Broken Lands (Benny Imura 6)

Deeper this time. Louder.

Closer.

The cans rattled once more, and there was a sharp snap as one of the lines of strung wire snapped. The cans thudded to the ground, coughing out their pebbles. Falling silent.

And then the mist changed. It was as if the droplets of water suspended in the fog abruptly coalesced into a physical shape. But it was the wrong shape. Not slender from emaciation. Not upright and shambling.

Not human.

Instead the thing that came slowly toward them was bizarre, brutish, monstrous. It was hunched forward, walking on all fours like an animal. But even with that there was something wrong. The rear legs were too short and the front legs were much too long. It had a massive, shaggy head and huge shoulders. At first Benny thought it was a zom that had been some kind of body builder, with hugely overdeveloped arms and chest and something wrong with its legs. Walking on its knees and hands; or on the stumps of severed calves.

As horrible as that would have been, it would have been better than the creature that finally emerged from the mist. The arms, shoulders, chest, and body were completely covered with dark brown-gray fur. The fur was torn and some hung in ragged strips, revealing gray skin or pale reddish striated muscle. The head was hideous, with a high crown and sloping brow, eyes that burned with hunger and hate, and deadly fangs. It reeked of rotting meat and a totally unnatural vitality.

It was not a person.

It was not anything Benny had ever seen except in a book. Or a nightmare.

It was a full-grown silverback gorilla.

And it was a zombie.

Interlude Six

KICKAPOO CAVERN STATE PARK

ONE WEEK AGO

They talked all through the afternoon and into the evening.

While they talked, Sam cleaned and sutured Joe’s wounds. They were still talking when the morning painted the sky with the first pink colors of dawn. Sam Imura, former sniper and soldier, former special ops killer and survivor of the apocalypse, was no longer alone. He had his old friend and former boss, Captain Joe Ledger. The only guest who had ever visited Sam’s little camp hidden away in the depths of the forest.

Sam had that, which was more than he’d had since coming this far southwest after the world died.

But he had more than that.

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; Sam had a brother.

A half brother. Benny. Sixteen years old. Smart, tough, honest, and brave. An actual hero, who’d helped save the lives of tens of thousands of people in central California. Sam had never met Benny, though he’d seen baby pictures. Sam had always assumed Benny was dead, along with Benny’s mom—Sam’s stepmother—and their dad.

And Tom.

It hurt Sam so much to know that his brothers had survived, but that a killer’s bullet had taken Tom’s life less than a year ago. Tom had died saving children—little ones and teens—from a nightmare called Gameland, where the kids were forced to fight for their lives in zombie pits. Ledger described how Tom had burned down the first Gameland, rescuing many that time; and how he had gone hunting when he learned that two men—Charlie Pink-eye and the Motor City Hammer—had rebuilt it. There had been a terrible battle. Tom had allies—other tough men and women like him—and they fought alongside Benny and his young friends, whom Tom had trained to be a new breed of samurai. Together they’d destroyed Gameland forever.

At the cost of Tom’s life.

When Ledger told him that story, Sam bowed his head and wept. Ledger wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulders and he, too, wept.

Later Joe said, “Straighten me out on the age thing. Benny’s sixteen. Tom died when he was thirty-five. And you’re my age . . . how’s that work?”

“First off,” said Sam, “I’m ten years younger than you. My mother had me when she was eighteen. I was supposed to be an only child, but when I was twenty she had Tom. I always felt more like an uncle than an older brother. Guess it was hard to be close to a kid that much younger. Then Mom died and Dad married someone way younger than himself. Guess it was a midlife crisis thing, dating someone so young. Whatever. They seemed to be in love and I was out of the house by then. Barely knew her, to tell the truth. I guess we had a hard time getting along because we were nearly the same age. Anyway, I was running with Echo Team when they met. Missed their wedding. Missed almost every Christmas. And by the time Benny was born, I was running my own crew . . . and that was when the world fell apart.”

“You’d like Benny,” said Ledger. “He’s a little goofy at times, but he has heart and he has nerve. Real good in a fight. He’s more or less the pack leader of a group of young butt-kickers Tom trained. The new samurai. Little corny, but the training was righteous. And I taught Benny and his friends a few of my dirty tricks.”

He told Sam about the Night Church and the reaper army.

“Night Church, huh?” grunted Sam. “Sounds like something we have going on around here. Not a church, though. I do some trading with people in farms and settlements throughout this part of Texas. There are some rumors that the ravagers are getting organized, turning themselves into an actual army. The Night Army, though I don’t know if that’s what they’re calling themselves or something spooky tagged onto them.”