"Oh?" The man's intent look curled with amusement. "Why is that?"
"It's not a trick."
"Then what is it?"
"An ability."
Bloodless lips moved upward still further. "'An ability'?" he echoed mockingly. "A talent, a sleight, an anatomical quirk..." The look turned sly, with eyes flickering down to Danny's ribcadge. "A mutation?"
Danny put a hand over the rips in the cloth, blocking the bullet holes from view. "Can we talk about something else?"
"Something else? Sure. What about your parents? Did they have this 'ability' too?"
"That's not changing the subject!"
He smiled innocently. "You're trying too hard to be evasive. It only makes me all the more curious."
"Yeah, well," Danny mumbled. "You're not so evasive yourself, you know."
The smile acquired a cheshire-like quality. "So I'm not. But I'm a Grave Robber, kid. 'Subtlety' isn't exactly high on the job description."
"It should be, if you want to live long!" Danny glared at him, seizing on that point. "Seriously, what was with that? Prancing around in broad daylight in a graveyard full of trigger-happy goons? That's just asking to be shot!"
"Clearly I was." His eyes tracked down again. Danny could almost feel the wind rush out from his accusing look, and he looked away. Seconds passed, and when it became clear that Danny wasn't going to reply, the man broke the silence.
"Where are you going, again?"
"Home." Danny's eyes darted.
"You'd best be getting there soon."
"Yeah, I-uh... why?"
Dark-ringed eyes lingered on him again. "You're clean. You're untouched. And who knows..." The man's voice deepened, as mulling the words over as he said them. "Perhaps an ability like that might follow your organs."
Danny curled in on himself a little, wrapping his free arm around his belly. "It wouldn't! Um-probably wouldn't. I mean-geeze, do you have any idea how creepy you sound?"
"And you, so innocent. You're pure."
"I've said it before, but I'll say it again. Can we PLEASE stop talking about me?"
The man watched him for a moment longer, before tilting his head, looking mildly away.
"Thanks," Danny mumbled.
They rode in silence for a few long moments. Eventually, Danny moved his hand from his belly to his face.
"What's with this smell? I keep thinking I'll get used to it any minute, but it just gets worse."
"Zydrate. Rot. Flesh lingers, kept around by Zydrate's cling."
"What do you mean, 'flesh lingers'?" The man rested another look on the boy, and Danny squirmed as his eyes narrowed. "Actually, forget I asked."
"You know you only dig your grave deeper when you clam up, right?"
"Nevermind!" Danny insisted. The man gave him a smirk, and Danny fought the urge to just hop off the truck's edge and strike out on his own. After all-graves got robbed all the time.