Read Benny Imura 03.5: Tooth & Nail for Free Online

thunder inside.
    He stopped and stared horrified at the spot where the rock had struck.
    The hangar was filled with the sick and dying.
    “Oh . . . jeez . . .”
    The back door opened and a nun stepped out. Sister Hannahlily.
    “Sorry!” yelled Benny, edging away.
    The nun gave Benny a look that could have quieted a whole pack of zoms. He managed to endure it for two full seconds before he turned and fled. He could feel the heat of her disapproval stabbing him in the back like arrows.
    Behind the hangars, foothills of red stone rose in broken walls to which tenacious vines clung. Spiky weeds sprouted up from the clefts. Benny caught movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced up to see a goat picking its way nimbly along a path so narrow that it wasn’t even visible from ground level. The goat threaded its way along the face of the cliff, and Benny kept pace with it, trying to let a pointless and temporary fascination divert him from his own glum thoughts.
    Benny marveled at the goat, wondering how it had gotten here. Sanctuary was so remote and supposedly impossible to find without a guide. And yet here was a goat that was walking with the kind of confidence that suggested it was familiar with these rocks.
    He felt himself frowning and actually had to stop and take mental inventory.
    Why was he reacting that way?
    Was something wrong about this?
    If so . . . what?
    Benny looked around, but there was no one to ask. He didn’t dare go ask one of the monks or nuns, not after the look Sister Hannahlily had given him. And there was no way in the world he was going to ask Captain Ledger. He’d rather kiss a zom than say another word to that jerk.
    No, he decided, he’d find out for himself.
    To satisfy his curiosity, he told himself.
    To figure out why the presence of that goat bothered him so much.
    He adjusted the katana that he wore strapped across his back. Tom’s sword.
    His sword now.
    Benny took a breath, reached for the closest lip of rock, and began to climb.

7
    Rattlesnake Valley
    Southern California
    The four girls kept shifting their desperate stares from the zombies converging on Tiffany, then to Samantha, and back again. For her part, Samantha was working it all out. Distance, speed, the presence of the two dozen strangers, the terrain, everything. She was the leader of their pack because she knew how to work things out. Ida had called it three-dimensional thinking.
    Samantha had to weigh the safety of the remaining girls against the small chance of saving Tiffany, and factor in the personal risk for all six of them. A trap set for one could catch a rescue party as well. All too easily.
    She also had to try to assess what total strangers would do if the girls made a rescue attempt. The people in black and red were clearly alive, and somehow—impossibly, or so it seemed—they’d discovered ways to both control the dead and keep themselves safe from them. Until a few minutes ago Samantha would have thought neither of those things could be done.
    However . . . the evidence was clear and irrefutable; therefore it could be done. Her view of the world needed to change to accept that and work with it.
    “Okay,” she said quickly, an idea forming in her head. “Heather and Laura, I want you to go two hundred yards north. Stay low and stay hidden. Prep arrows and wait for my signal. Go!”
    The two youngest girls, both of whom were superb archers, dropped from the tree, using the trunk to hide them. They melted into the high grass the way they’d been taught. Even Samantha, who was the best hunter in their group, lost sight of them at once.
    “Good. Amanda, you and Michelle go south. Fifty yards will do it. Kindle a fire but use the driest brush you can find. No smoke. Wait for my call and then put wet stuff on the blaze. Soon as you do, leave it and go west. Find that old farm road and head for the barn. Wait as long as you can, but if we don’t catch up in ten minutes, get out of