Fire & Ash by Jonathan Maberry

beautiful a relic.
    But Joe laughed. “This sword was made by Hoki Yasutsuna, one of the greatest Japanese sword makers of all time. It’s a superb blade. I’d take it into any battle without hesitation. And it has a name, Dojigiri .”
    “What’s it mean?”
    Joe grinned. “ Dojigiri means ‘Monster cutter.’ Rather appropriate, don’t you think?”
    The sword did not look particularly impressive, withplain black silk bindings on the handle and a speckled cord. However, Nix accepted the sword with wide-eyed reverence.
    “ Dojigiri ,” she repeated, holding it as if it would shatter in her hands. “Monster cutter. This is crazy. This must be worth a fortune.”
    “It’s worth whatever value you place on it, Nix. No one else is looking. The whole value system is a historical footnote.”
    “But . . . this should be in a museum.”
    “Used to be,” said Joe with a smile. “It was a national treasure of Japan and happened to be part of a collection of priceless artifacts on loan to an American museum. Lately, though, the only people visiting museums are zombies and scavengers, so I liberated it along with some other goodies. Not really theft, is it? Besides . . . the sword was made to be used, not to gather dust. I believe Tom was training you kids to be samurai, right? So . . . be samurai.”
    Benny drew his kami katana and showed it to Joe. “I have a good sword too.”
    The ranger gave him a tolerant smile. “Not sure how to break this to you, kid, but your sword is a good-quality modern blade, and definitely reliable in a fight, but it’s not what you’d call a ‘legendary’ sword.”
    Benny was affronted. “This was Tom’s sword.”
    “Sure,” agreed Joe, “and he put it to good use, but the fact remains that they made about ten thousand swords just like that one. Hell, that one isn’t even Tom’s original.”
    “Yes it is!” Benny insisted.
    “No, it’s not. He broke his first sword a few days after First Night. He told me about it. Quite a story, too. And . . . I think he might have had another one after that. I was withhim when he took this baby off one of the skull-riders who—”
    “The who ?” asked Benny and Nix together.
    Joe blinked at them. “The skull-riders? The kill squad out of Reno?” He paused. “Tom never told you about that?”
    “No,” said Benny and Nix at the same time.
    “Didn’t he tell you about the time he and I and a guy named Solomon Jones took down a group of slavers up around Lake Tahoe? Or the time we teamed up with Hector Mexico, Johnny Apache, and the Beatbox Boys and cleared out the reavers who were raiding the trade route between the Nine Towns?”
    “No,” Benny said heavily. “Are you making this stuff up? Tom never said anything about this. He was a bounty hunter, that’s all.”
    “That’s all? Really?” Captain Ledger laughed. “How do you think Tom learned all his tricks? You think he got that good quieting zoms? Get your head out of your butt, kid. While everyone was building the towns and putting up that fence, your brother was riding with some hard-asses out in the Ruin.” He paused, considered, sighed. “But . . . I guess that’s Tom for you. He never was one to brag. Surprised you never asked the other bounty hunters about him.”
    “The only bounty hunters Benny ever listened to were Charlie Pink-eye and the Motor City Hammer,” said Nix.
    “Ah,” said Joe. “Those two. Tom would have done the whole world a favor by putting bullets in their brainpans back when he had the chance. Would have saved the world a lot of grief.” Joe suddenly stiffened and cut a sharp look at Nix, then winced. “Ahhh, jeez, I’m sorry. I forgot about your mom. I’m an idiot.”
    Nix wanted to cry, but she kept her eyes dry. “Benny killed Charlie. I killed Marion Hammer.”
    A slow smile formed on Joe’s face. “Seriously?”
    “Yeah,” said Benny.
    “Holy frog snot. You have got to tell me everything.”
    So they told