His stomach churned with confusion and conflict. Even now, even after that incredible kiss he and Nix had shared, when he looked at the picture of the Lost Girl, he felt an almost physical impact. The desire to find and protect Lilah was every bit as strong now as it was when he’d first turned over her card on the porch at Lafferty’s General Store, and that made as little sense to him now as it did then. He didn’t know this girl. Even Sacchetto and Tom hadn’t really known her. Even if she was still out here somewhere, she was nothing and no one to him. And yet …
And yet.
He studied the card for a long time, even as exhaustion dragged on his eyelids. Nix groaned again in the private hell of her troubled sleep. Benny looked from Nix to the Lost Girl and back to Nix.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Then he stretched out his other hand, and for the second time, he opened his fingers and let the wind take the card. It blew high into the air, tumbling over and over again, its pasteboard face flashing with silver starlight, and then it dropped into the darkness below.
Benny bent and kissed Nix’s cheek. He leaned back against the wall and stared at the night and drifted off into a sea of stars.
41
“NOW AIN’T THIS JUST ADORABLE.”
Benny and Nix jerked awake at the sound of the voice, blinking in the harsh dawn light, struggling to disentangle themselves from each other and understand where on Earth they were.
Two men stood on the metal catwalk that ran around the outside of the deserted ranger station. Both men had guns holstered on their hips, shotguns slung over their shoulders, and ugly smiles on their mouths.
Skins and Turk.
“Ain’t nothing like young love,” said Turk.
“Warms the cockles of my heart,” agreed Skins.
Benny instinctively spread his arms, like a barrier between the bounty hunters and Nix.
“Charlie’s going to like this,” said Skins. “He was pretty smoked about the little witch skipping out like that.”
“Leave us alone,” Benny said with a growl.
“Yeah.” Turk laughed. “That’s gonna happen. We spent the whole damn night searching these freaking woods and then climbed this big mother of a tower, just to go away ’cause you asked. Yessir, we’ll be on our way, so sorry to bother your beauty sleep.”
Skins tapped his palm on his thigh, like he was calling in the dogs. “C’mon … get your butts over here.”
Benny and Nix slowly got to their feet, but they made no move toward the bounty hunters. Turk went into the ranger station and came out with the bokken. “Look,” he said. “Kid has a toy sword.”
He raised it over his head and brought it down in a powerful two-hand swing onto the metal rail. The hard wood rebounded from the hit, but did not break. Turk cursed and turned it sideways and slammed the flat of the blade onto the rail, and with a sharp crack the sword snapped in half. The long end went spinning off into the canopy of trees far below. Turk laughed and tossed the broken handle onto the catwalk.
“They have anything else in there?” Skins asked.
“Nah.”
“Then let’s haul it,” snapped Skins to Benny and Nix. “C’mon, kids, Charlie is going to have a lot of stuff to talk to you two about. Should be a pretty interesting chat.”
“A heart-to-heart.” Turk laughed.
“A meaningful discussion,” agreed Skins.
“Let us go,” said Nix. “You can do that. You can just tell Charlie that you didn’t find us.”
Skins looked genuinely confused. “Now why on Earth would we want to do that?”
Benny took a step forward. “Do you know what Charlie did last night?”
“None of my business.”
“You’re with him. You’re helping him do this stuff.”
Skins looked bored. “Is this where you try to appeal to my better nature, kid?”
Behind him Turk cracked up. “Good luck with that.”
“Please …,” Benny said. “We didn’t do anything to you.”
“Who cares?”
“I won’t let you take her—”
Skins suddenly backhanded Benny across the face. It was so fast and hard that Benny was falling before he realized that he’d been hit. He hit the railing with the small of his back and might have gone over if Nix hadn’t grabbed him and hauled him away. Benny sank to his knees and spit blood and a piece of tooth onto the catwalk.
“Leave him alone!” Nix yelled.
The bounty hunter snatched a handful of Nix’s hair, tore her away from Benny, and slammed her against the station wall.
