Rot and Ruin Page 39


“What are you suggesting?” asked Nix. “That we march into his camp and ask him to release those kids?”


“I don’t know, but we have to do something,” said Benny. He jumped to his feet in agitation and began walking back and forth as he spoke. “I can’t just go on with my life, knowing that they’re out there and that they’re going to just go on destroying other families and other lives without anyone even trying to stop them. Tom said that before First Night, people wouldn’t do anything. They’d let families live on the street and starve. I can’t. That’s not the kind of world I want to live in.”


“But the camp,” said Lilah. “Too many men.”


“How many?”


She thought about it. “Maybe twelve. Maybe twenty.”


“Too many of them, but—,” began Nix.


“Not enough of us,” said Lilah, finishing the thought.


Benny suddenly straightened. “Wait, wait … Let me think for a second. Lilah, you said it. There’s not enough of us. Right … riiiight …” He trailed off and looked at the rocky ceiling, as if he could see out of the cave and through the mountain and all the way to Charlie’s camp. An idea was forming in his head. But the idea was insane and stupid. It was absurd and impossible.


“What is it?” asked Nix.


“Hm?” he said distractedly.


“Why are you smiling?”


He hadn’t realized that he was, and he certainly had no reason to smile. The idea that had started to take form in his head wasn’t funny. It was suicidal.


“Okay,” he said, his eyes brighter than the lamplight. “I have an idea, but you won’t like it.”


“Tell,” insisted the Lost Girl.


“For this to work,” said Benny, “we’ll need to create a diversion and then get the kids out.”


“What kind of diversion? The guys are used to being out here. They’re always on guard. Whatever we do, they’ll see it coming.”


Benny Imura gave the girls a very strange, very dark grin. “No,” he said, “I can guarantee you they won’t see this coming.”


And he told them what that was.


47


LILAH AND NIX STARED AT BENNY IN TOTAL SILENCE FOR MORE THAN TWO minutes. The stew in the pot began to bubble and burn; the waterfall roared softly in the background. Somewhere deep in the cave, water dripped with the constant rhythm of a metronome. Benny stood there and waited out the silence.


“You are crazy,” said Lilah.


“Probably,” said Benny.


“Are you serious?” asked Nix.


“As a heart attack,” said Benny.


Lilah took the burning stew off the fire and set it on the rocks. She leaned toward Nix. “Is he … damaged?” She touched her head to indicate where the suspected damage might lie. Nix held one hand up and seesawed it back and forth.


“Opinions vary,” she said.


“It could work,” said Benny.


“We could die, Benny,” Nix said.


“We could,” admitted Benny. “Maybe we will.”


“Maybe not,” said Lilah, and they both looked at her. A crooked smile had worked its way onto her lips, and she appeared to be re-evaluating his plan.


“Maybe not,” repeated Benny.


Nix ran her fingers through the red tangles of her hair. “Maybe not,” she agreed eventually, although with far less conviction.


The shadows made the cave seem as vast as outer space.


“You do understand that this plan is crazy,” Nix said.


“Yes,” said Lilah, tapping her skull again. “Very crazy.”


“No doubt.” Benny nodded. “But it’s also justice.”


Nix snorted. “Justice is dead.”


Benny broke out into another twisted grin. “It sure as hell is.”


The Lost Girl turned to him, and her smile was every bit as big and bright and dark as his.


It took Nix another few seconds, but then the crazy sense of it took hold in the cracks that had been torn in her heart by Charlie Pink-eye and the Motor City Hammer. Then she too smiled.


Anyone seeing those three teenagers smiling the kinds of smiles they wore would run in terror.


Benny was counting on it.


