Rot & Ruin (Rot & Ruin, #1)(62)

was one, and today Charlie saw Rob talking to Benny about the Lost Girl. I think they tried to torture the information out of him.”

Benny stiffened and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Wait! You said that there were only a couple of people you told about the Lost Girl. Who else did you tell?”

Tom’s face went white, and his eyes snapped wide. “I’m a bloody fool!”

“What is it?” Strunk demanded.

“God, I hope I haven’t gotten them killed!”

Tom shoved past Strunk and bolted from the house. Benny and the captain ran after him, but by the time they were on the top step, Tom was a block away and running full tilt for the poor side

of town.

“Where’s he going?” Strunk asked, grabbing Benny’s shoulder.

Benny shook off the grab and ran after his brother without answering. He already knew where Tom was going. There was only one other person Tom trusted that much.

Jessie Riley.

As he ran, Benny repeated a single word over and over:

“Nix.”





29


BENNY RAN AS FAST HE COULD, AND EVEN THOUGH TOM WAS FAR AHEAD, by the time they passed the stables, Benny had caught up. Captain Strunk was blocks behind. As they passed the long, flat

Ration Office, they ran abreast, and it was side-by-side that they jumped the hedges on the left side of the Riley property. They skidded to a halt in the wet grass.

A boy sat on the top step of the tiny house. He was neatly dressed, and he held a small bunch of daffodils in one hand, the flowers lying in twisted tangles across his thighs.

Benny said, with total surprise, “Morgie?”

The boy did not move. His head was bowed forward, as if he dozed there on the porch step. Moonlight was breaking through the cloud cover, and in its wan glow, Morgie’s face looked

unnaturally pale.

“Careful, Benny,” Tom warned. He drew his sword and looked up and down the street, but except for the flicker of torchlight, nothing moved. The only sound was the nervous nickering and

blowing of horses in the stables.

Benny took a step forward. Morgie sat still, his arms crossed over his stomach, his knees pressed together. He looked like he was huddled there against the cold rain and had fallen asleep.

Except that his clothes were dry.

“Morgie? Are you okay, man?”

Morgie did not raise his head or move in any way.

“C’mon … don’t do this to me, Morg,” urged Benny as he moved closer. He brought the bokken in front of him, taking it with both hands. “Give me something here, man.”

Slowly, awkwardly, Morgie Mitchell raised his head, and what Benny saw tore a gasp from him. Morgie’s face was as icy pale as the moon. His eyes were dark and uncomprehending, sunk into

shadowy pits, his lips slack.

There was fresh blood on his lips. It glistened like oil in the moonlight.

“No …” Benny’s breaths burned in his lungs, and he shook his head, denying the possibility of this.

Tom raised his sword over his shoulder, the steel glittering in the cold moonlight.

“Say something,” Tom ordered, his voice hard.

Morgie’s mouth worked, but no words came out. Tom’s fingers tightened on the handle of his sword.

“Tom … don’t,” begged Benny.

“I’ll do what I have to, Ben,” said Tom between clenched teeth.

Benny took another step forward. Almost in reach. Morgie’s dark eyes caught his movement, and turned to him.

“Morgie, you fat jerk, you freaking well say something!” Benny yelled. Behind him he heard Captain Strunk come huffing up.

“God!” he said, “Is that the Mitchell boy?”

“His name’s Morgan,” snapped Benny. “Morgie.”

“Is … is he turned?” Strunk glanced at Tom, who gave a tight shake of his head. Not an answer to the question, but rather a command to be quiet.

Benny took one more step closer. Definitely in reach now. Tom hissed, but didn’t move. His blade was poised to cut, and Benny knew how fast his brother was. If Morgie grabbed him, though,

would it be fast enough?

“Morgie … you’re freaking me out here. If this is one of your jokes, it’s not funny.”

Morgie’s mouthed worked and worked.

“Morgie … please.”

Morgie whispered, “Nix!”

Then he bent forward and toppled off the step. Strunk cried out in alarm, clawing at his pistol. Tom almost took the boy’s head off, but checked his swing as Benny darted forward and caught

his friend. Morgie was heavy, and he clamped cold fingers around Benny’s arms and pulled himself closer until his mouth was right next to Benny’s throat. Benny could feel the labored

breathing on his neck.

“Benny get out of there!” Tom yelled. He grabbed Morgie’s shoulder with one hand, keeping the sword raised with the other, ready for the killing blow. “Benny!”

“Kill it!” bellowed Strunk.

Benny wheeled on them with a snarl. “Shut up!” Then he turned back to Morgie and leaned close.

“Benny …” Morgie gasped weakly. “They took Nix.”

“What? What happened?”

“Mrs. Riley … They wanted her to tell them … something … but she wouldn’t. They … beat her up. They made me stand and watch. Gun to my head. Nix tried to … stop them. Couldn’t. She