Horde

Quest

I left without looking back.

This wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary to leave our loved ones under siege to fetch help for Salvation. The decision hurt my heart too; my foster mother’s face would haunt me, so wounded and brave, older than I’d known a woman could become yet remain strong and vital. She glimmered like a promise of hope that my flame needn’t flicker and burn out before I had a chance to live. Once I’d thought old meant twenty-five, but my time in Salvation had changed my perceptions. Now it was strange to imagine I might not be entering the middle of my life.

Into the dark I quickened my steps, eyes sharp for Freaks prowling beyond normal perimeters. Behind us, I heard them shrieking challenges to the men guarding the walls. Rifles cracked out when they rushed, but I couldn’t turn, no matter how much I wished otherwise. My course was fixed by the shadowy line traced on the priceless map secured in the leather folio in my pack. Before we’d left, I had studied it with complete focus, memorizing each twist and turn of the route, each handwritten note left by Longshot about good game-hunting or fresh water. It was two days to Soldier’s Pond, two more back, once we mustered the necessary reinforcements. That dot on the parchment represented the best hope of saving the people who had taught me so much about life, that it could be more than just hunting and killing.

Momma Oaks. Edmund.

I couldn’t let myself think of them or I’d falter. Instead I pressed on, silent and wary, listening to the Freaks behind us. With a glance over my shoulder, I reassured myself that Fade was still at my back. Tegan and Stalker walked on either flank, she with her lopsided gait and unshakable loyalty, he with his curved knives in his hands and his eyes fixed on the horizon, though he couldn’t see what lay ahead as well as I could.

That came with being the night girl. Reflexively I adjusted my pack, reassured by the weight of the book that had traveled with us all the way from the ruins. Maybe I didn’t need it, but it had become my talisman, every bit as much as the tattered playing card sewn into a hidden pocket inside my shirt. Edmund had explained that my token from down below was part of a fifty-two-piece set, and it was a low card. That seemed fitting, as it served to keep me humble.

“See anything?” Tegan asked.

“Just some night-prowling animals. The enemy’s behind us.”

“I know,” she said softly.

The grass crisped under our feet, liberally sprinkled with early fallen fronds. It wasn’t yet turning time, when all the leaves changed colors and dropped from the branches, but there were always a few to crackle as we went. We ran all through the night with periodic breaks for rest and water while I checked the maps by the moonlight shining overhead. By the time the sun crept over the horizon in delicate whorls of rose and amber, I was exhausted—and disgusted with my own weakness. Down below Fade and I had run a much more dangerous route in faster time, but we had to account for Tegan’s slower strides too. Though the girl was all heart, her leg couldn’t carry her indefinitely at the same pace that the rest of us set, and she was limping now, brackets of pain beside her mouth. I didn’t make the mistake of noting it out loud, however.

“Time to make camp.” I signaled for Stalker to scout the perimeter, and it was a measure of how much he’d changed that he didn’t balk at the order, merely set off to do as I’d asked.

As I laid out my blankets, Fade asked, “No fire?”

I shook my head. “The sun will be up soon. We won’t need it.”

Tegan added, “We’ll smell them coming if any of those behind us get close.”

I nodded at that. This reminded me an awful lot of when we’d wandered the wilderness with only stories handed down by Fade’s sire. At least this time we have maps, a route to follow. I wouldn’t call it a road, exactly, but I spotted faint lines where Longshot’s wagon—along with others, I was sure—had passed back and forth often enough to reassure me I was still navigating the proper course.

As I handed around the meat, bread, and cheese Momma Oaks had packed, Stalker returned. “The general area’s clear, though I don’t like the way it smells to the east.”

“Are we being followed?” I asked.

I ate in economical bites, sufficient to keep me going, but not make it difficult to rest on an over-full stomach. The others did the same, experienced with balancing the need to stay strong against the wisdom of conserving our resources. After tonight, the meat would be gone, but the bread and cheese should stretch all the way to the end of our journey.

Soberly, Stalker nodded. “We should expect an attack while we’re sleeping … and hope it’s not more than we can handle.”

I swore quietly, the worst word I’d learned during the summer patrols. “I’d hoped they didn’t spot us coming out of the tunnel.”

“I don’t think they did,” Fade put in. Out here, he was more his old self, quiet and alert, less of the bleak despair. “I suspect they can smell us just as easily we do them.”

Of course. The minute he said it, I remembered—and recognized the truth. The Freaks didn’t need to see us emerge; the minute we stepped into the wind, we entered their territory. Like any predator, they noticed such incursions and would take steps to eliminate the threat. If we were lucky, it was only a small hunting party, not a significant portion of the horde. Though maybe that would help Salvation if a large number gave chase—we could lead them away from the town toward Soldier’s Pond. The settlers there wouldn’t thank us for it, but they might believe the threat was real faster.

“How’s that possible?” Tegan demanded, looking offended.

“They’re animals,” Stalker answered. “They have keen senses like a wolf too, and they notice anything that doesn’t match the Freak stench.”

“That’s how I was able to—” I cut myself off before I said rescue Fade, knowing it would be hard for him to hear.

Too soon. Deep down, I wanted him to appreciate what I’d done, what I’d risked for him, because there weren’t any limits on how far I’d go for my boy. But his black eyes flashed; he knew even if I didn’t speak the words out loud. With a sinking heart, I watched him turn away to lay his bedroll with exaggerated care.

“Able to what?” Tegan asked.

Stalker replied for me with unexpected tact. “Sneak past some Freaks. Deuce rubbed herself with their parts—blood and worse stuff—until she reeked. They didn’t notice her, though most of them were sleeping.”

Some was a massive understatement. That was our first sight of the horde, sufficient to slay everyone in Salvation, and then sweep onward to pillage any surviving settlements. The memory swept over me, Freaks awful and staggering in their numbers, and armed with fire they’d stolen from our outpost. I battened down my alarm, knowing I wouldn’t do the townsfolk any good if I panicked.

“That’s ingenious,” Tegan decided. “And disgusting.” She cocked her head, thoughtful. “Does that mean they don’t see particularly well?”

“I have no idea.” To the best of my knowledge, nobody had ever studied the Freaks. Anyone who got near one chose to dispatch it instead, for obvious reasons.

“I’d like to find out,” she murmured.

While I wished Tegan luck in her quest for knowledge, I preferred killing them. “It was dark … and like he said, most were asleep. I wouldn’t count on them having impaired vision.”

Stalker sat down opposite me, his icy gaze layered. The kiss he’d given me the night before felt like a weight, one I needed to displace before I could be worthy of Fade, who would hate it even more when I told him that I’d kissed Stalker freely in order to get him to promise to run back to Salvation to warn them if Fade and I didn’t make it back.

At this point, however, we had more important things to worry about, so I set those matters aside, as Stalker said, “I’ll take first watch.”

“Second,” I murmured.

The others claimed third and fourth respectively, which would grant us all a decent amount of sleep. Fade handed his timepiece to Stalker to make it easier to tell when the two hours were up; once Fade and Tegan would’ve argued at Stalker guarding the encampment alone, but both of them merely rolled up in their blankets as the sun rose higher. I was tired, so I dropped off immediately, and I dreamed of Salvation burning while Momma Oaks wept, and Silk, the lead Huntress down below, shouted at me that I was a Breeder, not a Huntress. Jolting awake, I rolled out of my blankets onto the sun-warmed grass and lay squinting up at the blue sky threaded with white wisps. Clouds, they were called. Supposedly, this was where rain came from.

Not realizing anyone else was awake, I wondered aloud, “Of all the people in the enclave, why couldn’t I keep Thimble in my head? Or Stone?”

My friends from the enclave might not have kept me from making the long walk, but I had fond memories of them. Thimble used to make us things even before she was officially a Builder, while Stone protected us both. I wished I could dream about them instead of Silk, who had put fear into everyone under her command.

“I don’t know,” Stalker answered. “But I think about this one cub all the time. He followed me everywhere. But he didn’t have the heart to take power. He died young.”

“What was his name?”

“Rule,” he said. “Because he always followed them.”

It sounded like the Wolves’ naming traditions had been similar to ours, though they focused on a personal trait, not a naming gift. Quietly, I said as much, and Stalker nodded.

“The leader christened our cubs. At eight winters, we earned our names.”

“How?” It was odd to think they had traditions other than capturing trespassers and stealing girls from other gangs, but by the way his face tightened, he didn’t want to talk about it, so I added, “Never mind. You should get some rest.”

“Thanks. It was all quiet.” He handed me Fade’s watch as he rolled into his blankets.

I pushed into a cross-legged position and served as sentry while the others slept. As I had done down below, I entertained myself with studying Fade, but the activity had more meaning now that I’d stroked his hair and kissed his mouth. The ache those memories roused in me were fierce as a rainstorm, thunder booming in my heart. With sheer discipline I looked away from the curled crescents of his lashes and the quiet curve of his lips. Those hours passed with only the quiet chatter of birds and the scramble of small creatures in the undergrowth. We had chosen a shaded spot, beneath a stand of trees, where the grass was soft and the light filtered through the foliage overhead to dappled green.

