“Benny’s already been to the Ruin, Charlie. He did just fine.”

Charlie’s own smile returned as he looked at Benny. “You been out in the great zombie wonderland, kid?”

When Benny said nothing, Tom surprised him by saying, “Answer the man, Benny.”

“Yes.”

“Be polite, Benny,” Tom chided.

“Yes … sir.”

Charlie nodded approval. “You got him trained good as a hunting dog.”

Benny held his ground. “He’s training me to be a hunter,” he said with a growl, “and we’re going to go find the Lost Girl and bring her back to town. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He didn’t know why he said it, and even as he said it he knew it wasn’t true, but he wanted to wipe the smirk off of Charlie’s face.

His words did just that. Charlie’s eyes hardened to stone, and he opened his mouth to say something. Tom put a hand on Benny’s shoulder. “We’ll be moving on home, fellas.”

He turned, pulling Benny gently, but before they went three steps, Charlie said something quietly to the Hammer, and they both laughed. It was a dark and ugly laugh, heavy and swollen with the promise of awful things. Benny tensed, wanting to turn, but Tom’s hand was like iron on his shoulder.

“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 Man.’ The Hammer too. But a few minutes ago I saw you holding your own against Charlie. That didn’t look like a friendly chat, but if there’s even the slightest chance you’re going to share a single word of this with Charlie or the Hammer, then I can’t and won’t say a single word about Lilah. On the other hand, if I thought that I could trust you—completely and without reservation—then I might consider telling you the whole story.”

“You can—,” Benny began, but Tom stopped him with a raised finger.

“I don’t want an answer right now, Benny. I want us to do our training session and then we’ll have some dinner. We’ll talk after.”

“Why not now?”

“Because you want it too much now.”

“Great time to go Zen on me.”

Tom shrugged. “If I have to get to know who you are, you have to get to know who I am. Fair’s fair.” He opened the gate. “Let’s go.”

Benny stood outside the gate, drumming his fingers on the wooden top rail. He didn’t understand Tom at the best of times, and for a few seconds he felt like he’d just missed the punchline of a joke. He looked down at the card, as if the Lost Girl could whisper some explanation to him.

“Honestly … is it just me or is Tom crazy?”

The Lost Girl’s eyes held infinite answers, but he couldn’t hear a word. He sighed, tucked the card into his pocket, and headed into the house.

Fifteen minutes later Tom tried to kill Benny with a sword.

21

BENNY TWISTED OUT OF THE WAY OF THE SWORD WITH MAYBE A MICRON to spare. He could feel the blade slice the air; he heard the swoosh of the wind. Benny threw himself to one side and tried to roll behind the picnic table, but Tom was as nimble as an ape. He leaped onto the tabletop, dropped quickly into a crouch, and as Benny came out of his roll and started to rise, Tom stopped him with the edge of his weapon across Benny’s windpipe.

“You’re dead.”

Benny put a finger against the blunt edge of the wooden practice sword and pushed it away.

“You cheated.”

Tom lowered his sword. “How do you figure that?”

“I dropped my sword,” Benny said. “I told you to give me a second.”

“Oh, please. Like anyone out in the Ruin is going to cut you any slack.”

“Zoms don’t carry swords.”

“That’s hardly the point.”

“And, as far as I know, none of the other bounty hunters do either.”

Tom picked up a towel and wiped sweat from his face. “Now you’re lying to save face. You saw one of them use a sword when we were out in the—”

“Okay, okay, whatever. Let me catch my breath.” Benny dropped his wooden sword and trudged over to the pitcher of iced tea and drank two cupfuls. “Besides,” he said, turning back, “I’d rather learn how to use a gun.”

“You already know how to shoot.”

“Not like you.” He almost said “not like Charlie,” but caught himself. Last year Charlie had given a demonstration of pistol and rifle trick shooting at the harvest fair. Tom had watched the whole thing with narrowed eyes and a wooden face. Thinking back on that, Benny wondered if Tom was anywhere near as good as Charlie with a gun. He’d had never seen his brother shoot.

Tom didn’t reply. He weighed the wooden bokken in his hand and cut a few slow-motion lines through the air.

“Will you teach me to shoot?”

“Eventually, sure,” said Tom. “Though … you know enough now to stop one of the dead if you get into trouble. But I already told you that I prefer swords and knives. They’re quieter and they—”

“Don’t need to be reloaded,” Benny interrupted. “Yeah, I remember. You’ve told me fifteen times. You also said that sometimes quiet doesn’t matter.”

“True, but there are a lot more times when it does.” Tom hooked the tip of his sword under Benny’s and flipped it up so that it tumbled over and over in the air. It came at Benny faster than expected, and he surprised himself by getting a hand up in time to catch it. Tom grinned. “At least your reflexes are good.”

“Hooray for me.”

Tom raised his sword in a formal two-hand grip and waited until Benny finished making faces and did the same. Tom moved to his right, beginning a slow sideway circle, always keeping his sword ready. Benny shifted to his left, matching him.