Rot & Ruin (Rot & Ruin, #1)(16)

“Hell, no.”

“Language.”

Benny said it slower and with more emphasis. “Hell. No.”

“Glad to hear it.” Tom held out the field glasses. “Take a look at the two dead people down there. Tell me what you see.”

“So we’re back to business now?” Benny gave him a look. “You’re deeply weird, man.”

“Just look.”

Benny sighed and grabbed the binoculars out of Tom’s hand, put them to his eyes. Stared. Sighed.

“Yep. Two zoms. Same two zoms.”

“Be specific.”

“Okay. Okay, two zoms. One man, one woman. Standing in the same place as before. Big yawn.”

Tom said, “Those dead people …”

“What about them?”

“They used to be somebody’s family,” said Tom quietly. “The male looks old enough to have been someone’s granddad. He had a family, friends. A name. He was somebody.”

Benny lowered the glasses and started to speak.

“No,” said Tom. “Keep looking. Look at the woman. She was, what? Eighteen years old when she died. Might have been pretty. Those rags she’s wearing might have been a waitress’s uniform

once. She could have worked at a diner right next to Aunt Cathy. She had people at home who loved her. …”

“C’mon, man, don’t—”

“People who worried when she was late getting home. People who wanted her to grow up happy. People—a mom and a dad. Maybe brothers and sisters. Grandparents. People who believed that girl

had a life in front of her. That old man might be her granddad.”

“But she’s one of them, man. She’s dead,” Benny said defensively.

“Sure. Almost everyone who ever lived is dead. More than six billion people are dead. And every last one of them had family once. Every last one of them were family once. At one time there

was someone like you who would have kicked the crap out of anyone—stranger or best friend—who harmed or disrespected that girl. Or the old man.”

Benny was shaking his head. “No, no, no. It’s not the same. These are zoms, man. They kill people. They eat people.”

“They used to be people.”

“But they died!”

“Sure. Like Aunt Cathy and Mr. Mitchell.”

“No … Aunt Cathy got cancer. Mr. Mitchell died in an accident.”

“Sure, but if someone in town hadn’t quieted them, they’d have become living dead, too. Don’t even pretend you don’t know that. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about that happening

to Aunt Cathy.” He nodded down the hill. “Those two down there caught a disease.”

Benny said nothing. He’d learned about it in school, though no one knew for sure what had actually happened. Some sources said it was a virus that was mutated by radiation from a returning

space probe. Others said it was a new type of flu that came over from China. Chong believed it was something that got out of a lab somewhere. The only thing everyone agreed on was that it

was a disease of some kind.

“That guy down there was probably a farmer,” Tom said. “The girl was a waitress. I’m pretty sure neither of them was involved in the space program. Or worked in some lab where they

researched viruses. What happened to them was an accident. They got sick, Benny, and they died.”

Benny said nothing.

“How do you think Mom and Dad died?”

No answer.

“Benny—? How do you think?”

“They died on First Night,” Benny said irritably.

“They did. But how?”

Benny said nothing.

“How?”

“You let them die!” Benny said in a savage whisper. Words tumbled out of him in a disjointed sputter. “Dad got sick and … and … then Mom tried to … and you … you just ran away!”

Tom said nothing, but sadness darkened his eyes, and he shook head slowly.

“I remember it,” Benny growled. “I remember you running away.”

“You were a baby.”

“I remember it.”

“You should have told me, Benny.”

“Why? So you could make up a lie about why you just ran away and left my mom like that?”

The words “my mom” hung in the air between them. Tom winced.

“You think I just ran away?” he said.

“I don’t think it, Tom. I remember it.”

“Do you remember why I ran?”

“Yeah, ’cause you’re a freaking coward is why!”

“Jesus,” Tom whispered. He adjusted the strap that held the sword in place, and sighed again. “Benny, this isn’t the time or place for this, but sometime soon we’re going to have a

serious talk about the way things were back then and the way things are now.”

“There’s nothing you can say that’s going to change the truth.”

“No. The truth is the truth. What changes is what we know about it and what we’re willing to believe.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“If you ever want to know my side of things,” said Tom, “I’ll tell you. There’s a lot you were too young to know then, and maybe you’re still too young now.”