I was sleepy again by the time I woke Fade, but I was still alert enough not to do it by shaking him. Instead, I knelt beside him and whispered, “Your watch.”

He roused instantly, one hand on his knife. “Anything?”

“No trouble so far.”

“Good. Stalker’s right, though. They’re hunting us.”

“I know.”

I had been prey often enough that I recognized the prickling feel of enemies nearby. Unfortunately until the wind shifted just right, it was impossible to know how far away the Freaks were. We had to rest while we could and then press on. Fighting wasn’t our top priority; our mission was to summon help, and I couldn’t contemplate the cost of failure. If necessary, we’d take evasive action and head for Soldier’s Pond even faster.

“I don’t like our chances,” Fade said.

“Of surviving the run or summoning help?”

He shrugged, unwilling to articulate his doubts. Deliberately I moved over beside him. I set my hand beside his in the grass. He knew—he had to know—that if things were different, I’d lace my fingers through his. But he didn’t want that, couldn’t stand that, and I read the awareness of my gesture in his altered posture. Fade straightened his fingers beside mine, and for a few seconds, I felt every blade of grass on my palm as if they were his fingertips.

“I hope I prove of some use,” he said then.

“You’re here. That’s enough.” I hesitated and decided there might not be a better moment—and I couldn’t continue without telling him. So in a quiet rush, I explained what was bothering me about the good-bye kiss I’d given Stalker in the woods and the one he took by surprise the night before, and how those moments conflicted with the promise I’d made Fade regarding exclusive kissing rights. I felt like I’d broken faith with him, but I didn’t regret bringing him back safe.

His expression went flat, his eyes dark as night-kissed water. “I don’t understand why you’re telling me this. You can do whatever you like. I already said, we aren’t…” He trailed off and shrugged, as if I already knew what he meant.

Worse, I did. He was talking about the termination of everything we had been together, but if Fade thought we could just go back to being hunting partners, like we had been down below, before I understood anything about feelings or the way he held my heart in his hands without touching me, then he was purely mistaken. I clenched my teeth against an angry spate of words. Though Tegan had counseled patience, sometimes it was hard.

He went on in a quietly aching tone, “So it doesn’t matter what you did to get me back. By then, it was already too late.”

“It’s not,” I said. “I won’t let it be. But you deserve absolute honesty. What happened with Stalker wasn’t something I asked for, but I’d do anything for you, and that’s a fact.”

“Some things,” he whispered, “you just shouldn’t.”

I didn’t ask if he meant his rescue or the deal with Stalker that involved kissing. I couldn’t resist pushing, just a little. “So it won’t bother you if I find someone else?”

His jaw clenched, and I saw the muscle move before he got it under control. “I thought you said you’d fight for me.”

“And you said it’s too late.” I offered him a faint smile along with his watch. “So it’s a good thing I don’t intend to listen to you.”

The soft sigh puffed out of him in relief before he could stop it. That was all the confirmation I needed. At least in this regard, I couldn’t take Fade’s word at face value. His mouth was saying things his heart didn’t mean, out of pain and darker feelings that would probably cut me in two. At last I followed Tegan’s advice about not pushing him too far, and I shifted back to my bedroll without further conversation. I didn’t turn my back when I drifted off to sleep, either. Let him look at me, if he wants to. In fact, I hoped he did, and that he felt one fraction of what I did. It might bring him back to me sooner. Just as in this desperate quest, I was running blind and hoping that the journey ended with Fade beside me.

When next I woke, the world was a blur of snarls and yellow fangs.

Combat

By the angle of the sun as I rolled to my feet, it wasn’t quite noon, but the Freaks had found us. There were nine monsters, strong and well fed, so this wouldn’t be as easy as it had been before. Good thing my companions were all awake and preparing for a fight.

Stalker snapped at Tegan, “Get behind me.”

My blades slipped into my palms and I lunged at the four encircling Fade. I caught the first off guard with a slash to the torso, opening a gash in its hide. I noticed these lacked the festering sores of other Freaks I’d encountered. Their skin was sleek but tough, if mottled, gray. The stained fangs were the same, however, as were the razor-taloned hands slicing toward me. I spun to the side, ending the maneuver with a dual downward strike. My left knife nicked the creature’s arm, but neither wound was fatal. Bleeding and furious, the thing snarled at me, a challenge in its strangely human eyes. The irises were crystal clear, a stunning amber-yellow, with the sclera white by comparison. I had the unmistakable sense it saw me as a thinking person, not just meat, and yet it still meant to kill me. The realization stunned me, but not enough to keep me from dodging the next hit as another wheeled to face me.

Stalker dropped one of his with an efficient spike into the throat, leaving three. Fade had the next kill, gutting the Freak on the right from chest to groin. Entrails tumbled out in a meaty splatter, staining the grass at our feet. Another keened in grief—that awful, discordant cry that affirmed that the Freaks felt, that they suffered loss—and it went at Fade with a ferocity I found astonishing. It was furious, not just hungry. These behaved so differently from the mindless ones we’d fought down below.

I swiveled beneath the slashing claws and sank both my blades into the Freak’s abdomen, then I pulled the knives sideways with all my strength. That was a killshot. The monster went down as the next one lunged at me. I blocked the strike, but took a rake of claws across my forearm in doing so; this Freak was strong, enough that I felt the impact down in my bones. I had to learn a new way to fight them since they didn’t die as fast anymore. This was actual combat, not the havoc I once wreaked. Fade cried out as one of them sank claws into his shoulder and used the hold to reel him forward for a fatal bite. To my surprise, Tegan brought up my rifle from where she stood in the trees. I was none too sure of her aim, but the shot boomed out, opening the monster’s chest and dropping the one who had Fade. I lifted my chin at her in thanks, then I whirled into motion, my strikes faster, faster.

Tegan shot another as I finished my second. Then I moved to help Stalker, who had two left on him. I stabbed one low in the spine, paralyzing it, then Stalker’s lightning slashes finished the creature. I worked with him to bring down the last as Fade dropped another.

Finally, we had nine corpses and a bloody stink, while Tegan trembled, cradling the rifle to her chest. “I did it. I was afraid I’d shoot Fade but nobody else was close enough.”

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“They’re different,” Tegan said, staring down at the bodies. “Not just in physical appearance but in their habits, too. Did you notice they’re not wearing rags anymore? These Muties actually made clothes.”

She was right. They had poorly tanned skins fashioned into rough armor. But their oddities didn’t change our mission.

“We have to move,” I said. “Pack your gear. The rifle can be heard a long way off in open country, so I hope you all got enough rest. You’ll need it. We’ll tend wounds later.”

In minutes, we had our blankets rolled and stowed in our packs. I handed around some bread for us to chew on the move, then I checked the maps and our route. Stalker helped me orient to the path and we set out at a run while I wondered how long it would take for more Freaks to track the rifle shots. I didn’t doubt we could hold our own against most scouting parties, but each fight delayed and weakened us. Both Fade and I were injured; if we took more wounds, the trip to Soldier’s Pond might take even longer.

Salvation doesn’t have much time.

My feet pounded the earth, sending up a spray of dust behind me. “I think we should push to reach Soldier’s Pond tonight.”

“I can,” Tegan said, “if that’s what you’re asking. My leg’s fine.”

It had been, and I was glad she wasn’t defensive about it. We had to be realistic about our capabilities. “Good. You’re surprisingly handy with my rifle. Keep it.”

She flushed with pleasure, or it could be running in the heat of the day, which had warmed up with the sun. Light blazed forth, hurting my eyes, and I wondered whether I would ever get fully accustomed to it.

My forearm burned but it wasn’t enough to slow me down. Fade wouldn’t thank me for questioning his strength, so I didn’t ask about the bloodstained patch on his shoulder. Still, he was moving well, keeping up, so he couldn’t be in too much pain. I’d check on him later, provided he let me.

That was a long, grim day with only basic stops for sanitary functions and to gulp some water or swallow a handful of cheese. By nightfall, Tegan’s face was white with exhaustion and pain she wouldn’t acknowledge, but she didn’t ask any quarter. According to Longshot’s notes, this was a bruising trip, much longer than two days by wagon. But he had to care for the mules and let them rest, plus he was towing trade goods whereas we moved as fast as humans could.

The moon was high by the time I spied our destination across the plain. I didn’t know what I had been expecting, but this wasn’t it. From what I could see, this was nothing like Salvation, and a fearful sensation crawled up my back. I stopped, breathing hard, and when I did, exhaustion rushed in like a drowning wave, weakening my limbs to water.

“It looks like the ruins,” Stalker said.

I nodded. “Only it’s not completely destroyed.”

This was an old-world town, but they had cordoned off the heart of it with metal fencing, embankments, and ditches. There were lights too, different from the ones that burned down below or even in Salvation. These were odd and fixed, not fire at all, but more like magic from the stories Edmund told of long ago.

