Rot & Ruin (Rot & Ruin, #1)(103)

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?”