“We need to move fast for the first half mile,” cautioned Tom, and he broke into a jog-trot that was fast enough to get them out of scent range but slow enough for Benny to match.
A few of the zombies staggered after them, but the fence runners banged on the drums again, and the zombies, incapable of holding on to more than one reaction at a time, turned back toward the noise. The Imura brothers vanished into the shadows under the trees.
When they finally slowed to a walk, Benny was sweating. It was a hot start to what would be a scorcher of a day. The air was thick with mosquitoes and flies, and the trees were alive with the sound of chattering birds. Far above them the sun was a white hole in the sky.
“We’re not being followed,” Tom said.
“Who said we were?”
“Well … ever since we left you keep looking back toward the fence line. ”
“No, I don’t. ”
“Or are you looking to see if any of your friends came to see you off? Other than Chong, I mean. Maybe a certain red-haired girl?”
Benny stared at him. “You are completely delusional. ”
“You’re going to tell me that you don’t have a thing for Nix Riley?”
“A world of no. ”
“How come I found a sheet of paper with her name written on it maybe a million times?”
“Must have been Morgie’s. ”
“It was your handwriting. ”
“Then I guess I was practicing my penmanship. What is it with you? I told you, I don’t have a thing for Nix. Let it go. ”
Tom turned away without another word, but Benny caught his smile. He cursed under his breath for the next mile.
“How far are we going?” Benny asked.
“Far. But don’t worry, there are way stations where we can crash if we don’t make it back
tonight. ”
Benny looked at him as if he’d just suggested they set themselves on fire and go swimming in gasoline. “Wait—You’re saying we could be out all night?”
“Sure. You know I’m out there for days at a time. You’re going to have to do what I do. Besides, except for some wanderers, most of the dead in this area have long since been cleaned out. Every week I have to go farther away. ”
“Don’t they just come to you?”
Tom shook his head. “There are wanderers—what the fence guards call ‘noms,’ short for ‘nomadic zombies’—but most don’t travel. You’ll see. ”
The forest was old but surprisingly lush in the late August heat. Tom found fruit trees, and they ate their fill of sweet pears as they walked. Benny began filling his pockets with them, but Tom shook his head.
“They’re heavy and they’ll slow you. Besides, I picked a route that’ll take us through what used to be farm country. Lots of fruit growing wild. Some vegetables, too. Wild beans and such. ”
Benny looked at the fruit in his hand, sighed, and let them fall.
“How come nobody comes out here to farm this stuff?” he asked.
“People are scared. ”
“Why? There’s got to be forty guys working the fence. ”
“No, it’s not the dead that scare them. People in town don’t trust anything out here. They think there’s a disease infesting everything. Food, the livestock that have run wild over the last fourteen years—everything. ”