“Have you ever seen anything like that?” I asked.

Both Stalker and Fade shook their heads, but Tegan was studying the glimmer with a fascinated frown. “Not since I was a little girl. We had some in the greenhouse at the university that filled up with light from lying in the sun. Those look a little like that, only bigger.”

“I didn’t know old things like that still worked,” Stalker said. “We scavenged items sometimes but we couldn’t figure out how to operate them, except the tins.”

“That’s because you’re savages,” she said.

“We were,” he agreed quietly.

“How late is it?” I asked Fade.

He checked his watch. “Nearly midnight.”

I sighed. “We don’t have a choice. This isn’t the right time to make our appeal, but waiting won’t help, either. Let’s go.”

Though the perimeter looked deserted, I didn’t trust my eyes. My senses told me we were being watched. So I picked an easily tracked path across the field, waiting for a warning or a voice asking me to state my business. Neither came, right up until I set foot on the metal ramp that led down into the pocked street, similar here to what it had been in Gotham. I could see where the citizens of Soldier’s Pond had tried to keep the surface smooth, filling holes with packed mud and dirt, but it didn’t seal well enough to hide the damage, even at night.

“Which are you,” an unseen male called, “itinerant or tourist?”

I had no idea what either of those words meant. After glancing at Tegan, who shrugged—apparently she didn’t either—I answered, “We’re messengers, carrying word from Salvation.”

“Why didn’t they send Longshot?” the man asked.

I relaxed a fraction. If I wasn’t mistaken, his tone contained a certain fondness, born of camaraderie and nights spent swapping stories. “I’m sorry. Longshot died in the last battle.”

“I think you’d better come in.” Something clanged, and a moving shadow showed me the security measure that would’ve crushed us had we taken another step down the ramp. “It’s clear for you to cross. Hurry now.”

Not wanting to inconvenience our host, I ran, and the others followed me. Behind us, the heavy weight went back up in cadence with grunting men who hauled it into place. Six of them stepped into the light afterward, led by the man I knew instinctively had invited us into Soldier’s Pond. They all wore dusty green clothing, patched more than once, and they held themselves like warriors with shoulders back, spines straight, and their chins inviting trouble. All of them were pretty close to Edmund’s age with silver growing among the bristles on their jaws. They all wore weapons on their hips, similar to the rifle, only smaller, and long-handled knives on their thighs.

“You said you have word from Salvation and Longshot couldn’t carry it. There’s been trouble?”

“An incredible amount,” I said honestly. “I mean no disrespect … but are you the elder?” That was what they’d called the leader in Salvation, and what we called Whitewall down below.

“That’s an old word for it … and, no, as it happens, I’m not. I won’t make you tell the story twice. Davies, you’re head watchman while I’m gone. I’ll take our guests to see the colonel.”

One of the men nodded as our escort led us through the warren. This was old-world construction, patched and shored to retain functionality. We didn’t have the means to build like this anymore, however. The size and shape of the structures was uncannily similar, one house after another stamped out with complete precision.

“It’s eerie,” Fade said beside me.

“More like a child’s model than a real town,” I agreed softly.

“This way. I’m Morgan. If we have to wake the colonel, I can’t guarantee how well your news will be received.” His tone held an odd, amused note that I couldn’t interpret.

I didn’t expect it would be glad tidings, so that hardly mattered, but the leader’s reaction could determine whether we succeeded. Morgan led us to a large building with a long front porch; there were lights affixed all over the top of it, which made me think it was some kind of headquarters. Inside, it bore out that initial impression with tables and chairs littered with papers, some of which had yellowed with age, others appearing to be recently manufactured. I could tell the new sheets came from Salvation, as they carried its imprint in the form of a tree thrice encircled. So among other things, Soldier’s Pond relied on Salvation for stationery, which was a fancy word for paper, according to Momma Oaks.

Candles burned, the wax crackling down into saucers, and there were a few lamps unfamiliar to me. They gave off an unpleasant smell as they burned, the flame flickering inside the glass like a trapped firefly. There were chairs too, where a few tired, worried-looking men were sprawled. I wondered which one was the colonel—and what a colonel was. It must be a title, similar to Elder Bigwater, since he wasn’t actually the oldest man in Salvation, unlike down below. Maybe he played a role like the Wordkeeper’s, consulting on important matters. But none of my speculations proved to be right when the colonel turned around; I could tell this was the person we sought by the way Morgan approached, and I smiled, both pleased and chagrined.

I let Salvation change the way I see the world. This never occurred to me.

It should have. Both Copper and Silk had played powerful roles down below. This woman was younger than Momma Oaks, but not quite as young as Ruth, Rex’s wife. I didn’t know how old that made her, but compared with the men around her, she seemed young. She wore her dark hair up in a complicated twist, and her clothes were crisp, despite the late hour. Likewise, her eyes were dark, ringed in faint shadows that said she hadn’t slept much recently. Sharp features lent her an aspect of intelligence; we’d find out whether that was true once we spoke.

“Report, Morgan.” Her tone was brisk but not impolite. In my time in Salvation I’d come to note the difference. Yet her eyes held warmth that belied her words. “What’s the latest word in the territories?”

I figured she must mean all the lands described on Longshot’s maps. Somehow I resisted the temptation to see if that word appeared anywhere on his papers. Instead I fixed my attention politely on Morgan, who was saying, “They come from Salvation, bearing news. I thought it best to bring them to you at once, Colonel Park.”

“I imagine it’s nothing good, but speak,” the colonel said.

There was nothing for it but to lay out the problem. “Salvation is under siege … and Longshot died in the first onslaught. I’m sorry to carry such bad tidings if you were fond of him, as I was.” I pushed past the lump in my throat, the fresh awareness that I’d never again hear his rasp of a voice or see his eyes crinkle as he smiled. “The town’s surrounded and the Freaks—Muties, I mean—are armed with fire. We don’t have the manpower to fight. So Elder Bigwater sent us to request reinforcements, and you’re the nearest settlement.”

Given my experience with people in positions of authority, I expected Colonel Park to say I was crazy and that I should eat some soup, then go to bed. Once again, I was wrong. Nothing in my experience prepared me for her reaction. She slammed a hand down on the nearest table, knocking over some pencils in a cup, scattering papers on the floor.

“I told you,” she snapped at the men looking on with dawning horror.

Reinforcements

“You knew about Salvation?” Stalker asked, seeming incredulous.

The colonel shook her head. “I noticed a difference in Mutie attack patterns around here. Then they all moved off. I said it meant they must be planning something, but my advisors thought I was being an alarmist.”

So not only did she believe us, she’d foreseen the progression. This would save us a lot of time begging and trying to convince somebody who didn’t believe the world could change. Some of the tension left me, though none of the exhaustion. I was conscious that every moment I spent talking was one that Salvation lost, and I remembered the men on the walls, gray-faced with fatigue and firing gamely on, even as Smith fought to keep up with their ammo usage. Without Stalker’s help, that might prove beyond his powers. We had to get back right away.

“Then you can probably imagine how things are,” I said. “How soon can you send some men with us?”

A man with a mustache spoke for the first time. “We can’t just send our standing forces off on a whim.”

“It’s not a whim,” Tegan snapped.

Another advisor agreed: “Saving Salvation might mean losing Soldier’s Pond.”

“This could be what the Muties want. How do we know their gambit in Salvation isn’t a diversion? The minute we weaken our entrenched position, they’ll attack,” the last councilor predicted.

“They’ll come for you eventually,” Fade muttered.

“Enough.” The colonel infused her tone with cold finality.

“Have you made a decision?” I asked.

She sighed, looking tired. “Unfortunately, it’s not up to me. Something this significant must be put to a vote.”

“Then call an emergency meeting,” Tegan suggested.

I agreed with her. We couldn’t afford to let people sleep. The colonel considered, then nodded at Morgan. “Go wake up the rest of the council. Get them here in the next half hour. These four need an answer, either way. I suspect you’ll be returning home to fight, regardless of the result.” She addressed the final statement to us.

“Yes, ma’am.” Fade had internalized lessons about respectful modes of address faster than I did.

She put a hand on my shoulder. I was glad she didn’t choose Fade for this gesture, as it wouldn’t end well. “Are you hungry? The least I can do is feed you while you wait.”

“That would be welcome,” Stalker answered.

Colonel Park turned to one of her advisors. “Get something warm for them to eat. There should still be soup on the hearth in the mess.”

Within minutes, we all had hearty stew and bread to clean the bowls with. I perched on a chair at the edge of the room, and the others followed suit. It was quiet while we ate, then shortly thereafter, five more people stumbled into the room, three men, two women, which gave equal power to both genders. I was pleased to see that parity, even as I finished my meal.

“What’s the meaning of this?” a gray-haired man demanded.

Succinctly, the colonel summarized what I’d told her, then she added, “We need to vote at once as to whether we’re sending aid.”

A round, motherly-looking woman with fine blond hair put her fingers to her mouth in alarm. “If the Muties have organized, it won’t be long before they march on us.”

