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“I’ll find one,” said Chong, but paused at the door. “Will this Dòmi stuff actually work?”
Flores glanced at Morton, who also paused, and then he nodded. “It will work best if the reanimates are already infected with the paracide.”
“What if regular people breathe it in?” asked Benny.
Morton shook his head. “We just don’t know. Our tests never—”
“—Got that far, right. Got it.” Benny went to a table, took a trowel that was stuck in a pile of the Dòmi-treated manure, and began shoveling it into one of the many bags prepared for that purpose.
“What happens when the reapers get exposed to Wodewose?”
“Probably nothing,” said Morton. “Captain Ledger and young Miss Gomez were exposed and were not turned, so we can assume that it hasn’t mutated into a threat to regular humans.”
“It would drop you,” said Benny.
“We don’t know what it will do to me, or to Mr. Chong or Karen’s daughter. It could drive us mad, or kill us, or do nothing at all.”
Benny raised a heap of stabilizer. “Well, at least we have magic horse poop.…”
Morton ignored that. “We also don’t know what the effects of Dòmi will be on ordinary humans. Or on reanimates who have not yet been exposed to Wodewose.”
“Swell,” said Benny. “But it will stop those wild men… right?”
Morton lo
oked down at his work, avoiding Benny’s eyes.
“Hey—right?”
“Once the reanimates are infected with the paracide,” said Morton slowly, “then even the smallest particle of Dòmi should shut down their aggression… or at least in theory.”
“In theory,” Chong said. “Swell.” He took a breath, then said aloud to himself, “Go get a cart, Lou Chong. Don’t think about all the ways you could die tonight. Nope, don’t do that at all.”
He left. Grimm trotted behind, armor clanking.
Benny looked at Morton. “Okay, be straight with me, Doc. Even though you never did tests, you’re still a scientist. You must have a theory. What’s going to happen if he gets exposed to the paracide or the Dòmi? Just tell me.”
Morton shook his head. “I really don’t know. I know I don’t want to risk exposure. And if you care for your friend, keep him away from it too.”
“How do we do that if you guys find some way of spraying this magic poop all over the wild men? How do I keep Chong safe then?”
“Maybe tie him up. Or…”
“Or what?”
“Or use that sword and end it all for him, Mr. Imura,” said the doctor coldly, his eyes finally meeting Benny’s. “Given what could happen, that might be the greatest kindness.”
There was a rattle in the hall and Chong appeared, pushing a big laundry cart with canvas sides.
“Perfect,” cried Flores, and immediately began grabbing bags of the stabilizer. Despite his injuries, Morton tried to help. It was clearly agony to do it, and for a moment Benny was content to let him suffer. But then he took a heavy bag from Morton and pushed the doctor gently toward the door.
From somewhere outside they heard a man yell in a voice raw with terror.
“They’re inside the walls. Oh God, the wild men are here!”
A chorus of awful howls filled the night.
“We’re out of time,” said Morton.
