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"You didn’t do anything wrong," said Benny

The artist sneered "I ran away and left an infant and a little girl in a house surrounded by the living dead I sure as hell didn’t do anything right"

"Could you have carried thele wretched shake of his head

Benny smiled at him "Then at least you tried to do what you could do," he said

"Kid, I appreciate the effort, but that thought doesn’t even get ht"

18

"TALK TO TOM," SAID THE ARTIST AS HE WALKED BENNY TO THE DOOR "If he’s willing to talk about it, then he can tell you the rest of it"

"I will"

"You never did tell h … What’s your interest? You don’t know her What’s she to you?"

Benny was expecting the question but hoping it would slip by unasked He shrugged He took the card from his pocket and held it up so they could both look at the ih the new cards withabout it, soht words, but he caed

However, Sacchetto surprised hiet it, kid She kind of has that effect on people"

Sacchetto opened the door to a bright spill of Septeht was clean and dry and see to a totally different world than the one Sacchetto had talked about They lingered in a moment of aardness, neither of them sure if this was the whole of their relationship or the first chapter of an acquaintanceship that ht last for years

"Sorry it didn’t work out with the job," Sacchetto said with a crooked s zo, I’m still avail--"

"No," Sacchetto interrupted, "I mean, I’m sorry your art kinda sucks You’re a nice kid Easy to talk to Easier to talk to than your brother"

"My art sucks?"

"You can draw," conceded the artist

"I …"

"Just not very well"

"Um … thanks?"

"Would you rather I lie to you, kid?"

"Probably"

"Then you’re Re you around would rinned at each other The artist held out a paint-stained hand, and Benny shook it "I hope you find her"

"I will," said Benny

That got a strange look fro, a voice behind theot there?"

Benny knew the voice, and in the half second before he turned, he saw Sacchetto’s face tighten with fear Benny turned to see Charlie Pink-eye, standing on the street right behind hireasy little s there, young Benjamin?" said Charlie with the slick civility he used when he was setting up a bad joke--or so worse

Benny was suddenly aware of the card It was s as a poster His hand trembled as if the card itself felt exposed and nervous

The massive bounty hunter stepped closer, and his bulk blotted out the sun It eird Benny liked Charlie and the Hammer They were heroes to hi in his head was crooked, as if the furniture was the sa at him, the way shadows see There was nowhere to turn, no way to escape the --but that was not any kind of option

Charlie held out a hand for the card, but Benny’s fingers pressed together to hold it htly It was not a deliberate act of defiance; even in the immediacy of the moment he knew that much It was more an act of …

Of what?

Of protection?

Maybe He just knew that he did not want Charlie Pink-eye to have that card

"It’s just a card," Sacchetto said "Like the ones I did of you and the Hammer I did a couple new ones You know, for extra ration bucks It’s nothing special"

"Nothing special?" said Charlie, his srin on a doll "Let’s see, shall we?" Charlie reached for the card the saht or an invitation born of a long-standing confidence Benny was priers closed over a corner of the card, Benny whipped it away Charlie grabbed nothing but air

"No!" blurted Benny, and he took a reflexive step backward, turning to shield the card with his body

Theleaf in the trees beside the house, even the wind itself--seemed to suddenly freeze in time Charlie’s eyes ide The Hammer and the artist wore identical expressions of complete surprise Benny felt the blood in his veins turn to icy gutter water

"Boy," said Charlie in a quiet voice that no longer held the lie of huive you one second to ain Hand me that card, and you’d better smile and say ‘sir’ when you do"

Charlie did not rab, but the threat behind his words filled the whole street

Benny didn’t ht He flicked a glance at Sacchetto, but the Ha on the top of the black pipe he carried as a club There was no help there

"Now," coe, callused hand, palm open and flat to receive the card A stiff breeze filled with heat and blowing sand suddenly whipped out of the west The card fluttered between Benny’s fingers

"Give hireed the Ha a hand on the artist’s shoulder The tips of his fingers dug wrinkled pits through the fabric of Sacchetto’s shirt