“My thoughts exactly,” the colonel said.

They debated for a while. With a full stomach and an aching heart, I didn’t attend to the proceedings. It only mattered what they decided, not how they came to consensus. Tegan slipped up beside me, looking determined. Wordless, she indicated my wound and I offered my arm for her to treat. I bit back a curse as the cleansing liquid trickled over the scratches, deep runnels across the top of my arm, adding a counterpoint to the healed scars on my inner forearms, courtesy of the enclave. I was proud of those six scars still, though maybe I shouldn’t be.

When she was finished, she smeared salve on me and bandaged the injury with quiet efficiency. Then she whispered, “Fade won’t let me treat him.”

“Let me try.” Once, he’d permitted me to do so. I didn’t know whether he would, now.

Tegan handed me her supplies and I crept over to where Fade sat, propped against the wall. The ongoing debate washed over me, bits of argument about the viability of offering support to a settlement with whom they had no such defensive accord, only trade agreements. Then the counter-argument came, mostly about how if Salvation fell, Soldier’s Pond would be next. I stopped listening again as I stilled. Fade opened his eyes, dark and wary in the candlelight. The flickering shadows painted his face hollow beneath his cheekbones.

“Your shoulder will fester if it’s not cleaned and wrapped,” I said softly.

His flinch was nearly imperceptible, then he pushed out a breath. “I’d prefer you to do it.”

Happiness sang inside me. He still trusted me more than anyone else, whatever his other problems might be. “Then brace. It will sting, but I’ll make it fast.”

And I did. Much as I would’ve liked to touch him more, I kept our contact quick and impersonal. He hissed when the antiseptic ran into the punctures, but he didn’t move other than to curl his fists. He shut his eyes, his throat working, not against the pain, I didn’t think. By the time I finished, he wore a sheen of cold sweat on his brow.

“Did it hurt that much?” I asked.

“No.” His fists came to rest on his thighs and he wouldn’t look at me. “When you touch me—when anyone touches me—I’m back there, in the pens. I feel it all over again.”

“We’ll work out a way to fix it,” I promised.

“How? This is why I told you we can’t be together. I wasn’t strong enough to keep them from taking me and I’m not strong enough to shake this off. I can’t—”

“You can,” I cut in. “Maybe not today or tomorrow. But Tegan’s doing better. She said you need time … and I have it to offer. I promise we’ll figure it out.”

As his head swung my way, his dark eyes burned into me. “Why?”

“Because I love you.” It was easy to say it this time now that I understood what it meant. Then I quoted his own words back to him. “Not just when it’s easy. All the time.”

“No more deals with Stalker?” That told me he still cared; despite the pain, his feelings for me hadn’t changed.

“He won’t touch me again. Whatever’s at stake, I’ll find another way.”

“If you had any idea how much I want to hold you—”

“I’m not going anywhere, Fade. You’re my partner. I choose you. I always will.”

After that, I simply sat beside him, listening to him breathe. It wasn’t enough, but it was more than he’d let me do before. Step by step, he would let me back in. My eyes closed and I tipped my head back against the wall. Stalker jostled me eventually—and by the angle of the light, a few hours had passed. They must’ve talked until nearly dawn.

The colonel finally said, “No more discussion. It’s time to vote.”

“Seconded,” said the gray-haired man.

“All in favor of sending reinforcements, say aye and raise your hand.”

The result came down in our favor, four to two. I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes in relief; until this moment, I hadn’t realized how worried I was that we’d fail. Fortunately Colonel Park paid attention to the world she lived in and was willing to accept change even when it didn’t mean good things for her town. I wished the elders in the enclave had been more like her.

But it still wasn’t as fast as I would’ve liked because then they had to debate how many men they could afford to send without critically crippling Soldier’s Pond. The endless talking was making me antsy, so I rolled into my blankets and went to sleep. I figured somebody would nudge me awake when it was time to move. This time there were no nightmares at least.

By the way my body felt, it couldn’t have been more than an hour before Tegan touched my shoulder. “It’s settled. We’re taking fifty soldiers back to Salvation.”

For the number of Freaks we faced, it wasn’t nearly enough, but I couldn’t complain when they were endangering their own citizens to help us. Shoving the hair out of my face, I rolled to my feet and collected my belongings. Everyone else was assembling outside. Fade and Stalker stood on opposite sides of the yard, and I didn’t think I was imagining the narrow stare Fade offered the other boy. Though he’d claimed he didn’t care what I did or with who, obviously that wasn’t true.

Morgan stood at the head of the men given to our cause. In the dawn light, I saw that he had long dark hair, lightly sprinkled with silver, but his face didn’t look as old as I’d first thought. He had lines at the corners of his eyes, but they came from humor, I thought, or sunshine, not the endless march of years. His mouth turned up at the edges as if he found it difficult not to smile, an expression echoed by the warm gray of his eyes; they were like smoke, warm and changeable.

Right now, he was giving orders to his men. “Infantry in good condition can cover thirty to forty miles a day on foot. We have to move at least that fast in order to prove of any help to Salvation. If any among you thinks he can’t sustain that pace for whatever reason, speak now.”

“I’ve got a bum foot,” a man said. “Broke it a few years back and it didn’t heal right. I’d only slow you down.”

“Thanks for your honesty.” Morgan turned to someone I took for his second in command.

The big, burly man responded by calling out another name, and a new soldier took the dismissed one’s place in the formation. Unlike the guard in Salvation, these men were well trained. I could tell by their body language that they had drilled together extensively and fought real battles beyond the walls. Many of them had Freak scars, claw marks on faces or forearms, visible badges of their courage and skill. Touched by her valor and willingness to risk trouble for our sakes, I strode over to the colonel.

“I can’t thank you enough, sir. You don’t know what this means for us.”

“God grant it’s sufficient,” she said, “but it’s all we can do. Otherwise we’ll be too weak to defend, should the Muties turn their ambitions west.”

It’ll happen, I thought.

But it wasn’t the time for dire proclamations. Soon thereafter, we moved out, passing from Soldier’s Pond in a concerted lockstep. I’d never traveled with such a large group before, topside or down below. It seemed risky, but there was no avoiding it. We’d slaughter any scouting parties we encountered, unless the horde itself was rolling west. Letting my feet join their cadence was easy, but to my surprise, Morgan summoned me to the front of the column.

“I need to know how many we’re up against.”

“Honestly,” I said, “I’m not even sure I can count that high.”

Morgan laughed at first, probably thinking I was exaggerating but my sober expression assured him I wasn’t kidding. Then he swore. “Give me your best estimate.”

I thought about that. “I saw five hundred beans once. I’m pretty sure there are more.” Then I described the nightmare of the horde encamped on the plain, along with the pockets of human prisoners and the multiple fires burning.

He made an odd gesture, touching his forehead, heart, left shoulder, then right. I had no idea what it meant but he seemed to take comfort in it. “I almost wish you hadn’t told me that.”

“Why?”

“Because now I’m the bastard keeping the truth from his men. If I tell them, they’ll head back to Soldier’s Pond. They’ll know, just as I do, that this battle can’t be won with our forces.”

Sour sickness roiled in my stomach, born of fear, not because I feared dying, but because Morgan was right and I hated the idea of letting everyone down. For my new home, I wanted to do the impossible; I just didn’t know how.

“Maybe we can create enough havoc to allow Salvation to evacuate.” I was proud of that word. I’d seen it first in the ruins, then later Mrs. James, the teacher who had been the bane of my existence, had explained in a superior tone what it meant.

“Hit and run is our only option, but for the Muties, the woods are home ground. Guerilla tactics may prove difficult.”

“I can help with that,” Stalker said.

I hadn’t noticed him joining us, which was a testament to how quiet he could be. Morgan turned to him with interest. “How so?”

“I know the terrain fairly well and I’m a good tracker. I can help by laying snares, planning ambushes. We can’t fight them head-on, but I have experience with whittling down a superior enemy.”

He must be referring to battles he’d fought in the ruins, destroying gangs with greater numbers until the Wolves were the most powerful force in the area. Overall, Stalker didn’t seem proud of that experience, but I wasn’t sorry he had it if it meant better odds for us at Salvation. He should realize that he could be proud of his skills without taking satisfaction in every bad thing he’d ever done. There were dark times from my enclave days that I would rather forget, now that I understood just how cruel our rules had been. Morgan listened to Stalker’s comments attentively, nodding and occasionally offering a question or suggestion. After a few moments, I fell behind to join Tegan, who was bearing up better than I could’ve imagined.

“They have some good ideas,” she said.

“Stalker does, anyway. Sounds as if he’s fought against long odds before.”

Her eyes distant, she nodded. “The Wolves went up against the Kings right after they took me. The Kings had more people, but Stalker cut them down. Half of his members were cubs, but he taught them to be merciless and cunning.”