48


ONCE THE IDEA WAS OUT, THEY TACKLED IT AND WRESTLED IT AND BANGED it into a weird shape. It became immediately clear that they had to move fast and start at once. Lilah’s trove of weapons and equipment provided them with everything they needed. As they sorted through the supplies, Lilah never took her eyes off Benny, and he was uncomfortably aware of it. Just as he was aware that Nix never took her eyes off Lilah, and Benny wondered if Nix was trying to telepathically transmit some message. If so, Lilah was either immune to the nuclear radiation of Nix’s thoughts, or didn’t care. Or maybe having lived alone for so long—and all through puberty—she had no clear understanding of what she was feeling, what signals she was sending, and the complexities of social interaction. Benny wished Chong was here to explain it to him.


When they were done gathering the equipment, Lilah led them out of the cave and through her maze of booby traps, then back directly into the forest. She moved fast, selecting paths that were secret as well as efficient. They struggled to keep up as they crossed running water, climbed rocky outcrops, crawled through thorny thickets, and ran along game trails through dappled sunlight. The day felt like the hottest of the whole summer, and sweat poured out of them, but none of them cared. Having a purpose put iron in their limbs; knowing there was a chance to get revenge against Charlie ignited fires in their chests that burned hotter than the sun.


The bounty hunters’ camp was on the far side of the mountain, and it took them almost two hours to reach it. Lilah guided them to a rocky promontory that was overgrown with white sage. They flattened out on the edge of the narrow cliff and pulled foliage over themselves. The camp looked strangely exposed, with paths leading up through forestland to a plateau as flat as a tabletop. Three traders wagons were positioned to block each path, their sides reinforced with sheet metal. The teams of horses were corralled in the center of the camp, each of them wearing a carpet coat, even in the afternoon heat. Without saying a word, Lilah slowly pointed out each guard and the other men wandering around the camp.


Nix cursed very quietly under her breath. There were twenty-three men in the camp. She glanced at Benny, but he kept his jaw set, so she didn’t see the new fear that was making his heart jump around in his chest. The resolve he’d had back in the cave—one part bravery, one part need for revenge, and a couple parts craziness—felt suddenly brittle.


He had not expected there to be so many. Then his roving eyes found the pen where they were holding the kids. It was a pen, too, the kind used for keeping pigs. Two guards stood watch over the captives, and through the shimmering heat haze, it took Benny a couple of tries to count them all. There weren’t a dozen kids. There were nineteen of them. Other bounty hunters must have joined the camp in the last few hours, which would account for the higher number of guards and captives.


Nineteen kids. Five boys, fourteen girls. The oldest looked to be twelve, the youngest about eight. They were all hunkered down, tied together by ropes that were attached to metal rings in the leather collars each of them wore.


Any doubts Benny had when he’d first looked down at the camp withered and died at the sight of those kids huddled like animals in the pen. If Nix hadn’t escaped, she’d be collared and penned with the rest. He knew that Lilah had already been through that hell.


He saw Charlie Pink-eye walk across the center of the camp, and Benny pointed a finger at him, tracking the big bounty hunter, as if he was looking down the barrel of a hunting rifle. If wishes were bullets, Charlie would be sprawled dead in the dirt.


Careful not to make the slightest sound, they crawled back from the edge of the plateau and huddled together under a willow.


“Harder,” Lilah said. “More than I thought.”


“More kids, too. Nineteen.”


Benny cleared a space on the ground and, taking a small stick, began drawing a map of the camp. The others helped, making additions and corrections. Benny asked Lilah to mark where the landmarks were: Coldwater Creek, the blocked highway, the ranger station, and other places that had factored into recent events. Benny studied the map for a long time in silence. He rolled over onto his back and marked the position of the sun. In the Scouts, Mr. Feeney had taught them how to tell the time of day by using the sun, and Benny had a rough guess as to when it would set.


“Okay, we have about five hours until twilight,” he whispered.


“Less,” said Lilah, and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. They looked to where she was pointing and saw a line of heavy clouds.


“Rain?” asked Nix. “Will that help or hurt us?”


“Rain is bad,” said Lilah. “Can’t hear, can’t see.”


