Tom stepped between Charlie and them.
“A long time ago I gave you a chance,” said Tom. “Your goons here don’t know it, but I had you down and bleeding when you tried to invade Sunset Hollow. Your life was in my hands, Charlie, and you begged me—begged me—to give you another chance. You swore to me that you’d change, that things would be different. I didn’t know then that you were the one who was behind everything bad that goes on out here. That you started Gameland and that you were the one who kept it going. Back then I thought you were just a hired gun, working for someone else. Now I know different, Charlie. Now I know the truth, and every day for the rest of my life I’m going to feel sick, knowing that I let you live when I should have just switched you off. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was being merciful. Never kill a helpless enemy.” Benny saw Tom’s face darken with self-loathing. “I’ve got five years of blood on my hands, Charlie. How many lives is that? How many men, women, and children whose futures were ruined? How many people tortured or murdered?”
Charlie was not impressed. “Yeah, you suckered me once and got the upper hand, big friggin’ deal. You think that makes you tougher than me? You think that makes you anything? You ain’t nothing but a sad footnote in an old history book, Tom. You’re not a cop and you’re not a samurai. You’re not even a good bounty hunter. You don’t have the guts for it. You’re nothing but a fool and a coward.”
Benny stepped forward and punched Charlie in the face. He put every ounce of outrage and almost fourteen years worth of inner conflict into that punch, and it caught Charlie on the point of the jaw and spun him halfway around.
“My brother is not a coward!” he bellowed.
Time seemed to grind to a halt.
Charlie turned slowly back to face them. There was a purple knot forming on his jaw, but if the punch had done him any real harm, then it didn’t show on his face. His eyes danced with humor, and he wore an ugly butcher’s smile.
“You throw a good punch for a little pup,” he said. “How’s the hand?”
Benny said nothing. In fact, he had to clamp his mouth shut, because he was pretty sure that he had just broken his hand. Every one of the thousands of nerve endings in his fist was sending white hot flashes of pain to his brain, and his knuckles were swelling like balloons. He tried to block out the pain, tried not to let his eyes fill with tears. He concentrated on hating Charlie and tried to figure out a way to save Nix. The rain started falling again, and the wind was moaning louder than ever in the trees.
Charlie pointed to him. “I’m going to save you for last. After I kick your brother’s ass, I’m going to take the Lost Girl and see how she does in a zombie pit without any weapons. That goes for your redheaded friend, too. Think that’ll be fun? Afterward, I’m going to feed you to the zoms, one finger at a time.”
Nix made a lunge at Charlie, but Tom grabbed her shoulder and held her back.
“No, sweetie,” he murmured, “this animal is mine.”
Charlie gave him “a come and get it” gesture with both hands, then called to his men. “What kind of drugs are you taking, Tom? You’re frigging well surrounded and outnumbered. We’re not going to duke it out. This isn’t a fair fight. You’re just going to die. I don’t know how you escaped them zoms back on the highway, but you should never have come back here. Not alone.”
“No,” Tom agreed, “it isn’t a fair fight. And just so you know … I’m not alone.”
Charlie looked momentarily perplexed. A few of the bounty hunters exchanged looks and then everyone turned slowly around. The rain was falling steadily now, but the moaning in the forest had nothing to do with the wind.
The entire camp was surrounded by hundreds of the living dead.
Tom Imura looked at Lilah, and they both smiled.
55