Thinking back, I recalled how my hesitation about fighting brats had led to Fade and me being captured. I just hadn’t expected them to fight that hard or that well. Not at their age. If Stalker could focus that experience on defending Salvation, then maybe all wasn’t lost. I exhaled as we marched on, glad to have this burden off my shoulders.

My skill didn’t lie in planning battles, only in fighting them.

Destruction

By the time we reached Salvation, it was too late.

I’d feared that might be the case, but I’d forced the worst potential outcomes from my head and focused on my task. When we approached from the west, the darkening sky glowed orange from the flames devouring the settlement. I heard evidence of the horde nearby, but we didn’t have men sufficient to face them. Pain lanced through me until I couldn’t breathe. Unlike when Nassau sent the blind brat to our enclave for aid, we’d succeeded in fetching help but it didn’t change anything.

“We should get back to Soldier’s Pond.” By Morgan’s expression, he believed me regarding the number of Freaks massing, and he wanted to advise the colonel.

“You can go,” I said. “But I have to get closer. If there’s anything I can do to save my family—”

“There’s not,” Morgan snapped.

But I wasn’t willing to take his word. I set off for the burning ruins of Salvation without asking anyone to accompany me. Tegan and Stalker didn’t see me leave, but Fade raced after me. I didn’t even have to ask.

“This is foolhardy,” he said.

“I know.”

It was nothing but open ground from the river’s edge to the carnage in Salvation. From this distance, I smelled burning wood, mingled with blood and charred flesh. The west wall crumbled before my eyes, fiery timbers collapsing in a shower of sparks; they soared in the night air like fireflies and the smoke curled upward, ghostly in the moonlight. Momma Oaks had told me that her people believed the soul lived on, after death—that it was a smoky sort of thing that filled your body and helped you remember to be kind. I wondered whether it looked something like this, slipping out of the nose and mouth as a person died.

A group of Freaks hit us—ten strong—and they snarled a challenge, fortunately drowned by the roaring fire they had started. Some distance beyond I heard townsfolk screaming, but I couldn’t focus on them just yet. If Fade and I died here, I wouldn’t be able to help anyone; I wasn’t ready for my soul to drift out of my ears. In a smooth motion, I drew my blades and Fade backed up against me. This felt sure and natural. It was long odds, but I had been fighting this kind of battle since the day I was born, not against Freaks, but against hunger and disease—enemies that couldn’t be faced down with a knife and a fierce look.

“We can take them,” Fade said.

“We have to.”

There was no other option. Either we killed them quick or the rest of the horde found us. Maybe we could drop ten, but not a hundred or a thousand. Or more. They encircled us so we couldn’t flee, more signs they were employing tactics and strategy, but since we had no interest in turning tail, they only offered us better targets. I hoped the Soldier’s Pond reinforcements didn’t retreat, as we might need them to cover our return.

Too late to worry about it now.

The first one lashed out at me and I met the strike with a slice of my blade, opening its forearm from elbow to wrist. Oddly, the blood smelled less fetid to me, if not quite what normal humans had. I sniffed as I followed up with my left knife, carving a path across its chest. More salt and something else, but this Freak no longer reeked as if it were rotting from within. It just smelled … different, and that worried me, but I reacted with dead calm, blocking second and third strikes. The fourth one nailed me, and it hurt. With Fade at my back, I couldn’t retreat. I had to hold my ground for him.

I felt his movements behind me, full of his old grace. Now and then he grunted a curse, muffled a sound of pain. I finished the first one with a downward arc of my knife. Four to go. Gunfire banged in sharp repetition some yards away.

So all the guards aren’t dead. They’re fighting in that inferno.

The Freak dropped at my feet, giving the others room to spread out. They didn’t growl or keen in grief; no, these were warriors, bent on my death. With more room to maneuver, they could swing wider and at the same time. I battled two at once while the third and fourth snarled, looking for an opening, but they couldn’t get to me without knocking their comrades aside. Freaks had progressed far enough that they didn’t shove one another down to get at their prey.

They’re fully organized. The thought chilled me, even as I severed two claws. Still twitching, they hit the grassy ground, smearing green with red, though in the dark it was impossible to tell. Blood spurted from the stumps, then the beast lunged at me with its other talons. Its partner came at me from the side and nearly took my head off. I was tired from the march, too slow to offer my best efforts. But Fade came across my shoulder and stabbed the Freak right through the eye.

When I glanced back, just for a second, I saw he’d already dropped three, and the other two were showing signs of fear. They hadn’t broken and run but they’d backed off a few steps, snarling to show they meant business, but when that wasn’t followed by an immediate attack, it meant he had successfully intimidated them. I loved seeing him back in fighting form, even as I was a little ashamed of my own performance. But maybe Fade needed me to be weak occasionally, giving him the opportunity to be strong. That was all right by me; it wasn’t like I was doing this on purpose.

I’m just so tired.

“Don’t make me do all the work.” His tone was lighter than I’d heard in days.

“I’m trying.”

But when I barely blocked a blow that would’ve impaled me, he snarled like a beast; and like he had done down below, I watched him come unhinged. I knew enough to scramble out of his way as Fade went berserk, his knives a silver blur in the starlight. Moments later, there were ten bodies at his feet and he was covered in blood, breathing hard through his nose.

I approached with care, keeping an eye on the periphery. “Thanks. I was flagging.”

“Don’t I scare you when I get like that?” he asked, low.

I said with conviction, “No. You’d never hurt me.”

“I already have.”

“Not with your knives. Come on.” I cut the discussion and wheeled toward the burning town, determined to help if at all possible.

But the heat was too fierce near the walls and I couldn’t cross. Maybe if I had a wagon or some buckets, I could work on the fire, but my knives were no help at all and I could hear Freaks nearby. This wasn’t a rescue; it was just foolish. My heart dropped into my stomach. Then I saw someone moving near the walls.

Desperate, I yelled, “There’s a secret exit under Elder Bigwater’s house, a tunnel that leads out of town. Round up as many people as you can and get them out!”

“Thanks, Deuce! Will do,” came the shouted reply. Through flickering orange flames, I caught a glimpse of the man moving off, and I was relieved to recognize Harry Carter. He’d saved my life, done me a good turn when Longshot died, and it was right to repay the favor.

Fade beckoned impatiently. “We need to get away, direct the others to the tunnel mouth if they’re still here.”

I nodded. “Lead on.”

The run was harrowing since we were dodging prowling Freaks the whole time, and I was relieved to see Morgan and others right where we’d left them. “If you were one of my soldiers, you’d get a dishonorable discharge so fast it’d make your head spin.”

“But I’m not,” I pointed out.

The older man scowled. “Did you accomplish anything, at least?”

Tegan and Stalker were both talking over each other with incoherent recriminations. My fingers were bloody, and I was soot-stained, but I was no more injured than I had been in any other battle. I hushed them with a gesture, addressing Morgan.

“I think so.”

Concisely, I explained about Harry Carter and the tunnel. Tegan and Stalker stood nearby, listening. Fear and pain crimped her brows together, flattened her mouth into a pale line. I knew she was worried about her family.

Me too.

“Why do you think they weren’t evacuating already?” Tegan asked softly.

I shrugged. “Maybe Elder Bigwater died before he could tell anyone.”

“Zach knew about it,” Stalker said.

That much was true. But we wouldn’t know why until we rescued some of the townsfolk, provided that was even possible. Hopefully Harry Carter could get people rounded up and make them listen, but terror made it hard to think straight. Between fire and Freaks, the citizens of Salvation weren’t equipped to deal with danger on this scale.

“Can you find the outlet?” I asked him.

With a nod in lieu of a wordier reply, Stalker bounded off. Morgan was already signaling his men to follow.

“Stay sharp,” he ordered.

Good advice, as it was likely we’d fight as a whole before too long. In the distance, I made out screaming from those who hadn’t reached the tunnel. I couldn’t remember ever being this scared. I wanted to rescue my family—Momma Oaks, Rex, and Edmund—and I didn’t know whether it was possible. Truth be known, I’d rather save everyone.

“How big is the tunnel?” Morgan asked me.

“Not very. The townsfolk will be fleeing a few at a time.”

“I hope they have the sense not to panic once they climb out,” he muttered.

Though it sounded callous, I hoped so too. People running and screaming in the dark would draw the horde down on us, leaving no chance for escape. The rest of us ran after Stalker, who paused now and then to check a landmark. He kept the route in his head, no need for Longshot’s maps. If he couldn’t recall where the passage let out—

But he led us straight to it, and to my relief, we found a few citizens hiding nearby, mostly women and children. I didn’t see Momma Oaks among them. My heart sank even as more people crawled out of the earth, filthy, terrified, some burned or wounded. Tegan got to work immediately, tending the injured.

Morgan drew me aside. “How long do you plan to wait? We need to move before dawn. We’ll be easier to track escorting the refugees.”

He was right, but that didn’t make the truth easy to bear. “I know. Give us as long as you can.”

The Soldier’s Pond guard checked his personal timepiece, similar to the one Fade had from his sire. “Three hours, then we march. No sleep tonight.”

