“He’s alive,” grumbled Nix. B

enny started to say something, thought better of it, and gave her an encouraging nod.

“Something could have happened to the, um, wires,” said Morgie, who Benny knew did not really understand how satellite phones worked.

“They had satellite phones and they had radios,” countered Riot. “We ain’t heard nothing.”

“Maybe we have,” said Nix. “We’ve been gone almost a week now—for all we know there’s been a hundred calls from Asheville.”

“Really?” said Riot. She nodded to Benny. “Why don’t you ask your boyfriend if there’s been a call?”

Everyone turned to Benny.

“What is she talking about?” demanded Lilah.

“Yes,” said Nix coldly, “what is she talking about?”

Benny glared at Riot, then got up, threaded his way through the wires to his quad, opened the saddlebag, removed a black object, and brought it back. He showed them what it was. A satellite phone, and the small green power light was lit.

“I saw it when I was looking for the fuel line to get his bike going,” said Riot.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Chong.

Benny sat down with a heavy sigh. “I wanted to. I snuck into the mayor’s office while you guys were sleeping and stole it. I . . . I guess I was hoping to be able to spring some good news on everyone. At first I didn’t say anything because we were stuck in the prison. Then, after we left, I rode point so I could use the earpiece to check it when you guys couldn’t see.”

“Why?” asked Nix. She did not look happy. “Why hide it?”

“Because the other night, when I was standing guard, I heard some chatter from home. Solomon Jones made a general call. One of those conference-call things where a lot of people listen in at once?” The others nodded. “He was talking about maybe sending an expedition east because there hasn’t been any word at all from Asheville. Nothing.”

For a long time, the only sound in the world seemed to be crickets and cicadas and the lonely call of some night bird. Then Chong bent forward, put his face in his hands, and began to weep.

57

THEY HUDDLED AROUND CHONG FOR a long time. Offering comfort, telling him that the factory making his drug was going to be there, that it would endure. That there was some other reason for the silence from Asheville.

It was a pack of lies. They all knew it. Even Chong knew it. Sometimes lies are the only mercy, the only kindness people have to offer. Benny knew that. When Tom died, the others did as much for him. They told him that it’s all going to be okay. Lies.

Kindly meant. They were shields, they were warm blankets in the cold wind of reality. The speakers of those lies needed to hear themselves say them as much as Chong or Benny or anyone in the stranglehold of pain needed to hear them.

As Benny sat with his arms around Nix and Lilah, who hugged Chong, he realized this with a kind of clarity that would be impossible in the absence of experience.

The night was a big, violent bully that pushed at them, shoved them, gave them no real peace, and only the tight clutch of a half-dozen teenagers kept it from winning. They huddled together for more than warmth.

And so the tears, the terror, and the night passed.

58

THE MORNING WAS COLD AND damp, with a thick mist cover that transformed the forest into a dreamscape painted in shades of green and gray. Insects buzzed but were invisible inside the haze.

Benny had taken a late watch, turning in just before dawn, but sleep had eluded him and he lay with his eyes closed and his curled back pressed against Nix’s. He heard her moan and turned to see her twitch, lost in a dream of something ugly. When he leaned over, he could see that there were deep lines in her face that formed a grimace of fear and pain. He knew she was not in actual physical distress, but remembered pain always feels real in dreams; and Nix had felt so much hurt. Physical, mental, and emotional. He heard her murmur a word. A name.

“Mom . . .”

Benny closed his eyes and felt the old ache tear itself open, because he knew what she was dreaming about. Her mother’s murder. The loss. All of that.

He bent and kissed her head very gently. Her body froze for a moment and then the lines on her face softened, her shudders subsided. Not all the way, but some.

Enough.

Tags: Jonathan Maberry Benny Imura
Source: readsnovelonline.net