Free Benny Imura 03.5: Tooth & Nail by Jonathan Maberry Page B

joy.”
    Samantha almost smiled. “Wait, let me get this straight . . . you people believe that we have to die to be saved?”
    “Of course.”
    “And that’s why you’re killing everyone you meet?”
    “We bring the blessings of Saint John of the Knife, the holy minister of our god. With the sacred blades we open the doorways to—”
    “Paradise, right, I got it. But you guys have a weird double standard. You believe in death, but you’re still breathing and running around causing problems.”
    “No,” said the woman, “we remain clothed in flesh only until the full will of god is completed. And then, with joy and songs on our lips, we will open the red mouths in each other’s—”
    “Something’s coming,” said Heather, swinging around to aim her arrow into the woods.
    “Zombies,” said Samantha. “I saw them a minute ago.”
    “We have to go.”
    “I know.”
    The reaper said, “Why not stay and let the gray people send you into the blessed darkness?”
    Samantha shook her head. “Thanks, but I think we’ll pass.”
    She closed her hand around the silver dog whistle that hung around the woman’s neck. “You use this to control the zombies?”
    “Yes. It is a gift from Lord Thanatos, all praise his—”
    “Darkness, right.” With a grunt she yanked the whistle hard enough to snap the chain, looked at it for a moment, then stuffed it into a pocket. “Heather, get the other whistles.”
    The younger girl hesitated, casting a nervous eye at the woods, then nodded and ran to comply.
    “Get those red streamers, too.”
    “They stink!”
    “They smell like death,” said Samantha. “Kind of useful, don’t you think?”
    Heather thought about it for a moment, then gave a small smile of understanding. She drew a knife and began sawing at the tassels on the two dead men. They could hear the zombies thrashing through the brush as they came.
    Time was just about up.
    Samantha looked at the woman.
    “What you’re doing is wrong.”
    “It is the will of god.”
    “Not a chance. No god would want his people to do this much harm. If someone told you that, they were either lying to you or they’re crazy. Either way, what you’re doing is wrong.”
    She removed the edge of the spear blade and stepped back.
    “It is the will of god,” growled the reaper, her smile gone now.
    Samantha shook her head.
    “Go ahead, then,” said the reaper. “Kill me. Use your weapon and open the red doors in my flesh. You’ll see the joy on my face as I cross into the darkness.”
    The zombies were less than a hundred feet way now, and they were closing in from all sides. Heather whimpered softly and restrung her arrow.
    Samantha holstered her spear and drew one of the knives she’d taken from the reaper. The woman smiled again as if in welcome of what she thought was coming. But behind that smile, Samantha thought she detected a flicker of something else.
    Doubt, maybe.
    Or fear.
    With a flash of silver, Samantha crouched and slashed away the red tassels the woman wore, then quickly gathered them up and stuffed them into her pocket. Then she backed away from the reaper. The zombies were entering the small clearing. A circle of them, their gray faces slack, their eyes empty, their mouths working as if biting the air.
    Samantha began backing away, pushing Heather as she did so.
    “You have those tassels?” she asked.
    “Y-yes,” stammered Heather.
    “Then let’s go. No! Don’t run . . . follow me and we walk out of here.”
    The reaper woman looked at them in horror.
    “Wait—you can’t leave me here.”
    “Why not?” asked Samantha.
    “Give me my tassels back.”
    “Not a chance.”
    The zombies were a dozen feet away now, reaching with pale hands.
    “My whistle . . .”
    “No.”
    “But . . . but . . .”
    Samantha could feel the coldness of her own expression. “You said that the dead were here to complete your god’s will. Who am I to interfere?”
    “Please!” begged the