Asking the Living Dead
"What's wrong with the air?" Tom asked.
Molly did his funny squint again. "I reckon you folks ain't lyin' when you says yer lost. These parts 'bout as polluted as my granny's toenails. Why do you think they built dem cities under all this here metal?"
"Why'd you come up here, then?" Hana asked.
Molly paused, his eyes darting back and forth. "I, uh, well, ya see, the thing is . . ." He scratched his beard. "See, I done heard yer little twitter feet up on my ceilin' there, so I came up to do some investigatin'. Yep, that's what I reckon, as far as I recall."
Tom exchanged a baffled look with Hana and Max. It didn't take a genius to realize they'd already caught Molly in his first lie.
"Well," Tom said, "we need a minute to talk about what we're gonna do."
"Go on, then," Molly said. "I ain't got a mind to bother dem there bid'ness and matter, such as it were."
"Huh?" Max asked.