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He sniffed and took a breath.
“Jessie had my heart, Lilah. And . . . when she died, I think that part of me died with her.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone else. Not like that.”
“In books,” Lilah protested, “people heal. They get over it.”
“Other people, maybe,” Tom said. “But—those books were written before First Night.”
It was the last thing he said about it. Lilah stayed for a cup of coffee, but they sat at the table and looked at things inside their own heads and said nothing to each other. Her coffee was cold and untouched when she left the house, and they never spoke of it again.
Somewhere, somehow, during the long weeks after that conversation with Tom, Lilah’s heart changed. She let go of her desire for Tom, though in a different way she loved him more than ever. She always would.
Now Tom was dead.
She walked on along the stream, pushing herself to focus on her mission.
However, she wondered if, now that Tom was gone too, there was someplace where he and Mrs. Riley were together again. Lilah’s understanding of her own spiritual beliefs was largely unformed, but she wanted Tom and Jessie Riley to be together. Tom had earned that.
If that could be true, then maybe there was a place where George and Annie were together. He’d be lying under a tree, peeling an apple, and she’d be laughing as she chased butterflies in a sunlit field where there were no living dead and no evil men.
It was why Lilah did not fear death. So many of the people she loved were waiting for her there.
Lilah kept walking along the muddy bank of the stream, but she slowed and then stopped completely. The path ahead of her was invisible now. It was not hidden by shadows, and it had not petered out as loose soil gave way to hard rock. No, it was simply that Lilah couldn’t see a thing through the hot tears that boiled from her eyes and burned their way down her cheeks.
15
BENNY AND CHONG STOOD AT THE EDGE OF THE RAVINE. MORE THAN AN hour had passed since Lilah had gone looking for Eve’s family, and half an hour since Benny’s inexplicable fight with Nix. Now Nix sat sleeping against the tree with Eve in her arms. Benny did not tell Chong about the argument. He was still trying to figure a way to explain it to himself and so far had made no headway at all.
Benny sighed.
“Something wrong?” asked Chong, distractedly peeling a fig while staring into the ravine.
What could possibly be wrong? wondered Benny sourly. I either think I’m hearing voices or I’m actually being haunted. And I got so depressed down in the ravine that I almost gave up fighting for my own life. How’s that for “wrong”?
“Tell me something, O mighty sage,” Benny said at length. “Do you ever have too many thoughts in your head?”
Chong started to say something funny and biting, but stopped himself and studied Benny for a slow three-count. He turned back to study the faces of the dead.
After a long time he said, “All the time, man. All the darn time.”
They were silent for many long minutes before either of them spoke again.
“Earlier . . . you said you saw a woman?” asked Chong. “What was that about?”
Benny told him. And about how she appeared to blow on a silent whistle, and how the zoms did not attack her. By the time he was finished, Chong had a half smile on his face.
Benny sighed. “Go on, say it.”
“You are monkey-bat crazy.”
“Thanks.”
“A whistle?”
“Yeah.”
“Like . . . what? A dog whistle?”
Benny grunted. He hadn’t considered that possibility. Mr. Lafferty, who owned the general store, had a dog whistle. You couldn’t hear that sound either.