More screaming, cries of pain, echoed from the burning settlement. The report of rifles said that the guards were buying as much time as they could for the noncombatants to escape. I wished I could break from cover and go kill some Freaks, but that would only give away our position. It would happen soon enough on its own; there was no way to hide so many souls. The moment the wind shifted, it would carry our combined scents to the monsters. Then it would be up to us to cover the retreat.

Tegan wore a stony expression as she treated the wounded. I joined her and offered another set of hands, admiring her skill. Pain lurked deep in her eyes as she wrapped up a brat’s burned arm. I didn’t know the young one, but Tegan called him by name, then sent him to his mother, who was uninjured. It would be faster if we could go in and help, but the tunnel only permitted one at a time, which made the exodus interminable. A few minutes later, I recognized Momma Oaks crawling out of the hole. Tegan had to be watching for Doc, but she didn’t pause her work.

I did. She clasped my hand and I pulled her up the rest of the way, then I looked for Edmund.

She shook her head. “He’s fighting, along with the other men. I don’t know if—”

Before she could voice her doubts, I hugged her. “Are you hurt?”

“No. Just tired. It’s been awful.” I suspected that was an understatement.

I could read Tegan’s reaction. Still no Doc. Still no foster mom. I hadn’t known her new parents well, but I suspected the doctor was still inside tending to the men and his wife would be helping him. The assurance of their courage didn’t make Tegan feel any better, though; and I knew how she felt.

So I had to keep busy.

Morgan set guards on the perimeter and I sent Stalker to scout. He was the only one who could find out what was going on without alerting the enemy. We needed information, but not at the cost of bringing the horde down on us. At the moment our priority was extraction. I went back to helping Tegan by passing her salves and liquids, wrapping wounds and binding burns. Time ticked on; and as the final moments approached, I sagged a little in relief as my foster brother, Rex, hauled Edmund out of the hole. A few more men stumbled up into the fresh air, most of them badly injured.

“That’s it,” Rex said, his voice hoarse. “There’s nobody else capable of following.”

Tegan bit out a quiet cry, but she quickly bent her head and continued working. She was still at it when Stalker returned. I led him away from the others.

“What’s it like out there?”

“A slaughter.” In the moonlight, his scarred face looked pale. “And I swear there are even more than there were out on the plains.”

“Where are they all coming from? And why?” I didn’t expect an answer.

Just as well. He couldn’t provide one. “We need to move. The bulk of the horde is prowling the burning wreckage right now, but there are scouting parties all over the area. There’s a hundred strong just to the southeast.”

A chill went through me as I imagined trying to fight off that many with so few warriors and fifty Breeders to protect. I nodded at Stalker. “Thanks.”

Tegan was still bandaging the injured, her face a study in sorrow. She didn’t look up at me until I put my hand on her shoulder. Then a sob escaped her as she tied off the fabric and sent the wounded man on his way. I put my arms around her and hugged tight; she buried her face in my shoulder.

“It’s not fair,” she whispered. “The townspeople need Doc more than ever and he’s not—”

“They have you,” I said.

“I’m not as good. There are so many things I haven’t learned.”

“I bet there’s a doctor in Soldier’s Pond. As soon as you get there, find him and tell him you mean to continue your studies.”

That stalled her tears. “Will we be there that long?”

“I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “But anything you learn will help down the line and bring you a little closer to feeling like you’ve earned the right to be called doctor.”

Tegan hugged me back, then let go. “Thank you.”

I didn’t say any of the warm things bubbling at the back of my mind—about how she could cry later or that Doc and Mrs. Tuttle had been good people, well worth her tears. There was no time for softness. I strode over to Morgan.

“If your men are ready, we can move out now. I’m told we’re within whistling distance of a battle we can’t win.”

To his credit, he didn’t ask for particulars. The stench of burning buildings mingled with the unmistakable scent of seared flesh motivated him well enough. In low tones, he gave orders to his men, who began rounding up the injured. Some of them would require transport, which meant this journey would take more like three or four days instead of the two we had managed with a hard march. A knot formed in my stomach when I considered how many things could go wrong before I got the survivors to Soldier’s Pond.

Ruse

Fade came up to me as Morgan’s men were lashing branches to make litters for the wounded. Despite the dire situation, his posture was loose and limber. Unlike most, he thrived under such conditions. Most likely, this trait permitted him to survive alone down below. When other people fell apart, he only got tougher and more determined, and the more he fought, the more he won, the higher his confidence rose. I didn’t know if tonight’s victory would improve his emotional state, but I hoped so. Tegan had made it clear there was no way for me to fix him. The shift had to come from inside Fade’s own head.

My body ached. To cover my weakness, I asked, “How do you like our chances?”

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I’d like it less if we didn’t try.”

That summed up my feelings, too. “We won’t be sleeping for a while. Hope you’re ready.”

“How do you prepare for something like this? I wish it hadn’t come to a desperate evac … but it’s good to feel useful again.” Fade gestured at the soot-stained faces and children terrified to silence at the upending of their orderly world.

Among their number, I saw Zachary Bigwater but neither of the elder Bigwaters, nor his sister, Justine. The kid looked older than he had a few days before when he’d begged to come with us because he was sweet on Tegan. In a heartbeat, everything could change. He wore despair like a necktie; it slumped his shoulders and kept his head low. For some reason, he couldn’t meet anybody’s gaze. Tegan tried to talk to him, but he turned away without speaking.

“He’s carrying a pretty big burden,” I said softly.

“Losing everything isn’t easy.”

Fade knew that better than anyone. Once, he had a sire and dam who loved him. First she got sick, then his sire did, ultimately leaving him alone. A lesser boy would’ve wound up in the gangs and let them take away everything his parents taught him. Instead he fled to the dangers and darkness down below, determined to hold fast to the person they’d taught him to be. Even down below, the elders hadn’t touched the inner core that made him special. I admired him for that.

I loved him for everything.

Studying the refugees, I shook my head in perplexity. It was preposterous to imagine that we could herd such a large group to Soldier’s Pond while escaping detection, but failure was unthinkable. Somehow we had to deliver them to safety; otherwise everything about Salvation would be lost. I understood that intuitively, seeing echoes of the ruins. All the people who lived and loved in Gotham had been decimated. I didn’t want to see that happen to the people who had been kind enough to take us in.

“They have no chance without us,” I whispered.

“It’ll come down to avoiding enemy scouting parties,” Stalker said, joining us.

“Do you have some ideas in that regard?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“We could split into smaller groups, trying to lead them away from the refugees.”

I shook my head. “That would leave them defenseless if the strategy failed.”

“If it comes down to a straight-up fight, we’ve already lost,” Stalker said flatly.

Fade prickled to life. “With that attitude, what’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be saving your own skin? You excel at that, as I recall.”

At the veiled reference to how he’d abandoned his cubs at the first sign of trouble in the ruins and threw his lot in with us because we knew how to fight the Freaks, Stalker narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. While I didn’t want them arguing, I was glad to see Fade getting angry about anything, even strategy.

Still, I stepped between them and shook my head. “We should talk to Morgan. Presumably he’s been fighting the Freaks longer than we have.” He was older anyway, though that didn’t always mean what I thought it should in terms of experience. “Come on.”

The boys flanking me, I joined the guardsman. “Do you have any thoughts on how we can keep these people alive?”

“Pray to all your saints.”

I had no idea what that meant or what a saint might be. This didn’t seem like the time to ask. “Are you being serious?”

“Half,” Morgan said. “But it’s not the most practical approach. A group as large as ours will certainly attract attention. I propose we send scouts ahead to make sure the way is clear and keep sentries moving on the perimeters at all times. I’ll also need a squad to guard our rear flank. That’s the group most likely to see combat.”

“I’ll fight,” I said.

“Me too.” Fade spoke almost as quickly as I did.

Stalker didn’t react to that quiet resurgence of our old dynamic; at least we weren’t broken as a fighting team. “If I’m welcome, I’ll volunteer as a forward scout.”

Morgan glanced my way, probably for confirmation this was a good idea. So I said, “He’s the best Salvation has.”

“Then welcome aboard. Go see Calhoun for your assignment.” Stalker didn’t look at me again, merely went off to the fellow Morgan indicated. That told me he was annoyed that I hadn’t let him hit Fade. To me, the guard added, “I’ll leave my best fighting men with you.”

“You’re marching with the main group?” I asked.

Morgan nodded. “I’m not the best soldier, only the man the colonel trusts the most.”

I could see why. He had a steady air and he gave the impression that he could handle himself in a crisis. That didn’t always equate to raw battle prowess. “Tegan will be staying with you as well. She’s the closest thing Salvation has to a doctor since Doc Tuttle didn’t make it out.”

“She’ll be welcome. And I’ll look out for her personally.”

“Her leg bothers her sometimes,” Fade added.

I frowned at him because she didn’t like people treating her like she was crippled, but in a situation like this, Morgan needed to know. She’d already taxed her thigh getting from Salvation to Soldier’s Pond and back again. Tegan must be hurting but she was more concerned with those who needed her than with her own physical limitations. There was only one thing left to do, so I wove through the milling crowd to check on my family.

