Rot & Ruin (Rot & Ruin, #1)(65)

fingers. “Got something!”

Tom and Strunk hurried over, and Benny had to crane his neck to see past them. Gorman pushed aside some broken crockery, and there on the floor was an old battered coin. On one side was an

exotic flower, on the other were the words: “Chúc may m n.”

He handed it to Strunk, but Tom took it from him.

“It means ‘good luck,’” said Tom.

“What language is that?” asked Gorman. “The Rileys are Irish. Is that Gaelic?”

“No,” said Tom, “it’s Vietnamese.”

Strunk frowned. “Then … this wasn’t Charlie and the Hammer?”

“It was the Mekong brothers,” said Gorman.

Tom turned the coin over and over between his fingers. He didn’t nod, didn’t even grunt to show that he agreed with this assessment.

“Benny … let’s go home and pack.”

“Pack for where?” Strunk demanded. “I’ll bring the bloody Mekong brothers in.”

“Go right ahead,” said Tom, “but in the meantime my brother and I are going to go after the people who actually did this.”

“What are you talking about? We have proof right here.”

Tom didn’t bother to answer. He dropped the coin on the floor and walked toward the door.

Outside, they had to push through a crowd that was ten deep. Everyone had questions, but Tom’s face was a stone. Benny shoved and pushed to stay at his brother’s back. The medics had taken

Morgie to the hospital.

When they were through they walked down the street. The sky above them had cleared, and there was a surprisingly cold wind. Benny waited until they were out of earshot.

“Tom … I’m sorry about Mrs. Riley.”

If Tom heard him, he didn’t reply.

“Are we going to find Nix?”

“We’re going to try.”

“They killed Mr. Sacchetto and Mrs. Riley to get information on the Lost Girl. Why hurt Morgie?”

“You saw him. He was dressed nice, carrying flowers. He was calling on Nix, and he showed up at the wrong time, poor kid.”

“So why take Nix?”

Tom’s bleak expression was answer enough. Nix would either be killed … or taken to Gameland.

One of the town watch guards caught up to them and reined his horse to a stop. “Tom,” he said, “the gate guards said that Charlie and the Hammer left almost three hours ago.”

“What about Nix?”


The guard answered, “It was just after all the excitement, you know? The Hammer had that big equipment bag of his— you know the long canvas one? It was slung over his back and looked

heavy, but the guard didn’t even think to ask what was in it. He assumed it was filled with guns and stuff. Bounty hunter’s stuff. He figured Charlie and the Hammer had gotten a job

because of what happened.”

“Yeah,” Tom said tightly. “What about the Mekong brothers?”

“They left a few minutes later. They both had their kit bags strapped over the saddle of that ugly donkey they have. The one they call Uncle Sam.”

Tom had never thought much of the Mekong brothers’ sense of humor.

“Thanks, Billy,” Tom said.

“Are … you going out after them?”

“Yes. Benny and me.”

Billy leaned out of the saddle. “Listen, it’s not my place to tell you how to do your job, Tom, but if they are the ones who did this, they’ll be expecting someone to follow. You follow

too soon, and they’ll kill you in the dark. You’ll never see it coming. And torches at night out there in the mountains … Hell, they’ll attract every zom for a hundred miles.”

“Then we’ll leave at first light.”

“Wait,” Benny interjected, “what about Nix?”

“Billy’s right. We can’t find her if we’re dead.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. They did not sleep at all that night. They got cleaned up, ate a large high-protein meal of meat and eggs, and dressed for hiking. They packed

only those supplies they needed to take, including several bottles of cadaverine and two tough but lightweight carpet coats. They took plenty of weapons—after all, this was no longer just a

hunting trip. It was a rescue mission. And it was even more than that. The Imura brothers were going to war.

When they stepped out onto the porch an hour before first light, Benny turned and looked back at their house. A shiver ran up his spine and raised bumps on his arms, and he had a dark

feeling that he would never see the house again, maybe never see the town of Mountainside again. The feeling lingered for a long moment and then passed, leaving him as abruptly as it had

come. What remained in its place was a coldness of spirit that he had never felt before, and it had nothing to do with his house or this town. His world had changed again, and he knew it.

This time it had not been the removal of veils from naive eyes. Benny knew that much for sure. No, this time he felt as if a piece of him had been carved out, forcibly taken, thrown away.

Although he had not been tortured as Mr. Sacchetto had or beaten as Mrs. Riley and Morgie had, he had been hurt just as surely. He could feel it. It was a dead place on his soul, as