“Shut up, girlie. You don’t tell us what to do.”
Benny came off the deck in a surge and drove his fist into Skins’ ribs. It was a good try, but he was still dizzy from the blow he’d taken, and his fist merely skittered along the big man’s side. Skins pivoted and drove a heavy punch into Benny’s back, nailing him squarely between the shoulder blades and knocking him flat onto his chest.
“Try that crap again, kid, and I’ll cut pieces off of you.”
It was all Benny could do to breathe. When he’d landed, his breastbone had struck the broken bokken handle, and it felt like the hard wood had punched a hole through his chest.
“Benny!” Nix cried, but when she tried to bend to help him, Turk grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her away. The action caused her shirt to ride high and expose most of her midriff. Both of the bounty hunters whistled and laughed and made comments that were as vulgar as they were threatening. Nix did not give in or give up. She fought them, kicking out as hard as she could, slapping at Turk’s face, raking her nails on his arms, pounding her fists on his chest and cheeks. Her attack was so sudden and fierce that for a moment the bounty hunter reeled back, letting go of her to use both hands to block his face. Nix tried to kick him in the groin, but Turk turned his hip and swatted hard enough her across the face to spin her into the wall again. She hit hard and slid down to her knees.
“Filthy little whore!” Turk growled. His lip and right ear were already swelling.
But even then Nix would not stop. As Benny watched she launched herself from her knees and drove into Turk’s legs, knocking him back against the rail. She made a sound like a hunting cat, a snarl that started low in her gut and rose up, filtered through rage and humiliation and the certain knowledge of what the future held. Her scream scared the birds from the trees and echoed off the mountain slope. Turk kept backing away from her, startled and confused by this child who had been frightened and cowering all last night and who was now attacking him with insane strength and speed.
“Slap some sense into that little hellcat,” demanded Skins. “Screw it … let me do it.”
Skins stepped over Benny and reached to take a handful of Nix’s hair, just as Turk caught one of her wrists and then another. Skins drew a knife with his free hand. “I’ve had enough of your crap, girlie girl. You don’t need both eyes to fight in the zombie pits.”
That was all Benny could take. Even though he could barely breathe, he dug one hand under his chest and grabbed the broken bokken handle, then jammed the other hand hard against the catwalk and heaved himself to his knees.
“Leave her alone!” he screamed and with all of the fury and fear that flowed through him, he drove the jagged end of the bokken into Skins’s back. When the sword had snapped, it left a hardwood stump that was as sharp as a real blade, and Benny threw his weight behind the thrust. The jagged point bit deep into the soft spot above the bounty hunter’s belt, and Benny buried it to the hilt. Blood ran hot and red over his fist, and Skins whirled and clubbed him down. Benny fell, raising his arms to ward off the next blow, but Skins stood there, gasping like a fish out of water, eyes bugged wide in unbelieving surprise.
Nix stamped down hard on Turk’s foot and tore her wrists free of his grip, then shoved him in the chest as hard as she could, hoping to knock him over the rail. Turk was so busy staring at Skins that he was caught off guard, and staggered back all the way to the rail by the ladder, but he did not go over.
Instead, he caught his balance at the last second. Skins dropped heavily to his knees, the impact causing the metal catwalk to ring like a bell. His eyes rolled up, and he fell forward onto his face with a meaty crunch.
“You’re dead.” Turk snarled at Benny. He grabbed his pistol and whipped it from the holster, thumbing back the hammer in a smooth and practiced move. “I’ll friggin’ kill you both for—”
That was all he got out. It was all he would ever say again.
He looked down at his chest, at the bizarre thing that suddenly sprouted from between the ribs on the left side. Benny and Nix stared as well. The whole front of Turk’s shirt exploded with red as three gleaming inches of sharpened steel extruded from the bounty hunter’s chest. He tried to say something, but there was no air left in his lungs, no power left in his voice.
