happened to her. There are few things that can cause a person to resist the gravity of the light. Thinking about one's self can't do it, because self-centered thoughts are weak when compared to the call of eternity. Thinking of others, however, can be a very powerful thing indeed, and can give a strong-willed person the strength to resist just about anything.

Zin knew what the light was. She knew she had died, and knew there was nothing she could do about that. Going straight into that light would be the easiest thing to do. But she couldn't stop thinking about her family, tormented by her mysterious absence.

And so she stopped falling forward, and found herself lingering at the threshold between the here and hereafter. Then she did something of such incredible audacity, the very universe was both insulted and impressed at the same time. Zinnia Kitner reached into the light, grabbed the tiniest bit of it in her fist, and pulled her hand back again, taking a fraction of the light with her. Then she turned and ran from the light, thus entering Everlost.

What she didn't know was that taking a bit of eternity in her hand would give her a very special power.

Like most Afterlights, the details of her life on earth became hazy, but she did remember the war. For more than a hundred and fifty years she served her part. Collecting weapons gave her a sense of purpose--and woe be to any Afterlight who tried to tell her the war was over--for then what purpose would her existence serve? In spite of her uniform, she never forgot that she was a girl, for she never had a desire to be a boy, only to be treated as one. She still cursed the fact that the hat would not come off and that her hair would not grow--and she hated that they called her "Zach the Ripper." Like the uniform, however, it served a purpose for her, so she lived with it.

That is, until the day the Chocolate Ogre came and stripped everything away.

Zinnia fell to her knees in mourning. There was nothing left, nothing at all. All those years of collecting, and now what was there for her? Kudzu nuzzled up to her, trying to comfort her, but she would not be comforted.

"You've ruined everything... ." She would have reached into the fudge-faced kid right then, and ripped him good, if she thought she'd get anything more than chocolate.

Nick chose to keep his distance. He knew any chance for an easy alliance with the Ripper was gone ... but that didn't mean there couldn't be a reluctant alliance, if he played this right. "Come on," he said to Johnnie-O, loudly enough for the Ripper to hear. "We came here for nothing. She couldn't be any use in the war."

"That's right," snapped the Ripper. "Get lost!"

Nick turned to go then did a little mental countdown. One ... two ... three ...

"What war?" asked the Ripper.

Nick grinned--it was like waiting for thunder after lightning. He turned back to her and looked her over, shaking his head. "Not the one you're fighting."

The Ripper looked away, her face betraying an odd mixture of shame and fury. There was a definite sense of craziness in her, but perhaps that could be dealt with. Perhaps it could be refined and directed.

Johnnie-O pulled Nick aside, and spoke to him quietly. "I got this really bad feeling about her," Johnnie-O whispered.

"That's just because she ripped you."

"What if she does it again?"

"I'll make sure she won't."

All the while, Zin kept watching them, trying to hear what they were whispering about.

Nick went back over to her. "After careful consideration," Nick said, "we've decided you're army material."

She looked at Nick warily. "What's my rank?"

"Private first class, in charge of tactical field operations." Nick had made it up on the spot, of course, but it sounded sufficiently impressive to make her consider it.