He set down his dish and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Look,” he said, “I’m nobody’s idea of a hero, but I don’t think I want to go back to town just yet. In fact, I don’t think I can go back to town, knowing that those other kids are up there.”
“What are you suggesting?” asked Nix. “That we march into his camp and ask him to release those kids?”
“I don’t know, but we have to do something,” said Benny. He jumped to his feet in agitation and began walking back and forth as he spoke. “I can’t just go on with my life, knowing that they’re out there and that they’re going to just go on destroying other families and other lives without anyone even trying to stop them. Tom said that before First Night, people wouldn’t do anything. They’d let families live on the street and starve. I can’t. That’s not the kind of world I want to live in.”
“But the camp,” said Lilah. “Too many men.”
“How many?”
She thought about it. “Maybe twelve. Maybe twenty.”
“Too many of them, but—,” began Nix.
“Not enough of us,” said Lilah, finishing the thought.
Benny suddenly straightened. “Wait, wait … Let me think for a second. Lilah, you said it. There’s not enough of us. Right … riiiight …” He trailed off and looked at the rocky ceiling, as if he could see out of the cave and through the mountain and all the way to Charlie’s camp. An idea was forming in his head. But the idea was insane and stupid. It was absurd and impossible.
“What is it?” asked Nix.
“Hm?” he said distractedly.
“Why are you smiling?”
He hadn’t realized that he was, and he certainly had no reason to smile. The idea that had started to take form in his head wasn’t funny. It was suicidal.
“Okay,” he said, his eyes brighter than the lamplight. “I have an idea, but you won’t like it.”
“Tell,” insisted the Lost Girl.
“For this to work,” said Benny, “we’ll need to create a diversion and then get the kids out.”
“What kind of diversion? The guys are used to being out here. They’re always on guard. Whatever we do, they’ll see it coming.”
Benny Imura gave the girls a very strange, very dark grin. “No,” he said, “I can guarantee you they won’t see this coming.”
And he told them what that was.
47
LILAH AND NIX STARED AT BENNY IN TOTAL SILENCE FOR MORE THAN TWO minutes. The stew in the pot began to bubble and burn; the waterfall roared softly in the background. Somewhere deep in the cave, water dripped with the constant rhythm of a metronome. Benny stood there and waited out the silence.
“You are crazy,” said Lilah.
“Probably,” said Benny.
“Are you serious?” asked Nix.
“As a heart attack,” said Benny.
Lilah took the burning stew off the fire and set it on the rocks. She leaned toward Nix. “Is he … damaged?” She touched her head to indicate where the suspected damage might lie. Nix held one hand up and seesawed it back and forth.
“Opinions vary,” she said.
“It could work,” said Benny.
“We could die, Benny,” Nix said.
“We could,” admitted Benny. “Maybe we will.”
“Maybe not,” said Lilah, and they both looked at her. A crooked smile had worked its way onto her lips, and she appeared to be re-evaluating his plan.
“Maybe not,” repeated Benny.
Nix ran her fingers through the red tangles of her hair. “Maybe not,” she agreed eventually, although with far less conviction.
The shadows made the cave seem as vast as outer space.
“You do understand that this plan is crazy,” Nix said.
“Yes,” said Lilah, tapping her skull again. “Very crazy.”
“No doubt.” Benny nodded. “But it’s also justice.”
Nix snorted. “Justice is dead.”
Benny broke out into another twisted grin. “It sure as hell is.”
The Lost Girl turned to him, and her smile was every bit as big and bright and dark as his.
It took Nix another few seconds, but then the crazy sense of it took hold in the cracks that had been torn in her heart by Charlie Pink-eye and the Motor City Hammer. Then she too smiled.
Anyone seeing those three teenagers smiling the kinds of smiles they wore would run in terror.
Benny was counting on it.
48