“Neither can they,” said Benny. “If it rains, we deal with it. We’ll find a way to make it work for us.”


Lilah took a last look over the edge. “Need go. Much … to …” She stopped, and Benny could see her working something out, then she said, very slowly, “I need to go, now. I have much to do.” She almost blushed. “I don’t … think … the same way I read. It is … harder to put thoughts … into sentences.”


“You’re doing better than I would have if I lived alone all this time,” said Nix. “And you’re doing better than Benny does now.”


“Hey!” said Benny, but he was grinning.


“It’s strange,” said Lilah. “I never thought I would … want to talk. To people. I just talk to Annie and George. In my head.”


For the first time since they’d met the Lost Girl, Benny felt that a window had opened into who she was. It was only open a crack, but he thought he caught a glimpse of the stark loneliness and sadness that defined her interior life, just as the weapons and quick actions defined her exterior world.


“Lilah,” he said, “when this is all over …”


“Yes?”


“I’d like to go on knowing you. I’d like us to be friends.” He cut a look at Nix, who was listening intently. “You, me, Nix. And our other friends. Morgie Mitchell and Lou Chong.”


“‘Friends,’” Lilah echoed, as if it was a word she’d never encountered in any of her reading. “Why?”


Benny opened his mouth to speak, but it was Nix who answered. “Because after all of this, after everything that’s happened to us, Lilah … We’re already family.”


It wasn’t exactly what Benny was going to say, but what she said was right. He nodded. The Lost Girl considered it for a while, then said, “Let’s talk about that tomorrow.”


“Okay,” said Nix, “I’d like—”


“If there is one.” She turned away and checked her weapons as she prepared to depart.


“Lilah,” said Benny, “are you sure you can do this?”


Instead of a smile or some reassuring comment, Lilah simply said, “Have to try.” Then she paused and looked Benny straight in the eye. “Why?”


“Why … what?”


“You could go back. To your town. You and Nix. These people”—she waved a hand in the direction of the kids in the pen—“aren’t yours. So … why?”


Benny didn’t have a ready answer for that. There had not been time to explore his own feelings about everything that had happened or was still happening. He would liked to have made a bold speech about honor and dignity, or fired off a remark of the kind that would be quoted by future generations. All he managed was: “If we don’t do something to stop this, who will?”


Lilah considered him, her hazel eyes seeming to open doors into his thoughts. She must have seen something that she liked, or perhaps it was the simple honesty of his words, because she nodded gravely.


“Have to try,” she said.


“Have to try,” Benny said, nodding. “For Tom, for Nix’s mom … for Annie.”


Lilah closed her eyes for a moment, nodding silently to herself. Then, without another word, she turned and slipped like a promise into the shadows under the trees.


Benny and Nix climbed down from the plateau and found a dark and sheltered spot under a row of thick pines. Their part would not start for hours.


Overhead a lone buzzard drifted on the thermals.


Benny held his hand out to Nix, and she came and sat next to him. They drank from Benny’s canteen and ate some of the dried meat Lilah had given them. It was only marginally less disgusting than her stew, but they were hungry and eating gave them something to do. They said nothing for almost an hour. Benny spent much of that time reviewing the plan and looking for holes. There were plenty to be found. In fact, there were more ways the plan could go wrong than go right.


“Life’s weird,” Benny said.


“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”


“No … It’s just that two weeks ago the worst thing I had to worry about was finding a job before they cut my rations. All summer long the bunch of us—you, me, Chong, and Morgie—all we did was goof off, hang out, and laugh. We used to laugh a lot, Nix. Life used to be fun.”


She nodded sadly.


“I have to believe,” Benny continued, “that we’ll get through this. Not just this stuff tonight, but all of it.”


“Get through it for what reason? Nothing seems to matter anymore.”


“That’s just it, Nix. I can’t let myself believe that nothing matters. You matter. We matter. We both need to believe that we’ll get past this. That we’ll be able to laugh again. That we’ll want to.”

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