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BENNY IMURA WAS APPALLED TO LEARN THAT THE APOCALYPSE CAME with homework.
“Why do we have to study this stuff?” he demanded. “We already know what happened. People started turning into zoms, the zoms ate just about everyone, everyone who dies becomes a zom, so the moral of this tale is: Try not to die.”
Across the kitchen table, his brother, Tom, stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Are you deliberately trying to be an idiot, or is it a natural gift?”
“I’m serious. We know what happened.”
“Really? Then how come you spent most of last summer complaining that no one my age tells anyone your age the truth about the living dead?”
“Telling us is one thing. Essays and pop quizzes are a whole different thing.”
“Because heaven forbid you should have to remember anything we told you.”
Benny raised his eyebrows mysteriously and tapped his temple. “I have it all right here in the vast storehouse of knowledge that is me.”
“Okay, boy genius, then what started the plague?”
“Easy one,” Benny said. “Nobody knows.”
“What are the leading theories?”
Benny jabbed his fork into a big piece of buttered yam, shoved it into his mouth, and chewed noisily as he spoke. It was a move calculated to annoy Tom in three separate ways. Tom hated when he spoke with his mouth full. He hated it when Benny chewed with his mouth open. And it would muffle most of what he said, which meant that Tom had to pay even more attention to the yam-packed mouth from which the muffled words came.
“Radiation, virus, bioweapon, toxic waste, solar flares, act of God.”
He rattled it off so there was no break between the words. Also annoying, and worth at least another point on Benny’s personal Annoy-O-Meter.
Tom sipped his tea and said nothing, but he gave Benny the look.
Benny sighed and swallowed. “Okay,” he said, “at first people thought it was radiation from a satellite.”
“Space probe,” corrected Tom.
“Whatever. But that doesn’t make sense, because one satellite—”
“Space probe.”
“—wouldn’t carry enough radioactive material to spread over the entire world.”
“We think.”
“Sure,” conceded Benny, “but in science class they told us even if one of the old nuclear power plants did a whatchamacallit, t