Edmund was thin and hollow-eyed from the stress of the situation. As I approached, he put an arm around Momma Oaks, then reached for me with his other one. Up close he smelled of wood smoke and leather, though I couldn’t forget the why of the former. Rex stood slightly apart, wearing the dull, shocked expression of someone who couldn’t credit the sudden loss. I stepped into their embrace, quietly grateful that my family was intact when so many others weren’t.

Momma Oaks kissed my cheek, her hand gentle on my hair. “There were just too many. You mustn’t blame yourself. We didn’t have the ammunition or the manpower to hold the walls.” She must’ve been so frightened, but there was little evidence of it at the moment.

“And then they figured out how to use the torches.”

Edmund nodded, squeezing my shoulder with one arm. “But I told everyone you’d be back with help … and here you are.”

“It’s not enough,” I said softly.

Rex started at that. When he spoke, his tone was incredulous. “It’s more than anyone thought you’d manage. When Elder Bigwater said he’d sent the four of you on a rescue mission, most didn’t think you’d come back. We didn’t expect you to save the whole town, Deuce.”

That was news to me. Maybe it was an impossible task, but I’d set out intending to achieve it. This lesser version of success hurt. Still, I’d take fifty-odd lives over none. I hugged my parents in turn.

“What happened inside?” I asked.

Edmund sighed. “Like she said, we didn’t have the ammo to hold the walls. Smith fell behind on production, and once we started running out, the Muties got bolder. Then one of the monsters threw a brand. It got lucky and the wall caught.”

“That gave others the idea,” I guessed.

“Once a fire takes hold,” Momma Oaks said tiredly, “there’s not a whole lot you can do.”

“Why didn’t Elder Bigwater oversee the evacuation sooner?”

Rex’s expression hardened. “Because he was too busy dealing with his mad wife.”

“Oh, no. What did she do?”

Momma Oaks bent her head. “She kept ranting about how violating the covenant with heaven led to our downfall—that if we got right with our faith—the Muties would go away. Her supporters got in the way of defense and the water brigade, as if prayers ever put out a fire.”

“I’m as devout as the next man,” Edmund said, “but I don’t believe the Lord works that way, and I don’t think these monsters are part of a divine plan.”

Rex nodded. “Me either. I refute a god who would do such a thing to test people who have done their best to live according to his laws.”

I had an opinion on that. “The Muties are like wild animals … or they were. Now, they seem more like us. I’d love to know where they came from … and why they’re changing.”

“Maybe someone out there has answers for you,” Edmund said.

“Something you credit more than our stories,” Momma Oaks added.

“I hope so.” Changing the subject, I quickly explained the plan, then finished, “It’s important that you follow instructions and stay close to Morgan. I’ll meet up with you again in Soldier’s Pond.”

I glimpsed a thousand protests in my mother’s eyes, but she voiced none of them. That made her brave in a way I couldn’t match. Whenever Fade was in danger, I wanted to be right there beside him, fighting. It would be beyond me to watch someone I loved stride into jeopardy without me, even if it was best. Her strength surpassed mine by far.

Tears in his eyes, Edmund nodded. “We’ll be safe, don’t worry about us.”

There was no way I could help it, but I took the reassurance as he meant it. He wanted me to go forth and fight without their safety preying on my mind. I appreciated the gesture. I repaid Edmund with an extra tight hug, then I went into Momma Oaks’s arms. She wrapped them around me tight and I breathed her in, more smoke and blood, underlaid with the faintest scent of bread. It had been days since she’d baked, but the smell lingered to remind me of home.

When I came to Rex, I hesitated as I didn’t know him well and most of my interactions with him had come in the form of goading. He addressed my hesitation by hugging me gently. Close up, I could feel that he was shaking, barely putting a brave face on his wife’s loss.

So I gave him a job to distract him. “Watch over them for me. I’m holding you personally responsible for their welfare.”

“Noted,” Rex said sharply.

But his shoulders straightened when we parted. I could see he was thinking about his parents now and not Ruth. There would be time enough to mourn her in whatever way he saw fit. Not now. Not with fires blazing in the distance and the muted snarls of Freaks prowling the woods in search of survivors. I couldn’t remember when the stakes had been so high.

Soon enough, we split into three: scouting party, main group, and the rear guard. Fade, me, and five of Morgan’s best men, who ranged wildly in age, composed the rear. Dennis wasn’t much older than Fade or me, lean and nondescript, yet by the way he handled his rifle and knives, I could tell he was among the best. In contrast, all of Thornton’s hair had silvered, though his beard still bore traces of black. His dark eyes revealed a canny knowledge; strong shoulders and a broad back made him a greater threat. To me he looked like a grappler, a man who preferred brute force to finesse. I also recognized him as the man who had been assisting Morgan in Soldier’s Pond.

I guessed the third one, Spence, was five years or so older than me, short and wiry with shorn red hair. The first time I saw that shade, I was fascinated, as nobody down below had it. Now, I was only interested in how well Spence could fight, and his demeanor gave me no clue. He had a freckled, open-looking face, devoid of violence, yet Morgan had promised us the best. So I’d withhold judgment until I saw him in combat.

Morrow was the fourth. Thin and dark haired, he had a ready smile and a set of pipes slung across his back; you’d mistake him for a fool until you caught the glint in his eyes. Underestimating this man would be the last mistake you ever made, and I figured he couldn’t be more than two years older than Fade. Yet he gave the impression of experience.

The last member was named Tulliver, Tully for short. Her green eyes were keen, set deep in a strong face. She was almost as tall as Fade and older than anyone but Thornton, but her hair was still fair. Most intriguing, she wore an interesting weapon strapped to her back. I’d never seen anything like it. I glanced at Fade to see what he made of it, but he wasn’t paying attention to our recruits. Instead, he was staring at me like I was the last slice of cake on a plate, and somebody had told him he couldn’t have it.

After a flurry of farewells, Stalker headed out with the scouting party. Tegan set out with the Salvation survivors, Morgan leading the way. My family cast a final look in my direction, then they followed as well. This was a terrifying gambit, and we wouldn’t find out if it had succeeded until we reached Soldier’s Pond.

Carnage

“Morgan put me in charge,” Thornton said. “If anyone has a problem with that, you’d better speak up now so I can knock it out of you.”

Nobody made a sound.

“Good. Let’s move. Remember, we’re not trying to practice good woodcraft. We’re leaving a trail for them to follow. More than likely, we’ll see some combat before we get home.”

The word sent a pang through me. I’d just started feeling like I might belong in Salvation when Caroline Bigwater decided I was a plague sent from heaven, whatever that meant, and that the only way the town could be saved was by sacrificing me. For obvious reasons, I wasn’t on board with that plan, so I’d gone for help in accordance with her husband’s wishes. Now Salvation smoldered behind me, nothing but charred wood and piles of ash. I could trace this moment all the way back to the night the Freaks stole fire from the outpost; I’d known even then that the theft meant nothing good.

“I can’t wait.” Tully patted the giant knife strapped to her thigh, and from the shape of the sheath, it had a wicked curve, perfect for disemboweling Freaks. “Those Muties better bring an army because I’m pretty pissed off, after what they did here.”

“They were good neighbors,” Spence agreed.

I hesitated, then decided I wanted to get acquainted with the first female warrior I’d run into since coming Topside. “I’ve never seen that kind of weapon before.”

As greetings went, it was rough, but the woman’s face lit with enthusiasm. “It’s a crossbow. I’ve been shooting since I was younger than you. I make the quarrels myself.”

“She’s amazing,” Spence put in.

I’d come to that conclusion myself, but before I could ask about the quarrels, which I took to mean the projectiles in the container on her back, Thornton snapped, “Enough. Let’s move.”

As I fell into formation beside Fade, I refused to think about the hunting party—one hundred Freaks, Stalker had said—and though my math skills weren’t the best, even I could figure that those were bad odds. The horde was way bigger, a number so huge I lacked the skill to calculate it. If you added up all the souls in Salvation, plus those who lived in Soldier’s Pond, I didn’t think you’d end up with that many humans total, let alone ones who could fight.

The first Freak hunting party found us some distance from the Salvation ruins. I counted more than twenty in the split second I had to assess our foe before the carnage began. As they charged us from behind, Tully whirled and drew the strange weapon on her back. She was fast with it, releasing four projectiles, one right after the other. Three Freaks died. She was a good shot, particularly in uncertain light on moving targets. Then they were on us, a mass of snarling monsters. I slashed with grim determination, my knives a blur in my hands. Like the old days, Fade fought at my back and he was death itself, dispatching the Freaks with complete efficiency.

