Broken Lands (Benny Imura 6)

“New Alamo?” echoed Nix. “Wasn’t everyone at the old Alamo killed in a war?”

“Look, mister, we’re not from here,” Benny said gently. “We’re just traveling through.”

The confusion lingered. “Traveling from where? To where?”

Benny glanced at Nix, who shrugged and then nodded. “We live in central California,” said Benny.

The man gave a weak shake of his head. “No way. California’s gone. They nuked it and that set off earthquakes. It fell into the sea.”

“No,” said Chong, “that’s not true. They dropped bombs on some of the cities—Los Angeles, San Diego, San Francisco, a few other places—but it didn’t cause earthquakes, as far as I know. We live in the mountains in Mariposa County, in the Sierra Nevadas.”

“There’s nowhere else,” mumbled the soldier. “We killed the world. All that’s left is New Alamo.”

“Listen to me,” said Benny, leaning close. “You’re wrong. There are nine towns in California. Thirty thousand people. And a lot more in Asheville, in North Carolina. There’s even a government. We’re coming back. The world’s coming back.”

Blood ran like tears from the man’s lacerated face. “I heard those stories,” he wheezed. “About Asheville. It’s not true. There’s nothing there but the dead.”

“We’re heading there now,” said Benny, choosing not to tell him about the fact that the capital of the American Nation might be as dead as this man thought it was. “But first, where’s this New Alamo town? We’ll take you there. Do they have doctors there?”

The man laughed. Actually laughed. “Doctors? Yeah, kid . . . they have lots of doctors.” His laugh turned into a coughing fit that left his lips flecked with fresh blood.

“Who are these men?” asked Lilah gruffly. “They’re zoms or half-zoms?”

“I . . . don’t know what that means,” gasped the man. His voice was fading and the glaze was returning to his eyes. “They’re ravagers. They’re . . . infected. These three . . . they were part of a pack of five. Scouting party. I . . . got one. Infected gorilla got another.”

“We met the gorilla,” said Chong. “It’s dead.”

The man blinked in surprise, then attempted a smile. “Tough kids.”

“Tough times,” said Benny.

“Tougher than you know,” said the man.

“Why did these men hurt you?” prompted Nix. “You said these ravagers were scouts? Scouts for who?”

“For the . . . Night Army . . .”

“What’s that?” asked Chong.

The man was weakening, fading, but he managed to tell them a horror story. At first Benny thought he was raving and delirious, but the more the man spoke, the more convinced Benny became of the reality of an army of infected killers backed by hordes of shamblers—which Benny took to mean the R1 zoms. He said that there was a man who was able to control all the dead. The soldier called him the Raggedy Man, but Benny was half-sure the guy was losing it, becoming delirious.

Then the soldier coughed again and this time the fit did not seem to want to end. He convulsed and thrashed and vomited blood onto the grass, then settled back, eyes glassy and skin gone yellow-gray. “Please,” he said in a faint whisper, “the ravager scouts wanted to know the hidden way . . . in. To the base, I mean. There are tunnels. Tunnels into town, too. If the ravagers find the tunnels and the weapons, everyone is going to die. My friends at the base . . . the doctors . . . everyone in New Alamo.”

Another coughing fit, worse than the others. Terrible to see. He was weeping when it was over.

“Please . . . you need . . . to warn them. The town. The council. They think help . . . will come.” He shook his head. “They don’t know what’s really coming. Please, don’t waste time . . . on me. I’m no good. I’m nothing. I’m a Rat Catcher. I was part . . . of it. I know I’m going . . . to hell.”

“No, don’t say that,” soothed Nix, but the man gave a single violent shake of his head.

“It’s funny,” said the soldier bitterly, “but we believed them. The doctors. The captain. We believed every lie. They told us we were trying to save the world. They lied. We . . . lied.” His hand caught Benny’s wrist with surprising strength. “The people . . . the people in town. Please . . . tell them to run . . . while they still can. No help is coming. The only chance they have is to run. Maybe it’s no chance at all. But . . . it’s all they have. Tell them the Night Army is coming. . . .”

“We’ll tell them,” promised Benny. “Where’s the town?”

“Close,” he said, and his voice was noticeably weaker now. “Go straight northeast from here, you can’t miss it. Big walls made from stacked cars. The Night . . . Army may already . . . be there. But listen,” he wheezed, “there’s a . . . way . . . in.”

Benny bent closer still. “Tell me.”

The man spoke for as long as he could and Benny listened. Nix and Chong leaned in, but they could not hear anything. And then Benny couldn’t hear anything else. He straightened and looked down at the soldier, and saw that he was gone. Benny sighed and quieted the man.