“Sugarcoat it. If this is the way it is, if I’m going to have to be a part of it, don’t jerk me around. Don’t lie to me.”
Tom set down his cup of coffee and then nodded. “Okay. Most don’t do it this way, because it hurts too much. It’s too …” He fished for a word.
“Real?” Benny suggested.
“I guess so,” said Tom. He tasted the word. “‘Real.’ Yeah … that about says it.”
Benny nodded and ate the last piece of toast.
After a while Tom said, “If you’re going to do this with me—”
“I didn’t say I was. I said ‘if.’”
“So did I. If you’re going to do this with me, then you have to learn how to handle yourself. That means getting in better shape and learning how to fight.”
“Guns?”
“Hand to hand first,” Tom said. “And swords. Wooden swords in the beginning. We’ll start right after school.”
“Okay,” Benny said.
“Okay … what?”
“Okay.”
They didn’t speak again that morning.
When Benny got to the garden gate, he stood looking at it, as if it was a dividing line between who he had been before Tom had taken him out into the Ruin and who he was going to be from now on. For a week he had been unable to open that gate, and even now, his hand trembled a little as he reached for the latch.
It opened without a crash of drums or ominous lightning forking through the clouds. Benny grinned ruefully, then headed down the lane toward Chong’s house.
15
“THE ZOMBIES ARE COMING!”
Morgie Mitchell yelled that at the top of his voice, and everyone ran. Morgie ran side-by-side with Benny and Chong, the three of them blocking the pavement to keep the other kids from getting there first. It was a disaster, though. Zak Matthias deliberately tripped Morgie, who went flying and whose flailing fingers caught the back of Moby’s pants and accidentally pulled them down to his knees.
Moby wore stained drawers, and with his pants around his knees, he couldn’t manage the next step, and he went down. So did Morgie. The crowd of kids hit the pair, who were already on the ground, but they were in motion, and everyone knew there was no hope. They all went down.
Only Benny, Chong, and Zak were still running. Zak was halfway down the block. Benny looked back, hesitated, grabbed Chong by the sleeve, mentally said Screw it, and ran even faster.
In the direction of the zombies.
They were at Lafferty’s General Store. The Zombie Cards had arrived.
“Too bad about Morgie,” said Chong.
“Yeah,” agreed Benny. “Nice kid. He’ll be missed.”
They sat on the top step of the wooden porch in front of Lafferty’s. A shadow fell across them.
“You guys are a couple of total jerks,” said Morgie.
“Eek!” said Chong dryly. “It’s a zom. Quick, run for your life.”
Benny sipped from a bottle of pop and burped eloquently.
Morgie kicked Chong’s foot, hard, and sat on the wooden step between his two friends. He looked at the stack of cards that lay on the step between Chong’s sneakered feet. There was a similar stack—two packs still unopened—in front of Benny. Waxed-paper wrappers were crumpled on the top step.
“The guy said they’re sold out already,” he complained grumpily.
“Yeah. Those darn kids, huh?” murmured Benny.
“He said you two monkey-bangers bought the last couple of packs.”
“Guy’s lying,” said Benny.
Morgie brightened. “What? He has some—?”
“We bought the last twelve packs,” said Chong.
“I kinda hate you guys.”
“He’s going to start crying,” Chong said to Benny in a stage whisper.
“He’s going to embarrass himself,” agreed Benny.
“What he’s going to do,” said Morgie, “is start kicking your asses.”
“Eek,” said Chong through a yawn.
Benny pretended to scratch his ankle, but then he moved his sneaker, and there were four packs of Zombie Cards in a neat stack, the waxed-paper wrappers still sealed. Morgie made a grab for them, ignoring the grins on his friends’ faces.