Behind him there was a blur of movement and a grunt of effort. The blade vanished, pulled back into the wound and then out of Turk’s body. Benny watched as the person behind him cocked a leg, placed a foot on the bounty hunter’s body, and shoved him forward, so that he landed face-down, inches from Skins.
The figure stood there in the harsh morning sunlight. Tattered jeans and hand-sewn leather moccasins, a shirt that had once been bright with a wildflower pattern, with a leather pouch slung across her body on a thin strap. Hair the color of newly fallen snow swirled around her tanned face, and she stared at them with cunning hazel eyes. In her tanned hands she held a spear crudely made from a long piece of quarter-inch black pipe wrapped in leather and topped with the blade from a Marine Corps bayonet.
The Lost Girl.
42
“WHO ARE YOU?” NIX ASKED, BUT AT THE SAME TIME BENNY SPOKE her name.
“Lilah!”
The girl stiffened, and the bloody spear swung around in his direction. Her hazel eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
Benny held up his hands. “No, wait … I’m Benny Imura.”
She showed no sign of recognition.
“I’m Tom Imura’s brother.”
The girl said nothing.
“My brother, Tom … He knew George!”
If he had struck her across the face, he could not have changed her expression more quickly. The suspicion vanished to be replaced by shock.
“G—George?”
She spoke the name, as if her throat was dusty from disuse, and Benny realized that in a very real way it probably was. Almost immediately her suspicions returned, and the tip of the spear rose another inch, level with his eye.
“Where?” she demanded. “George.”
Nix glanced at Benny, putting things together very quickly. “Is this her?” she whispered.
“George!” the Lost Girl prompted with a shake of her spear. Her voice was still a husky whisper, and Benny remembered that horrible story that Rob Sacchetto had told him of how Lilah had started screaming when the men in that little cottage had been forced to kill her mother after she’d reanimated as a zombie.
She screamed herself raw, and then she stopped talking. Those screams must have damaged her vocal chords for good, leaving her with a voice like a graveyard whisper.
God.
“I … don’t know where he is,” Benny said quickly. “My brother knew him. He helped George look for you.”
“Look? For … me?” It was clearly hard for the girl to form sentences. It was a skill that she’d lost over time. Benny could not imagine going for years without speaking to anyone. In some odd way that was as bad as living out here in the zombie wasteland.
“When the bounty hunters took you and your sister from George, he started looking for you.” Benny risked taking a slight step toward her, despite the threat of the deadly spear. “He never stopped, Lilah. George never stopped looking for you. And for Annie.”
At the mention of her sister’s name, Lilah’s eyes filled with tears, but her mouth tightened into a bitter line.
“Lilah, listen to me. The men who hurt you, the men who hurt Annie and George …”
“Benny,” Nix said softly. “Don’t …”
“Those same men hurt Nix’s mother.” He turned his head for a second to indicate Nix. “They hurt her … and she died.”
Lilah held her ground, eyes boring into his.
“And they killed my brother.” Benny licked his lips. “Those men took the people we all loved. They took from each of us.” As Benny said it, he realized that he did love Tom. As troubled and confused as their relationship had once been, Benny felt an ache that went all the way to the core of his heart. “They hurt all of us, Lilah. Do you understand? All of us.” He leaned on that last word and saw how it worked on her, changing her eyes and the line of her mouth. The spear tip wavered ever so slightly.
“Us,” he repeated. “You … Nix … me. Us.”
Benny waited for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, and then took another step forward. The tip of the spear was inches from his face now. Moving very slowly, hands open, eyes fixed on Lilah’s, he reached up and touched the point where the Marine Corps bayonet was attached to the shaft of the spear. He pushed it aside, and the Lost Girl allowed it.
After a moment she stepped back and lowered the weapon.
“Us,” she said.
“Us,” agreed Benny.
After a moment Nix said, “Us.”
Abruptly the Lost Girl stiffened and looked over the rail. Benny and Nix looked as well, but if there was something to see, they didn’t see it. Lilah, however, did.
