Dane looked at me sullenly, his fat face quivering with pain and rage. I repeated the question. Dane refused to answer, spitting on the ground between us. I waited a minute then punched him in the nose. Dane gasped in surprise and dropped back on his knees, clutching his bleeding face.

“How did you know?” I asked again, keeping my voice calm. Charlie was searching around and suddenly bent to the ground. He came up with the radio and brought it over. His eyes got wide at the sight of Blake, and brought up his gun.

I shook my head at Charlie and turned my attention back to Dane. I needed answers. I handed Charlie my rifle and drew my knife. The sight of the blackened tanto blade caused Blake’s eyes to go huge. I walked over to the decoy car and dragged out the dead zombie. I pulled it over to Dane and threw it in front of him. I showed him the knife, then I plunged it again in the hole in its head. When I pulled it out, it was covered in zombie goo. I brought the knife closer to Blake and he recoiled as if it was a snake. It was poisoned, to be sure, with the most frightening substance on the planet.

“I’ll get right to the point. You tell me who you are working with and how you knew about us, and I won’t cut you with this knife. Lie to me, or try to do anything stupid, and you know what will happen to you. Understand?” A drop of muck slid off the blade and fell to the grass between us. Blake followed the drop to the ground and tried to scoot away. Charlie’s rifle poked the back of Dane’s neck and he stopped.

Just then, the radio squawked. “Dane? Are you there? Is it done? Report?”

Charlie and I looked at each other. We both recognized the voice. Pamela Richards.

“That bitch,” was all Charlie had to say. I had other things to say but not right now. I held up the radio to Dane. “Tell her it’s done.”

Dane shook his head but screamed as I stabbed forward with the knife, stopping just short of his face. “ Tell her!” I yelled in his face. Dane complied, trying to sound as normal as possible.