Jonathan Maberry - Tooth & Nail

“Twilight is a strange time, my girls,” Ida had said. “In daylight you can see things the way they are. At night everything’s a guess, ’cause so many things are hidden by shadows. But twilight is a little of both. It’s real and unreal. You see things, but you can’t be sure of what you see. People used to believe that twilight was when the world of what’s real and what’s unreal creaks open. If you’re not careful, you can step right through into who knows where. Or maybe something from over there can step through.”

Heather had asked, “Something from where?”

And Ida had answered, “From anywhere that isn’t here.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” declared Samantha, who, even when young, was not given to fancy.

Ida gave them all a wink and a knowing smile. “During twilight nothing has to make sense.”

Now it was twilight, and things seemed to have stopped making clear sense. It was like the sharp edges that defined the world during the day had been sanded down to a point where they were indistinct and untrustworthy.

“Listen to me,” said Mike, wincing as pain flashed through him. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” asked Samantha suspiciously.

He shivered with the onset of shock and fever. “If you help me now, tonight… then I’ll make sure nothing ever happens to you and your friends.”

“You can’t make a promise like that.”

He smiled. It was the most human thing about him. Despite the blood and his wounds, despite the strangeness of his eyes and the impossibility of his knowing her name, despite everything that made this encounter seem like something out of a dream, that smile held no trace of threat. None.

“Yes,” he said, “I can make that promise.”

She started to back away.

“Please,” he said.

Please.

In the woods far behind them, they could hear the dead moan as they followed the silent calls of the reapers.

Without realizing that she was going to do it, Samantha turned sideways to him.

“Come on,” she said, “lean on me.”

He hesitated. “Are you sure? You can still walk away.”

She looked down at the ground. His feet were bare, and there was dirt caked under his toenails as if he’d dug them into the ground. His clothes did not look like they’d been cut. They looked like they’d burst apart.

Samantha knew that she should have been terrified. She knew that she should shove this man away from her, that she should run to find her friends and then run farther until this place was far behind her.

She knew that.

And yet.

There was something about this man.

Here was a person who had suffered so much, survived so much, had so much will to live that he risked making promises despite being on the edge of death. And in the woods here were the living dead and those whose purpose was to exterminate all life.

It came down to that choice.

Between the takers of life and a man who clearly fought harder than anyone she had ever met to belong to life.

If it was a strange choice for her to make, then she blamed it on twilight.

Somehow she knew Ida would approve.

She took the big man’s arm and laid it across her shoulders.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll help you.”

Together Samantha and Iron Mike Sweeney made their slow and careful way past evidence of carnage, away from death, toward life.

It took a long time to walk down the mountain.

They didn’t take the goat path. Instead they went a back way that was easier but longer. Fifty feet down that road they came to a spot where two soldiers lay. Both were dressed in the uniforms of the American Nation, the new government that had formed after the destruction of the old world. It was clear that these men had been on guard but had been surprised, overwhelmed and murdered by the reapers. It was equally clear that Captain Ledger had quieted them. Both of them had distinctive knife wounds in the backs of their heads, right at the weak point where the spine enters the skull. What Tom had once called the “sweet spot.”

“I didn’t know there were guards up here,” said Benny.

“Of course there are guards up here,” said Ledger. “There are also a crapload of land mines and you’re lucky you didn’t step on one.”

“The reapers didn’t step on any mines.”

“Not this time,” said the ranger, “but over the years? Yeah, a whole bunch of them have gone into the darkness at high velocity.”

“It’s not funny,” said Benny.

“No,” admitted the ranger, “it’s not.”

Benny considered the two soldiers. “What were their names?”

“Private Andy Beale and Private Huck Somerton.”

“Do they have family?”

“Back home. They’re from Asheville, North Carolina.”

“I’m sorry,” Benny said.

“Yeah,” said Ledger. “But at least we know that the reapers have found a way through our back door. I’ll make sure it’s nailed shut again.”

“Is that worth two people’s lives?”

The ranger shook his head. “No. But we take what we can to save more lives down the road.”

“The reapers… they’ll keep trying, won’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Won’t they ever give up?”

“Not as long as Saint John is driving them.”

“They’re afraid of him,” said Benny.

“It’s worse than that,” said Ledger. “They love him. They really do think he has the answer. They think he’s going to solve all their problems.”

The kept walking. Grimm trotted along behind, his armor clanking. Joe carried the dog’s spiked helmet.

After a while Benny asked, “How’d you know I was up here?”

“I didn’t. But I was looking for you and didn’t find you anywhere else. You didn’t take a quad, and you weren’t in one of the hangars. There’s not too many other places you could be.”

They walked and the sun slid red and swollen into the west.

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry,” said Benny.

“I didn’t think you would.”

They looked at each other. Harshly at first, then with small smiles of acknowledgment. Like chess players.

“Thanks, though,” said Benny.

“Jeez, kid, that sounded like it actually hurt to say.”

“It did. My gums are bleeding.”

Ledger laughed, and the sound of it bounced off the stone walls. They walked for another ten minutes without speaking.

“There’s a war coming,” said Benny at last, “and I’m not ready for it.”

The ranger gave a slow nod of approval.

“It takes a…,” Joe began, but stopped.

“What?” demanded Benny, some sharp edges still evident in his tone. “What were you going to say? That it takes a ‘man’ to make a decision like that? Don’t bother, we both know I’m not a man. I’m a kid, and I’m doing the best I can.”

Captain Ledger gave him a small smile. “No, kid, that’s not what I was going to say. What I was trying to say was that it takes a real warrior to make a decision like that. To accept the world for what it is. To ask for help. That’s what your brother would call being ‘warrior smart’… and that has nothing to do with how old you are.”

He held out a big, tough, calloused hand.

After looking at it for a long moment, Benny took it.

Saint John sat near the glow of a massive campfire. He’d ordered it built big tonight, and there were three times as many guards posted. Most of the reapers were already asleep. Even Brother Marty was dozing.

Saint John sat apart from everyone and stared deep into the chaotic heart of the fire, watching the snakes of flame twist and tangle and writhe.