99
THEY RAN AND RAN. BOTH of them looking back to see if they’d run far enough. But ea
ch time the killers were closer. The wild men on one flank, the mixed army of reapers and zombies on the other, and, directly behind, the melee where monsters were fighting one another.
Then once, when Gutsy and Benny looked back at the same time, they saw that all their fighting and planning and struggles to survive were for nothing. The mass of conflict had moved so much closer and within it, they could see him.
The Raggedy Man on his throne, pulled by all the dead.
As if he could somehow sense the eyes on him, the king of the dead turned slowly and looked out over the sea of bloodshed, straight at them.
Gutsy and Benny stood on the hill, panting, drained of hope. The others came and joined them. The two dogs sat near their masters, heads lowered, tongues lolling. Sombra whimpered softly. The hill was bare, dusty dirt, and, painted in bright moonlight, they were as visible as black flies on a whitewashed wall. The Raggedy Man slowly raised one arm, extended a crooked finger toward Gutsy, and grinned like the monster he was. Whatever strange connection he had with his army was in full force. Many thousands of them turned away from the commotion, abruptly disregarding the threat of the wild men, and immediately began moving forward. A fierce, dry wind whipped sand at the oncoming tide of death, but the zombies did not pause, did not even blink.
That same wind blew past Gutsy, rifling her clothes, whipping her hair, making the canvas sides of the laundry cart snap and pop. Chong sat down heavily, head sunk between his shoulders. Gutsy looked at him, watching how the freshening breeze stirred his black hair. It was blowing steadily out of the north. She remembered thinking only a few moments ago that it was as if the wind itself had betrayed them and was trying to slow their escape.
And yet…
Impossibly, unexpectedly, Gutsy caught a smell on the wind. Just for a second. It was not of pinyon pines or creosote bushes, nor the stink of blood and fire. This breeze smelled of flowers and spices. It smelled like Mama’s kitchen. There was nothing in that blighted place to account for those smells. Nothing. But Gutsy knew what it was and where it came from. The stiff wind carried it not as a weapon of betrayal, no. It was a gift from someone very far away.
“We need to run,” Morton wheezed, his voice sanded raw by the horrors of the night. Gutsy looked at him—at each of them in turn—and then closed her eyes and turned once more into the wind.
“Mama,” she said. “Oh, Mama, muchas gracias…”
And she smiled.
“She’s lost it,” complained Morton. “Her mind’s snapped. Come on, boys, we need to go right now. Those monsters will be here in five minutes or—”
“The wind,” Gutsy said, cutting him off.
“Wind?” sputtered Benny, frightened and impatient. “Who cares, Guts? We have to…”
Benny’s words died as if the wind had snatched them away. He stared at her, past her to the fires that were already being fanned by the wind. He stared at the struggling wild men, ravagers, reapers, and shamblers. His lips formed words without sound.
A single word. Repeated over and over.
Gutsy nodded and spoke it aloud.
“Dòmi.”
They stared at each other, and now he, too, smiled. The kind of smile only the truly desperate would smile. It matched her own.
“I know that look,” said Chong, looking accusingly at Benny. “You two just had a really, really, really bad idea.”
“Really bad,” agreed Spider, recognizing the smile Gutsy wore.
100
“WE NEED TO GET OUT of here,” Morton yelled, his voice thin and high with terror.
“We need a better vantage point,” murmured Gutsy. Benny tapped her and pointed to a big old billboard a hundred feet up the road. It had the faded face of a smiling man holding up a piece of fried chicken, promising that it was going to be dee-eee-licious. The two of them went over and circled it.
“There’s a ladder over here,” she observed, pointing to a set of rusted metal rungs nearly hidden in shadows.
“Perfect,” said Benny.
“Perfect for what?” Flores demanded. “You think we can hide from them up there? They already saw us.”
Benny pulled Chong to his feet. “Listen, man, you need to get out of here. You and Spider; get Morton and Mr. Flores out of here. Get the research stuff to Site B.”