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CHONG TRIED TO FIGHT THE HANDS THAT PULLED HIM FROM THE PIT, BUT his attacker bent close and in a fierce whisper said, “Chong—it’s me.”
Chong stopped struggling. The figure let go of him and moved into a patch of starlight.
“Tom!” Chong began to cry out, but Tom clamped a hand over his mouth.
“Shhhh!”
Chong nodded. “How’d you find me?” he whispered.
Tom quickly explained how he’d left Benny, Nix, and Lilah back at the way station, and about his encounter with Sally Two-Knives.
“I—I’m … Tom, I’m so sorry—”
“Save it. This is a lot more my fault than yours, kiddo. Even so,” Tom said, tapping him hard in the chest, “do not let it happen again. From here on out you follow orders exactly as given, understand?”
“Absolutely loud and clear.”
The sounds of laughter and applause, the screams and jeers, were much louder. The noise was coming from behind the place, past the line of close-parked wagons. There were a few small zombie pits out here, but Tom suspected the real attraction was over there.
“Benny and Nix are here somewhere,” Tom said, “and I have a bad feeling about where they are.”
As if to counterpoint his comment, the crowd erupted into furious applause.
“What are we going to do?”
“First things first,” said Tom. “You look pretty banged up. Are you all right?”
When Chong took too long to answer Tom pulled him into a patch of light that was screened by hedges.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
Chong turned and showed him his shoulder. “I was bitten.”
Tom closed his eyes for a moment and sagged back against the edge of the porch. “Ah … kid … damn it …”
“In the pit. They made me fight. I won … both times, but I got bit.”
“How long ago was this?”
“I don’t know. Five, six hours. I can’t really tell.”
Tom gave him a puzzled frown. “How are you feeling? Have you been vomiting? Any double vision? Pain in your joints?”
“Just a little dizzy and nauseous.”
Tom looked at the bite again. “You should be showing symptoms by now.”
“H-how long do you think I have?”
“I don’t know,” said Tom. “It’s different for everyone.”
Chong knew that was true. Some people got sick right away; others took as long as a day before they felt it. In the end it was going to be the same. The plague had a 100 percent infection rate. No one ever survived it.
From behind the building they could hear Preacher Jack making a speech.
“Have you seen other prisoners?” asked Tom.
Chong shook his head. “No, but I heard people talking about them. There’s supposed to be a bunch of other kids here. In the hotel, I think.”
