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The moans of the dead floated on the breeze.
“Do you know what God did?” said Rags. “He told everyone that they weren’t allowed to kill Cain. He made it a sin to do that. And he put a mark on Cain so that everyone would know who he was. They’d know, and they’d have to let him live. I never understood that story before.” Rags let go of the chain. “Now I think maybe I do.”
She reached out and touched the skull tattoo on Mama Rat’s chest.
“Anyone who looks at you can see the same mark.”
Mama Rat touched the tattoo as well, and for a brief moment their fingers touched. Something passed between them, like a static shock. Rags felt it, and she knew that Mama Rat did too.
“We’re supposed to survive this, you know,” said Rags, stepping back. “This plague, all this disease and stuff. We’re supposed to survive it.”
“How . . . how do you know that?”
Rags thought about it, then shrugged and shook her head.
“Because we’re still alive. That has to mean something.”
“What if it doesn’t mean anything?” asked Mama Rat, clutching the locket to her breast. “What if none of this means anything?”
Rags shrugged again. “No. What if it does?”
With that she turned away. The dead were coming closer.
Captain Ledger and Tom stepped back and glanced at each other. Then they turned away too. The dogs were the last to leave.
The two men, the girl, and the two big dogs walked together along the street. Away from the dead, and away from the eight monsters who stood together near their pile of discarded weapons.
10
That night they camped on the top floor of an office building. Tom stayed with Rags while Ledger and the dogs cleared the building, checking for the dead. When it was clear, they went up to the fifth floor and found an office that had two couches and big windows. They made a cooking fire in a metal trash can, and Ledger produced cans of Spam from his pack. They ate in silence. In fact, none of them had spoken a word since they’d left Mama Rat.
When they were done eating, they sat on the couches and watched the sunset. Bones laid his big head on Rags’s lap. Baskerville, free of his spiked and bladed armor, crawled under a big desk and began snoring.
It was Tom who broke the silence. “What you did back there?” he began, his voice soft. “What you said? That was very brave.”
“Brave?” said Rags, surprised.
“Oh yeah,” agreed Ledger. “You’re something else, kid.”
Rags shrugged.
“Want to tell us about your family?” asked Tom.
She shook her head.
They nodded.
The sun set and the stars came out. With no lights in the city, there were ten billion jewels in the nighttime sky. They sat and watched them and said nothing.
Finally Tom said, “Do you want to come with us? There’s a small town out near Yosemite. It’s an old reservoir, but we’re building a fence and planting some crops. We have about a thousand people now. More coming in all the time. You’d be welcome. You’d be safe.”
Instead of answering, Rags asked, “What do you think she’ll do?”
“Mama Rat?” asked Ledger. Then he shrugged. “I know you’d like to believe that she and her crew are going to have a change of heart and devote the rest of their lives to good works. But . . .”
He let the rest hang.
“If she hurts another kid,” said Rags, “is that on me? Will that be my fault?”
