Morgie was a few steps slower to the plate than Chong. He snatched the card out of Benny’s hand. “Mmm, nice rack. Almost as big as Nix’s. ”
Benny’s hand moved so fast that it surprised everyone. One second his fingers were open and empty, and the next they were knotted in the front of Morgie’s shirt.
“Give it back,” Benny said in a voice that was more like Tom’s. Older, uncompromising. Hard.
Morgie wore half a smile for half a second, then he saw the look in Benny’s eyes and surprise—tinged with fear and a spoonful of hurt—blossomed in his eyes.
“I … I mean … sure, man,” he said, tripping over the words. “Sure … I was just …”
Benny took the card from between Morgie’s fingers. It was bent but not creased, and Benny smoothed it on his thigh.
“I’m sorry,” Morgie said, completely confused by what had just happened. Benny looked at him without seeing him, then leaned over to peer at the card. Morgie started to say something else, but Chong—out of Benny’s line of sight—gave a tiny shake of his head.
A shadow fell over them, and they looked up to see Zak standing on the top step, staring down at the card. He grunted once, mumbled something unintelligible as he shoved his own cards into his pocket, then clumped down the stairs and headed home.
They ignored him. To Benny, Chong said, “Who is she?”
Benny just shook his head.
“Read the back. ”
Benny turned it over and slowly read the small block of printed text.
“‘Chase Card number 3: The Lost Girl. Legends persist about a beautiful girl living wild and alone in the Rot and Ruin. Many have tried to find her, but none have. And some never returned. Who is … the Lost Girl?’”
“Doesn’t tell you much,” said Chong.
Morgie grunted. “Charlie Matthias said she’s just a myth. ”
Benny’s head whipped around. “You’ve heard of her?”
“Sure. Everyone’s heard of her. ”
“I haven’t,” said Benny.
“I haven’t,” said Chong.
“Do you guys even live in the same town as me?” said Morgie with exasperation. “We heard about her years ago. Little girl with snow-white hair, hiding out in the Ruin, eating bugs and stuff. Completely wild. Can’t speak English or nothing. What’d you call it? Feral?”
Benny shook his head, but Chong said, “Yeah … that’s ringing a faint bell. ” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Back in the Scouts. Mr. Feeney told us about her. We were, like, nine or something. It was that weekend we all camped out in Lashner’s Field. ”
“I was sick,” said Benny. “I had the flu, remember?”
“Riiight,” said Chong slowly.
“What’d Feeney say about her?”
“Nothing much. He told a spooky story about people trapped in a farmhouse with zoms all around. Everyone died, but the ghost of the youngest daughter keeps haunting the hills, looking for her folks. ”
“Uh-uh,” said Morgie, “that wasn’t how it went. The people in the farmhouse kept going out, one by one, to try and get help, but no one ever came back until only the little girl was left. She’s supposed to still be there. ”
“I heard she died,” insisted Chong.
“Not according to Mr. Feeney,” said Morgie.
“I remember that she was a ghost. Everybody died in the story I heard. ”
“Everybody dies in every story,” said Morgie.