“You think I’m crazy?”
“I think this plan is crazy,” said Solomon. “But . . . I also think it’s brilliant. Brilliant in a way that hurts my heart, Ben. I can’t even guess what it’s doing to you.”
There was nothing to say to that.
Into the awkward silence, Chong nodded to the red sashes and asked, “What are those?”
Morgie brightened. “It’s for the Freedom Riders. We all wear them.”
“The what?”
Solomon answered that. “After Tom died, all of us who were out at Gameland—Sally Two-Knives, J-Dog and Dr. Skillz, Fluffy McTeague, the whole bunch of us—rode to Mountainside. We told everyone what happened. We found enough stuff in the rubble to prove that Gameland existed and that people from the towns were routinely going there to get in on the fights in the zombie pits. Easy to prove anyway, since a lot of town folks died out there and there was no other explanation for their absence from town. Mayor Kirsch called a meeting of the councils of all Nine Towns. I told the story again, and I brought a copy of the proposal that Tom had prepared.”
“What proposal?” asked Chong.
Benny said, “Tom kept submitting ideas for how to improve the town’s defenses and for creating a militia to patrol the Ruin. Like the town watch, but for outside the fence.”
Morgie tapped his sash. “This time they listened.”
“A militia?”
“We don’t like to use that word,” said Solomon. “It sends the wrong message. The Freedom Riders are officially a peacekeeping force. Two hundred strong, and almost as many in training, like young Mr. Mitchell here.”
“I’m a cadet,” said Morgie, and he actually blushed.
“Two hundred,” said Benny.
Chong said, “Saint John has forty thousand.”
Solomon pursed his lips. “Benny . . . this plan of yours . . . you know it’s crazy, right? I mean, you have enough perspective left to grasp that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” said Benny.
“Then I think you kids better wait here. You roll into town on those bikes, telling stories like this, and all you’re going to do is create a fuss or a panic.”
“But—”
“Let me talk to Mayor Kirsch. Ever since Tom died, he’s had a big change of heart. Him and Captain Strunk. I think I can get them to understand what you want to do and why.”
“They won’t like it worth a wet fart,” observed Morgie.
“Well put,” said Chong, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
Solomon smiled, showing a lot of very white teeth. “I guess I’ll have to be persuasive.”
He swung into the saddle. “You kids take the next turn and go that way two miles. There’s a way station there with food and supplies. Wait for me there. But listen up . . . there have been reports of some wandering zoms in the area. Stay alert.”
“Fast or slow?” asked Nix.
“We only get one kind around here,” said Solomon. “At least so far. Zoms are zoms, though.”
Benny shook his head. “Not anymore.”
Solomon met his gaze and nodded. Then he wheeled his horse around and spurred it into a fast gallop.
When he was gone, Morgie asked, “What, you’re not afraid of zoms anymore?”
“Slow, dumb ones?” mused Chong. “No much. Fast, smart ones? Yup. But you haven’t met the reapers yet, Morg. There are scarier things out there, believe me.”