"They're real, Zack."
"And Damien is one of them now."
"Yes."
Zack went dead quiet. When he spoke again, all the humor was stripped bare.
"Six bullets, Stan."
"I know."
"Six fucking bullets. Center mass. And he got up."
Stan said nothing. He stared at the brass numbers on Sophie's door.
"And you're telling me," Zack said slowly, carefully connecting the dots in real time, "to call you if a bulletproof monster shows up at my house... because you think you can stop him."
There was no accusation in Zack's voice. Not exactly. It was a profound, creeping realization. He was looking at his best friend through a completely different lens, realizing that the man on the other end of the line might know considerably more about this terrifying new world than he had ever let on.
Stan had anticipated this. He knew that the moment he gave Zack instructions on how to handle an Awakened, the questions would start.
