“I know this sounds gross, but why don’t you just go house to house and do it to every one of them? You know … quiet them. Release them.”
“Because a lot of the people here have family living in our town. It takes a while, but people usually get to the point where they want someone to go and do this the way I do it rather than as part of a general sweep. With respect, with words read to their dead family, and then let the dead rest in their own homes. Closure isn’t closure until someone’s ready to close the door. Do you understand what I mean?”
Benny nodded.
“Do you have a picture of the … um … people in there? So we know who they are? So we can make sure.”
“There are pictures inside. Besides … I know the names of everyone in Sunset Hollow. I come here a lot. I was the one who went house to house and tied the dead up. Some monks helped, but I knew everyone here.” Tom walked to the front door. “Are you ready?”
Benny looked at Tom and then at the door.
“You want me to do this, don’t you?”
Tom looked sad. “I want us to do it.”
“If I do my part … then I’ll be like you. I’ll be doing this kind of thing.”
“Yes.”
“Forever?”
“I don’t know, Benny. I told you that I think I’m done with this too. But I don’t know if that’s true. Besides, we don’t know the future, remember?”
“What if I can’t?”
“If you can’t, I’ll do it. Then we go to the way station for tonight and head home in the morning. After that … maybe you and Nix and I will talk about going east. That jet had to land somewhere.”
“Tom, I know I’ve asked this already, but why don’t people from town come out to places like this and just take them back? We’re so much stronger than the zoms. This place is protected. Why don’t we take everything back?”
Tom shook his head. “I ask myself that every day. They think they’re safe in town.”
“That’s not true. Ask Mr. Sacchetto. Ask Nix’s mom. It’s stupid.”
“Yes,” Tom said, “it surely is.”
He turned the doorknob and opened the door. “Are you coming?”
Benny came as far as the front step. “It’s not safe in there, either, is it?”
“It’s not safe anywhere, Benny. Not unless your generation makes it safe. My generation gave up trying.”
They were both aware in that moment they were having a different discussion than the words they exchanged.
The brothers went into the house.
Tom led the way down a hall and into a spacious living room that had once been light and airy. Now it was pale and filled with dust. The wallpaper had faded, and there were animal tracks on the floor. There was a cold fireplace and a mantel filled with picture frames. The pictures were of a family. Mother and father. A smiling son in a uniform. A baby in a blue blanket. Two women who might have been twin sisters. Brothers and cousins and grandparents. Everyone was smiling. Benny stood looking at the pictures for a long time and then reached up and took one down. A wedding picture.
“Where are they?” he asked softly.
“In here,” said Tom.
Still holding the picture, Benny followed Tom through a dining room and into a kitchen. The windows were open and the yard was filled with trees. Two straight-backed chairs sat in front of the window and in the chairs were two withered zombies. Both of them turned their heads toward the sound of footsteps. Their jaws were tied shut with silken cord. The man was dressed in the tatters of an old blue police uniform; the woman wore a tailored frilly white party dress whose sleeves were dark with blood that had dried years ago. Benny came around front and looked from them to the wedding picture and back again.
“It’s hard to tell.”
“Not when you get used to it,” said Tom. “The shape of the ears, the height of the cheekbones, the angle of the jaw, the distance between the nose and upper lip. Those things won’t change even after years.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Benny said again.