“Go outside, Benny.”
“I… can’t.”
“Benny…
Benny backed away only as far as the doorway, but he could not make himself leave.
Tom closed his eyes, first lightly, as if asleep. And then he squeezed them shut with all of his might, as if lost in a terrible nightmare in which he was unable to scream. His lips curled back from his teeth, and his chest heaved- once, twice-and then there was a flash of silver.
Jessie Riley never returned from death. She had suffered enough and would be spared that last indignity.
Benny stood in the doorway for several minutes as Tom sat on the edge of the bed and rocked her back and forth in his arms. Tom did not weep, did not cry out. Instead he ate his pain, biting down on it hard enough to drive all of the poison deep into his soul. Benny understood that. Maybe there would be some other time when that rage could be allowed out. But not now, and not here.
Not with Nix out there somewhere.
After a long time, Tom lay Jessie down and tugged the sheets around her, so that she was completely covered. He got shakily to his feet and stood over her, head bowed, and Benny saw his brother’s lips moving. Was it a prayer or a promise?
Benny said nothing. He knew that he was an outsider to this, an intruder into Tom’s privacy… but he could not leave. He could not abandon his brother any more than Tom could abandon Nix’s mother.
When Tom turned to him, his face was calm. Or at least it appeared to be calm. Benny wasn’t sure if his brother’s air of unshakeable poise was genuine or a mask he wore when he needed to fend off the rest of the world. Before now, that calm demeanor had annoyed Benny; now it unnerved him. It seemed so alien, so unnatural.
Tom passed Benny and went out into the living room, where the town watch was making a thorough examination of the crime scene. One of them, the short Navajo named Gorman, snapped his fingers. “Got something!”
Tom and Strunk hurried over, and Benny had to crane his neck to see past them. Gorman pushed aside some broken crockery, and there on the floor was an old battered coin. On one side was an exotic flower, on the other were the words: “
He handed it to Strunk, but Tom took it from him.
“It means ‘good luck,’” said Tom.
“What language is that?” asked Gorman. “The Rileys are Irish. Is that Gaelic?”
“No,” said Tom, “it’s Vietnamese.”
Strunk frowned. “Then… this
“It was the Mekong brothers,” said Gorman.
Tom turned the coin over and over between his fingers. He didn’t nod, didn’t even grunt to show that he agreed with this assessment.
“Benny… let’s go home and pack.”
“Pack for where?” Strunk demanded. “I’ll bring the bloody Mekong brothers in.”
“Go right ahead,” said Tom, “but in the meantime my brother and I are going to go after the people who actually
“What are you talking about? We have proof right here.”
Tom didn’t bother to answer. He dropped the coin on the floor and walked toward the door.
Outside, they had to push through a crowd that was ten deep. Everyone had questions, but Tom’s face was a stone. Benny shoved and pushed to stay at his brother’s back. The medics had taken Morgie to the hospital.
When they were through they walked down the street. The sky above them had cleared, and there was a surprisingly cold wind. Benny waited until they were out of earshot.
“Tom… I’m sorry about Mrs. Riley.”
If Tom heard him, he didn’t reply.
“Are we going to find Nix?”
“We’re going to try.”
“They killed Mr. Sacchetto and Mrs. Riley to get information on the Lost Girl. Why hurt Morgie?”
“You saw him. He was dressed nice, carrying flowers. He was calling on Nix, and he showed up at the wrong time, poor kid.”
“So why take Nix?”
Tom’s bleak expression was answer enough. Nix would either be killed… or taken to Gameland.
One of the town watch guards caught up to them and reined his horse to a stop. “Tom,” he said, “the gate guards said that Charlie and the Hammer left almost three hours ago.”
“What about Nix?”
The guard answered, “It was just after all the excitement, you know? The Hammer had that big equipment bag of his- you know the long canvas one? It was slung over his back and looked heavy, but the guard didn’t even think to ask what was in it. He assumed it was filled with guns and stuff. Bounty hunter’s stuff. He figured Charlie and the Hammer had gotten a job because of what happened.”
“Yeah,” Tom said tightly. “What about the Mekong brothers?”
“They left a few minutes later. They both had their kit bags strapped over the saddle of that ugly donkey they have. The one they call Uncle Sam.”
Tom had never thought much of the Mekong brothers’ sense of humor.
“Thanks, Billy,” Tom said.
“Are… you going out after them?”
“Yes. Benny and me.”
Billy leaned out of the saddle. “Listen, it’s not my place to tell you how to do your job, Tom, but if they are the ones who did this, they’ll be expecting someone to follow. You follow too soon, and they’ll kill you in the dark. You’ll never see it coming. And torches at night out there in the mountains… Hell, they’ll attract every zom for a hundred miles.”
“Then we’ll leave at first light.”
“Wait,” Benny interjected, “what about Nix?”
“Billy’s right. We can’t find her if we’re dead.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence. They did not sleep at all that night. They got cleaned up, ate a large high-protein meal of meat and eggs, and dressed for hiking. They packed only those supplies they needed to take, including several bottles of cadaverine and two tough but lightweight carpet coats. They took plenty of weapons- after all, this was no longer just a hunting trip. It was a rescue mission. And it was even more than that. The Imura brothers were going to war.
When they stepped out onto the porch an hour before first light, Benny turned and looked back at their house. A shiver ran up his spine and raised bumps on his arms, and he had a dark feeling that he would never see the house again, maybe never see the town of Mountainside again. The feeling lingered for a long moment and then passed, leaving him as abruptly as it had come. What remained in its place was a coldness of spirit that he had never felt before, and it had nothing to do with his house or this town. His world had changed again, and he knew it. This time it had not been the removal of veils from naive eyes. Benny knew that much for sure. No, this time he felt as if a piece of him had been carved out, forcibly taken, thrown away. Although he had not been tortured as Mr. Sacchetto had or beaten as Mrs. Riley and Morgie had, he had been hurt just as surely. He could feel it. It was a dead place on his soul, as insensate as scar tissue and as violently earned.
He turned away from the house and stood on the top step of the porch with Tom. Without speaking they adjusted the straps of their packs, patted their pockets for the necessary things they would need out in the Ruin, and made sure of their weapons. Benny had his wooden sword, and he had a sturdy hunting knife that Tom had told him to hang from his belt.
The last thing he’d packed was Nix’s small leather notebook. He hadn’t opened it yet. Nothing in there would be a clue to finding her, but having it felt like a talisman. He slipped it into his back pocket.
“Tom?” he asked.
“Yes?”
“Are you sure it’s them? Charlie and the Hammer?”
“Yes.”