Chapter 2

What Now?

Zim rolled out of the bathtub, and his naked sudsy body slapped the hardwood floor. He slipped and slid as he tried to back away from the giant worm. The beast pulled the iron tub into the hole, and the floor bucked again. Zim screamed.

The door burst open, and a tall skinny man with a baseball cap on his head and a thick mustache living under his nose stepped in. The man was loaded down with all sorts of guns and grenades and knives, and there was a rifle slung over his back that could have killed an elephant.

"Help!" Zim cried. He started sliding toward the hole, where the smaller mouth-worms writhed, waiting for him.

"Stand back!" the man said. He plucked a grenade off his belt as if it was a fruit, and he dropped it down the hole. There was a short explosion, and a puff of smoke drifted up from the aperture. The worm shrieked, and Zim slapped his hands over his ears. He watched in shock as the beast retreated, and the newcomer stood over the hole, staring down, fingering another grenade.

"Did you kill it?" Zim asked.

"Nah, can't kill it. The government has decided it's an endangered species. I used a concussion grenade. They don't hurt El Blanco, but they sure do scare him away. I'm Burt Gummer."

Zim stood and offered his wet soapy hand. "Zim."

Burt glanced at Zim's naked body and turned away. "I'll take your word for it."

"So, you have a name for that thing?"

"Yep. I guess he's our pet and attraction. He may be a dangerous bastard, but he's our dangerous bastard. Without him Twitchell would kick us out of our homes."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a real estate guy wants to put a bunch of condos here in Salvation Valley, and he managed to buy the property using several shady loopholes. We were about to be moved out of here, but some conservationists came in and saved this land as the habitat of an endangered species. So long as El Blanco lives, we get to stay here."

"That's fucked up," Zim said.

"That's life."

Zim looked down at himself and picked up a towel. "I'm going to go now."

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

Burt left, and Zim got dressed in his new clothes. He would never wear these in his own time, as there was far too much denim and leather involved. But it was all they had out here. As he laced himself up he started humming under his breath. It was the same tune he'd been knocking out on the tub. It took him a moment to realize that it was a Cranberries song. "'Salvation?'" he muttered. "I don't even like that song. What the fuck?"

The rumble started again, and Zim got dressed quicker. By the time he was back in the front of the store the rumbling was even louder. Burt stood near the counter, and he held a finger to his lips.

"What?" Zim asked.

"He's attracted by sound," Burt whispered. "Be quiet."

Zim stopped, and the rumbling shortly passed. He decided that it was safe to talk again. "You guys are fucked. You should move out of this horrible place."

"This horrible place is our home," Burt said. "I have a fortified compound in this horrible place that I wouldn't be able to have if I lived in some 'safe' suburban place, which is where they want us to move."

"Dude, I travel through time in a phone booth and fight monsters and stuff, and I think you're crazy."

Burt stared at him. "Well, I don't know what to say to that."

"Nothing. You say nothing to that. I gotta go. Thanks for saving my life."

It felt strange for Zim to say thank you. Maybe he was growing as an individual. He burst out the front door and practically skipped to the phone booth, whistling "Salvation" as he went. He was so consumed by this that he didn't hear the rumble of El Blanco's return, not even as he slipped into the phone booth.

He picked up the book and started flipping through it. "Let's see . . . where do I need to go?"

He thought he would try looking up Mad Dog DD by name instead of category, but that didn't seem to do the trick. Only then did he hear the thunder from down under. He looked up over the book and saw a trail of earth being thrown up as El Blanco approached the phone booth. It looked like how Bugs Bunny traveled, but this was waaaaaay scarier.

"Oh shit," he muttered. He flipped through the pages quicker, but the words and numbers were just a blur. "Ohshitohshitohshitohshit!"

"Get out of the phone booth, kid!" Burt shouted. He stood on the porch of Chang's.

"Fuck this," Zim said. He dropped the book and picked up the phone. He stabbed his fingers at random numbers and hit the star and pound key at the same time. The booth charged up, and electricity crackled as the worm came closer. Zim gripped the glass walls before remembering that they were covered in puke. Still he held tight, hoping beyond hope that he'd be able to escape.

The phone booth descended into the ground, and El Blanco brushed the tip of the antenna as the worm passed above him. Once again Zim got the impression that the antenna had been damaged, but he had no time to think about this as he spun between space and time once again at breakneck pace. He retched, but nothing came up. There was nothing left in his stomach aside from the 5-Hour Energy he'd had a few hours before, and there was no way his body was going to relinquish that.

This time he managed to remain standing as the phone booth zipped through the time tubes and even when he fell through the sky to land in the middle of a field, he kept to his feet. The jolt from the impact made his heels hurt, but that was it.

As soon as the bolts of energy dissipated Zim jumped out of the booth to examine the damage. Now he saw that the antenna was completely on its side. It was still attached but bent beyond all recognition.

"Fuck. This is just goddam great."

There was a commotion behind him, and Zim turned to see a crowd of people leading a hunched over man up a hill. The man carried what looked like a crossbeam, and every time he faltered some guy in a toga and a centurion helmet gave him encouragement to continue by whipping him.

This can't be good, Zim thought. Maybe I should leave.

He looked up further on the hill to see two guys nailed to crosses. A third post stood between them, and he suddenly got the idea as to what it was for. "What does 'inri' mean?" he muttered.

Another guy in a toga, this one with a hammer and a handful of nails, noticed Zim and pointed at him. He shouted something in another language, and Zim's bladder suddenly seemed fuller. The other men, all of whom looked like very athletic military men, even if they were dressed in togas, charged Zim with their spears aimed at Zim's heart.