Flesh & Bone (Rot & Ruin, #3)(90)

“What happened?”

“Well, it turns out that he ate himself a leg of wild mutton he’d shot and got sick. He asked my pa to take a look at him, and Pa asked to see the rest of the sheep he’d cut the leg off of.” She paused while she helped Chong step over the back of the quad. There was no seat belt, but she lashed him in place with some rope she took from a gear bag.

When he was settled in, he said, “I think I can guess what your father found when he examined the sheep.”

Riot nodded, but said it anyway. “There was a small bite on its shoulder. Not bad, and not fatal, but a bite. One of them had tried to chow down on it and the critter scampered.”

“So what happened to Hiram?”

“That’s the funny part. And I mean—”

“Funny weird, not funny ha-ha, I get it.”

She nodded. “Hiram got sick as a hound dog. Lay in bed for ten, twelve days, and they posted a guard on him in case he needed seeing to.”

“But . . . ?”

Riot picked up Eve, kissed her, hugged her, and then placed her in the seat. “Hold on to her.”

“Don’t worry,” said Chong, “I won’t let her go. But what happened to Hiram? Did he get better?”

A few strange expressions wandered across Riot’s features. “Not ‘better’ as you’d like to hear. He didn’t die, though. Not exactly. Old Hiram got better enough to get out of bed. He could talk to people and all, and he even went back to hunting after a time.”

“But . . . ?” Chong urged. He wanted to kick her.

“He never did get all the way right again. And every once in a while he’d come down all bitey.”

“‘Bitey’?”

“Yeah. He’d get riled and go all weird and try to take a chomp outta someone. Did it more than once.”

“He bit people?”

Riot looked away. “Might even have eaten some people, but that was just a rumor. He run off after a while, ’bout a half step before people did something permanent about him.”

“What—I mean—what was he?”

“Don’t know what science would call that feller. We kids gave him a nickname, though.”

“I can’t wait to hear this,” said Chong.

“We called him a half-zee,” she said. “Hiram Half-Zee.”

“Swell,” he said, and thought, Lilah will just love that. Right up until she quiets me.

“Hold on, boy,” said Riot. She perched on the very front of the crowded seat, then fired up the quad, and a moment later they were zooming through the forest, the four fat tires kicking up plumes of sandy soil behind them.





70

“NIX, I THINK WE NEED TO FIND THIS ‘SANCTUARY’ PLACE. YOU READ THAT report, you saw the notes. Whoever this Dr. McReady was, she thought she was really onto something important. Faster zoms? Smarter zoms? If there are scientists and some kind of military at Sanctuary, then they have to be told about this. We can’t just let this stuff rot here.”

Nix chewed her lip thoughtfully.

“And we have to warn the people at Sanctuary about the reapers. I didn’t understand everything that went on out there, but that woman, Mother Rose, and those reaper freaks are going to attack that place.”

“I don’t want to get in the middle of another big fight,” Nix said. “After Charlie and White Bear and Preacher Jack, I don’t know if I can . . . ”

Her voice trailed off, and she closed her eyes.

“Nix,” he said softly, “I’m not going to make any stupid speeches about destiny, but . . . ”

“But you are anyway,” she said, looking at him now. “You’re going to say that something—destiny, fate, or Tom’s ghost—steered us here, and now we have to make some huge decision about what to do with this information. Right?”

He said nothing.

“You’re going to say that this is one of those ‘it’s up to us or no one’ things, like all those heroic stories you and Morgie used to read. The hero on the journey who faces a challenge only he can handle, blah, blah, blah.”

Benny held his tongue.

“And you’re going to say that the tough thing to do is the right thing to do. That it’s the samurai thing to do. That it’s the warrior smart thing to do. That if we have information that could save lives, then it’s our responsibility to do exactly that. Right? Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

He cleared his throat. “Something like that.”


Nix leaned on the back of the pilot’s chair and stared out of the window. She let out a long sigh and in a voice that was odd and distant said, “Tom taught us a lot more than how to fight. More than the Warrior Smart stuff. Being able to fight is never going to be enough. Not in this world. Charlie learned that. So did White Bear and Preacher Jack.”

“No.”

“Sometimes it’s easy to forget what the word ‘samurai’ means.”

“‘To serve,’” said Benny.

“To serve,’” she agreed. “To do the honorable thing. The right thing, even when it’s hard. Even when it hurts.”

She bent and picked up her bokken, which had fallen to the floor. Nix looked at it for a long moment, then turned slowly toward Benny. She looked tired, frightened, and stressed, but beneath all that an old, familiar green fire burned in her eyes. She took a breath and gave Benny a single, decisive nod.