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“I suppose.”
“To see it, or live there?” she asked, smiling.
“I don’t know either.”
Sombra’s leg twitched in his sleep as if he was running from something. He uttered a small whine. Gutsy stroked his head, and he settled down to a more restful slumber. Like Gutsy, his stitches were out. And also like her, he would wear a scar for the rest of his life.
“Tell you one thing,” said Benny, “there are still a lot of zoms out there. Billions of them. Dr. Morton says that there’s no way to even be sure the ones in other countries are the same. Different mutations, exposure to different chemicals and weather conditions. All that. Could be stuff out there the Wodewose and Dòmi won’t touch.”
“Yeah,” Gutsy said, “but there could be whole communities out there, too. Intact, I mean. People who stayed safe. On islands and mountains. Or people who found their own cures. It’s a big world. Who knows what’s out there?”
Benny nodded. They glanced at each other, their gazes lingering.
“I might want to go take a look,” said Benny.
“Yeah,” said Gutsy. “I was thinking the same thing.”
A cloud passed in front of the sun, for a moment darkening the day, but then it moved on. They watched the shadow move across the field and then vanish into the unknown distance. Like a traveler wandering down a lost road.
