45
TOM IMURA WAS UP LONG BEFORE DAWN. HE FIXED A QUICK MEAL FOR himself and Sally, refilled their canteens from a small stream, and was ready to go by the time there was enough light to be able to distinguish shadows from substance.
It took Sally Two-Knives a little longer to climb out of the well of sleep, but after she’d eaten something and had her fill of water, she looked and sounded much better than she had the night before. “You’ll live,” Tom said with gentle humor.
“I’ve actually had worse,” she said, carefully probing the knife wound beneath the bandage. “So have you.”
He shrugged. “Fact of life.”
Sally reached out a hand. “Help me up.”
He did. They were both very careful about it, and Sally micromanaged the process with a lot of curses and complaints until she was on her feet and leaning against one of the rocks that formed their shelter. “Well,” she said, “that was interesting.”
“You shouldn’t be up.”
“Can’t stay here. Besides, my horse is out there somewhere. I find her, I’ll be okay.”
“Riding a horse with a stab wound is—”
“—going to hurt, no kidding. Better than walking.”
“You should try and rest for most of the—”
“Don’t even try, Tom. It’s kind of you to be nice to a lady—if we can suspend disbelief long enough to use that word for me—but you need to go find that boy, and I need to go find your brother and the girls.”
Tom had no argument for that. “Thanks, Sally. Can I do anything for—”
“Get your ass in gear, boy. You’re burning daylight.”
He smiled. It was only barely bright enough to see the path. Tom nodded and was about to step back when Sally grabbed him by the front of the shirt with her good hand and pulled him in for a whopper of a kiss. When she finally pushed him back, he gasped and blinked like a trout on a riverbank.
“Wow!”
“In case I don’t ever see you again, Tom,” she said, giving him a wicked little smile. “I don’t want you to forget me.”
“Um … not a chance. Wow.” He gave her a last smile, turned, and vanished into the forest.
Sally watched him go. In the brief moment between his smile and his departure, as he turned away, she saw the smile fall away from his handsome face to be replaced by the face of the hunter. She repeated what she’d said the night before.
“God help anyone who gets in your way.”
Zom 101
Zom: What just about everyone calls the living dead.
Zom: Nomadic zoms. Ones that walk around but aren’t actually following prey. (Most zoms don’t move unless they are following something.)
Walker: Another name for a Nom, though some people call all zoms walkers.
Sliver: A thin piece of metal with a sharpened tip used to “quiet” a zom. It’s inserted at the base of the skill in order to sever the spinal cord.
Quieting: What people call it when a zom is “killed” permanently.