Fire & Ash by Jonathan Maberry Page A

him about the murder of Nix’s mother and the horrors of that incident.
    “I knew her, you know,” said Joe sadly. “Jessie was one classy lady. Gorgeous, too. You have her eyes, Nix. And her toughness. I know she’d be proud.”
    Now tears rolled down Nix’s cheeks, but her voice didn’t break as they continued the story. When they got to the end, Joe clapped Benny resoundingly on the shoulder and kissed Nix on the forehead. “That’s sweet! That’s the cat’s ass. You killed Charlie with the Hammer’s own pipe, and then you killed him again in the zombie pits. Oh man, now that’s legendary.”
    Nix wiped away her tears. “It didn’t feel legendary at the time. It was scary and weird.”
    “Sure, but then all real adventures are scary and weird,” said Joe. “Believe me . . . I know.”
    They returned to training, but Benny was clearly angry. Nix could understand why. Joe made a point of evaluating everything they’d learned from Tom, and frequently suggested some modifications. A couple of times that day Benny balked at changes in technique suggested by the ranger.
    “That’s not how Tom did it.”
    Joe’s reply to each comment was a shrug. “Do it whatever way will keep you alive.”
    But Joe’s advice had pushed too many of Benny’s buttons.“Hey, man, stop acting like you know more than Tom.”
    Joe smiled. It was a tolerant smile, but his patience clearly didn’t go too many layers deep. “Listen to me, kid. I’m offering you the chance to learn some extra skills and about the nature of warfare. You want to learn this stuff, fine. You don’t want to learn it, also fine. But understand two things about Tom. First, he was a very, very talented amateur, but he was an amateur. He was one day out of the police academy when First Night happened. He’d never served in the military. Most of what he learned about combat he picked up during the fourteen years he worked as a bounty hunter and closure specialist. And he learned a lot from me. Now . . . from what I saw when he ran with my pack, and from what I’ve heard since, Tom became seriously good. Good enough to spank Charlie Pink-eye and his crew, and tough enough so that Preacher Jack had to shoot him in the back rather than risk fighting him one-on-one. That says a lot. Tom was the kind of guy I’d want at my back in any situation. But here’s the flip side of that. Before First Night—for a lot of years before First Night—I was the top shooter in a group that hired only top shooters. I was fighting monsters, bad guys, and terrorists before Tom was even born. Grasp that for a minute, kid. I’m not saying this to brag. This is a perspective check. I’ve been fighting this war in one way or another for more than forty years. Even before First Night I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. Stuff that would have you screaming into your pillow every night. I led combat teams into firefights on every continent, and I’ve killed more people than you ever met. With hands, guns, knives, and once with a paperback book. You think I’m trying to bust on your brother by correctingthe way you swing a sword? Kid, if I wanted to humiliate him or you, I’d take that sword away from you and break it over my knee. But as it turns out, I happen to respect what you and Nix can do, and I respect what Tom taught you, and I respect Tom as a fallen brother-in-arms. I respect all of that so much that I want to make sure it doesn’t go to waste just because you have too much pride and ego to take some constructive criticism. So if you want to stop arguing with everything I say, then I’ll teach you every dirty trick I can so you stay alive.”
    Benny glared up at him for a very long time. Finally, when his voice was under control, he said, “That’s one thing. You said there were two. What’s the other? Was there something else you wanted to say about my brother?”
    Joe gave Benny the coldest smile Nix had ever seen on a human face.
    “Yes,”