Rot & Ruin (Rot & Ruin, #1)(46)

“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.

“Quiz time,” said Tom.

“Do we have to?”

“No. You can quit and go shovel body parts into the pit. I’m easy.”

Benny didn’t voice the word that rose to his lips.

“Define ‘kenjutsu.’”

“It’s Japanese for ‘sword methods’ or ‘the way of the sword,’” Benny said in as bored a tone as he could manage. Tom darted forward a half step in a quick fake, and Benny stepped

backward.

“What does ‘samurai’ mean?”

“‘To serve,’” said Benny. This time he tried the same fake, but instead of retreating, Tom stepped in, parried his blade, and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Blood is now pouring out of a hole where your arm used to be.”

“Yeah, yeah, and when I come back as a zom, I’m going to eat your brains.”

Tom laughed and swung another cut, but Benny blocked it, and Benny blocked the next dozen attacks.

“You’re taking it easy on me,” Benny said.

“You have to work up to full speed.”

“I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you—Oh, hell.” Tom moved forward and to one side, and just like that moment back in Harold Simmons’s house, Benny saw his brother’s body blur as Tom moved with incredible speed.

His sword seemed to vanish, but then there was a loud TOK!, and Benny’s bokken was flying out of his hands and the world was tilting. Somehow the grass was under his back, and Tom was

kneeling on him with his sword pressed into the soft flesh beneath Benny’s Adam’s apple.

“Okay,” Benny croaked. “Fair enough. I’m not ready. Get off my nads.”

Tom raised his knee. “Sorry. Meant to pin your hip.”

“You missed,” Benny said in a tiny voice. “Ow.”

“Really,” Tom said. “Sorry.”

He stepped away and let Benny climb to his feet.

“That was cool!”

Benny turned to see Morgie, Chong, and Nix grinning at him from the other side of the garden gate.

“Hit him again,” said Morgie.

“Yeah,” agreed Nix. She didn’t smile as broadly as Morgie, and there was an edge to her voice.

“Kneel on his nuts some more,” suggested Chong. “I don’t think that’s ever going to get old.”


Benny wheeled on Tom. “Why are they here?”

“Suffering is easier to endure when shared,” said Chong as he lifted the gate latch.

“What?”

“They’re here for lessons,” said Tom. “I invited them.”

“Why? And remember that you can’t defend yourself if I smother you in your sleep.”

“Actually, I can. And I lock my bedroom door,” Tom said over his shoulder as he knelt down by the ancient black canvas bag in which he kept his equipment. He removed three battered but

serviceable bokken. “I figured you’d learn better in a class setting. You know … with your friends.”

Benny looked at his friends. Nix was staring acid death at him. Morgie had his hands cupped around his groin, pretending to scream in pain. Chong smiled thinly at him and drew a finger

slowly across his throat.

“‘Friends’?” Benny echoed.

Three hours later the four of them stood on trembling legs. Sweat poured down their bodies. Their clothes were pasted to them, their hair hung in rat tails on their foreheads and the backs

of their necks. Morgie could barely lift his wooden sword. Chong’s face had lost its smile a while back. Benny was wondering if it was okay to wish for a coronary. Only Nix looked

relatively alert. She was as flushed and sweaty as the others, but her hands didn’t tremble as she raised her sword for the last drill.

Tom looked like he just got up from a long nap in a hammock under a shady tree.

“Okay,” Tom said. “Pair up. We’ll run through the same attack and defense we just did, but let’s see if we can take it up a notch. Don’t really try to hit one another, but make the

attacks as real as you can safely manage.”