Rot & Ruin

“Hey, Tom!” called Charlie, and Tom slowed and half turned to look back. “Best tell the pup to be real careful out in the Ruin. Lots of things out there will take a bite out of fresh meat like him. Everything out there wants to kill you.”

Tom stopped. He turned very slowly and looked at Charlie for several silent seconds, the smile still on his lips.

“That’s true, Charlie. Everything wants to kill you.”

Then he turned, patted Benny on the shoulder, and started walking. As Benny turned away from the tableau, he got a brief look at Charlie’s face. Did the big man’s smile flicker? Did his eyes show some emotion other than predatory confidence? Benny couldn’t be sure.

He and Tom walked in silence all the way home.

20

WHEN THEY REACHED THE GARDEN GATE, BENNY PUT HIS HAND ON THE latch but didn’t open it. He turned to his brother.

“Okay,” Benny demanded, “what was that all about?”

“It’s not about anything. Charlie and the Hammer like to turn dials on people. You can’t let them get under your skin.”

“What did you mean about the things the Lost Girl saw, about what she could tell people?”

“It’s a bad world, Benny” was all Tom would say.

“Then… what’s Gameland?”

It was clear Tom didn’t want to answer, but eventually he said, “It’s a place that shouldn’t exist. It’s an abomination.”

Benny had never heard Tom use a word like “abomination,” let alone load a word with as much contempt.

“It used to be an amusement park, a place where people would come for a day of innocent fun. It was closed down for a couple of years before First Night, but a few traders and bounty hunters found it and staked it out as theirs. Their version of it had nothing to do with family fun or innocence. Remember when I told you about how some of the bounty hunters have games where they put boys in pits with zoms?”

Benny nodded. He hadn’t believed Tom at the time and really hadn’t given it much thought since. Now the idea of boys being tossed into pits with only a stick with which to defend themselves against zoms was almost overwhelmingly horrific.

“They used to do that kind of stuff at Gameland, and other stuff that’s even worse. A lot worse. Bounty hunters, loners, and other people come from settlements all over this part of the state for these games. They bet on stuff like that. Z-Games they’re called.” He paused, and pain etched deep lines in his face. “When Nix was little and we had that really bad winter-you were six or seven-Charlie coerced Jessie Riley into going out to Gameland as a way of making enough ration dollars to feed her and Nix. Think about that, Benny. A grown woman, a mother, being forced to play ‘haunted house’-a sick game where they make her go through a building filled with zoms and only a sawed-off baseball bat or a piece of pipe to defend herself.”

“No,” Benny said. It was a straight-up denial, a statement that such a thing could not be the truth. That it could never have been the truth.

“She’d had a little kid at home, Nix. Jessie was desperate. She couldn’t let her daughter starve, and a parent will do anything to protect her child. Even if doing those things rips away a piece of her soul. I got her out of there,” Tom said, “but she was never quite the same afterward.”

“That’s impossible. I mean… how can that be legal?”

“‘Legal’?” Tom gave a bitter laugh. “There’s no law past the fence line. What’s done in the Ruin, stays in the Ruin. On the other hand… if it became commonly known what sort of things do actually happen out there, then I doubt anyone involved would be allowed in Mountainside. Or in any town. There may be no law beyond the fence, but letting criminals live next door… well, that’s another matter. But,” he said with a sigh, “so far no one’s been able to adequately prove a connection between Gameland and any of the bounty hunters who live here.”

Benny shook his head. The logic seemed twisted.

“A few years ago,” Tom continued, “someone set fire to the place and burned it down, and the owners moved the Z-Games to a new location. They keep its location secret. Gamblers and such are taken there in shrouded wagons, so that they don’t know where it is.”

“Why?”

“Because whoever burned it down might want to do it again.”

“Do you know who burned it?”

Tom didn’t answer. Instead he considered the sky. It was still blue, but a moist haze was forming. “It’s going to rain tonight. I don’t want to waste the rest of the day talking about stuff like that.”

“Like what? You’re not telling me anything. Did the Lost Girl see something? And could she really say something against Charlie?”

“Ben, you’re asking questions I don’t know the answers to. Could she have seen something or know something? Maybe. Probably. What matters is that Charlie seems to think so. That’s why he started the rumors that she was just a ghost story or that she died a long time ago. He can’t find her, and he doesn’t want anyone else looking.”

“So he had nothing to do with her picture being on the card?”

“Not a chance. Having people think she was real and having a picture of her to help identify her if she was ever found… Those are the last things Charlie would want.” Tom paused. “Charlie isn’t a good person, kiddo, and he’s not a forgiving one. Like most people of his kind, he’s motivated by fear.”

“Fear? What could Charlie be afraid of?”

Tom said, “The truth. A lot of people are afraid of that.”

Benny nodded even though he didn’t fully understand what Tom meant.

“Can I have my card back?”

Tom took the card from his shirt pocket and studied it for a moment, then handed the card to Benny. “I can’t say I’m happy to find out that Rob sold this to the printers. I asked him not to. Stirring up trouble with Charlie isn’t the smartest move.”

Benny smoothed the card against his shirt front. “Why do you think Mr. Sacchetto painted the Lost Girl card after you asked him not to?”

“People do stupid things when they need money.”

“He doesn’t look broke.”

“He’s not, but for most people there’s never enough money.”

“Is this going to cause a lot of trouble?” Benny asked.

Tom looked back the way they’d come. “I hope not, but…” He let the rest of his sentence hang.

“Mr. Sacchetto said that you saw the Lost Girl a couple of months ago, but he said I had to ask you to tell me about her.”

The trees around them were filled with birdsong, and cicadas droned incessantly in the tall grass. Tom leaned his forearms on the fence and sighed.

“We haven’t really talked much since we got back,” he said. “I know that what we saw hit you pretty hard. I know that our relationship has changed a bit. As brothers, I mean.”

After a slight pause, Benny nodded.

“So here’s the problem, kiddo,” said Tom, “and maybe you can help me sort it out. I’m not entirely sure who you are. I mean, you’re not really a kid anymore, and you’re not an adult. You’re not the annoying brat I’ve been living with for the last fourteen years.”

“Eat me,” said Benny with a grin.

“Zombies wouldn’t eat you. They have standards.” Tom pushed himself off the fence. “So, you’re going through all these changes, and I don’t know who you’ll be at the end of it.”

“How’s this all going to lead into you telling me about the Lost Girl?”

“That’s the problem. Last time I checked, you thought Charlie Pink-eye was-and I quote-‘The