The others battled around us; as I’d thought, Thornton was a brawler. He lashed out with weighted fists, smashed his way through three Freaks before I realized he was crushing their skulls with brute force. That roused my admiration even as Spence waded in at Tully’s side. The redhead used shooting irons even close-up, a fighting style I’d never seen before. He was adept at knocking a Freak back with the butt, then he shot it in the chest at close range, and he used elbows and feet to boot. As for Morrow, he favored a slender blade, longer than any dagger I’d ever seen. He was elegant and willowy as he fought, his face a study in concentration. Dennis used shorter knives and he guarded Morrow’s flank; I could tell they had fought together for a while, which spoke to how good Dennis was despite his age.

Two Freaks rushed me. Fade took the one on the left with a vicious jab through the neck, and his blow contained enough ferocity that he nearly took off its head. I dodged low and wheeled around to cut the creature across the back of the knees. It went down and I finished it with cold steel straight through the heart. The clearing reeked of blood, the grass damp with dew and worse, slick underfoot. I slid toward another, as Thornton was surrounded, and I didn’t like his chances. No matter his strength, he still needed help.

Tully and Spence seemed to be all right. So were Morrow and Dennis. I stabbed a Freak in the spine, and was rewarded with an unearthly shriek of pain. The monster whirled, slashing with blood-tipped claws, but when I danced back, it couldn’t follow. I had paralyzed it with that cut and Thornton finished the beast with a heavy stomp of his boot. Two Freaks tried to run, which unnerved me. What did they intend? Survival or something more, like carrying a message? Tully shot one in the back, the sleek shaft of the missile lodged in its hide. Spence took the other in a clean kill, but the noise made me wonder how soon we’d see more of these.

There were bodies everywhere, so much death. The corpses lay in pairs and triads, bones protruding, thickening blood pooled around fatal wounds. I couldn’t forget that I’d seen these creatures going about their lives, much as human beings did—eating and chattering to each other. There had been no savagery in that Freak village, no monsters attacking one another. That lent another layer of menace to their enmity; they no longer killed indiscriminately out of endless hunger, which meant this was more than conflict over territory.

This was war.

“Everyone in one piece?” Thornton demanded.

I took stock in a glance. We were all lightly wounded, scrapes and bites here and there, but nothing serious or life-threatening. Dennis bound up a slash on his arm with calm competence. The rest of us could go without treatment until we hit Soldier’s Pond.

“Good enough,” Morrow said.

Thornton made a get-going gesture. “Then let’s move out. We don’t want to be here when another hunting party finds the corpses. They’ll take it personal.”

Which made me think Thornton knew about the change in Freak behavior. Maybe the colonel had shared some of her theories and observations with him. Our leader didn’t look interested in entertaining questions, however, and that made me miss Longshot even more. This wasn’t the time to try to figure things out, though. Too much rode on our diversion—too many innocent lives—for me to get distracted.

Unlike the progress to Salvation, we were noisy. Since it was our goal to attract hostiles and keep them from stumbling on the injured refugees, I stomped my feet like an angry child. With a puckish grin, Morrow got out his pipes. Thornton sighed over that, but he nodded his approval, then a merry melody echoed across the field. If the lilting tune didn’t draw more Freaks down on us, then they simply weren’t roving the area.

It was an odd procession through the woods. By the music that accompanied us, one could be forgiven for thinking it was a party and not the most dire of circumstances. I kept my weapons handy, listening at each crack of branches, each rustle of tall grass, but if the monsters were following us, they wouldn’t be subtle about it, surely. They had the numerical advantage and didn’t need to practice stealth or woodcraft.

Unless they’re following you to Soldier’s Pond.

Fade and I had thought that was why they didn’t attack the outpost initially; they were waiting for us to lead them to more humans. The silence as we moved along the river unnerved me. Distant trees swayed in the light breeze, limbs shifting like skeletal fingers. Each step I took I expected the horde to descend on us, but it wasn’t fear I felt so much as anticipation. Here, I was in my element, protecting those who needed me. Down below, I never expected to live long. As long as I went down fighting, I could be content.

We marched into the morning; as the sunlight brightened, Morrow played on. Soon enough his pipes drew down the next wave of monsters. They heard it from across the river, shallow enough to ford, and came loping across wet stones with fangs bared and claws extended. Tully drew her crossbow and loosed a quarrel to nail the closest one in the chest. I couldn’t hear the impact over the rush of the water, but the creature went down and the current bore it away, the water frothing pink as it carried the body over the rocks.

When the rest drew closer, Spence unloaded, shooting first with one gun, then the other. He dropped two, then Tully killed her second and third. By my count, that left ten, a smaller band than we’d faced before. There’s a group of one hundred hunting us. Or maybe not. It was possible they’d split up to cover more ground.

Please let the others have gotten away from Salvation.

Then there was no time for such thoughts. The monsters rushed up the riverbank and the battle was joined. I lashed out with my blades in crossing strikes that opened the Freak’s torso. Blood spattered from Spence’s next shot, and Morrow fought beside Dennis, his longer reach repelling the creatures from the younger man’s back. They were all fierce and solid fighters, worthy to be Hunters. Fade was savage in his determination, his movements so graceful they looked like dancing. As he wheeled, I waded in, and we traded blocks and parries, slices and slashes with a natural elegance that moved me to my core.

All’s not lost. We still have this.

With anyone else, I would have feared a misplaced blade, but Fade always knew precisely where I was. I never flinched, even when his dagger cut through the air, narrowly missing my arm and embedded in the Freak lunging toward me. He twisted the blade to widen the wound, and the strange stink hung heavy in the air, overwhelming the clean spray of the river and the crushed green scent of grass trampled underfoot. The birds were quiet in the reeds, and I heard no insects chirping, only the roar of my heart as I defended with all my skill.

A second wave hit us as we battled the first. Ten was easy; twenty became chaotic. Spence fired ferociously, keeping them off Tully, and Morrow’s blade sliced through a beast charging straight at Dennis. Two more pushed through his guard, and I raised my knife to throw it. Too slow. Dennis went down beneath their combined weight, and by the time Morrow and I finished them, he was clutching his torn stomach, blood burbling out of his mouth.

The rest of us surrounded our injured cohort in a protective circle. I fought near Fade and Morrow, determinedly cutting down the monsters as they charged. Likely it was exhaustion, but the numbers seemed endless. My motions became clumsy as I blocked, letting a Freak push me back a step. Fortunately the others were enraged by their comrade’s condition, and they fought like a hundred men.

Thornton broke the last one’s neck and then kicked it for good measure. Breathing hard, I went down to the water to rinse my blades and then my hands. I wished Tegan was here. Maybe she could help Dennis.

“How bad is it?” I asked, kneeling beside Morrow.

“He won’t make it.” There was an awful finality in his voice.

Thornton dropped to his knees. “How do you want to play it, son?”

For a few seconds, I thought he was talking to Morrow, but the older man gazed down at Dennis, their eyes locked. “Make it quick, Pa.”

“Aye,” Thornton said.

In a dreadful, tender gesture, he scooped Dennis into his arms and carried him to the river. There, he held the boy’s head in the water until he stopped struggling. When Thornton drew up the body, it was all limp limbs and bloody shirt. The older man’s expression, as he cradled the young one, hurt me to witness, so I looked away.

“That was his last boy,” Tully whispered.

Dennis was actually his son … like Rex and Edmund. It became clear to me just how grave a sacrifice I had asked of Soldier’s Pond.

“What do you want to do about a funeral?” Morrow asked when Thornton returned.

“Gather as many stones as you can find. We don’t have time to do a proper job.”

We worked in grim silence, building a pile of rocks over Dennis’s body. Any moment I expected more Freaks to set upon us, but it remained quiet. Thornton bowed his head and whispered some words I didn’t catch. My heart squeezed.

The last thing the older man did was pull a hand ax out of his pack. In a fierce, furious motion, he beheaded the Freak that had killed his son. Since the monster was already dead, I didn’t see the point, but I hoped it made him feel better. At last, Thornton ordered us onward. Over time I got tired of him belting orders, but since he was smart and I felt sorry for him, I put aside my irritation. We survived the first day, moving slow as we were, and we killed a lot of Freaks. By nightfall, I was exhausted and hungry, but I kept in mind that the longer we stayed alive, fighting and drawing the monsters, the better chance the other groups had of making it to Soldier’s Pond. Since those people were all that was left from Salvation, including my family, I’d fight until the knives dropped out of my dead hands to make sure they were all right.

Yet we couldn’t go without rest indefinitely. We paused beside the river at dusk with light falling like ripe plums, heavy with purple, so that it lent Fade a bruised aspect. All of us were tired; it seemed like months since I lay in a bed. There was bread, meat, and cheese from Soldier’s Pond. Thornton divided it up brusquely, and we ate without the cheer of Morrow’s pipes.

“Do you think they’re all right?” I asked Fade softly.

I wasn’t worried about Stalker; he had a way of surviving what the world threw at him. But Tegan, Momma Oaks, Edmund, and Rex? Yes, I couldn’t help fearing for them.

“It’s the best chance they have.” I respected Fade for telling the truth, but his words offered no comfort.

I couldn’t bring myself to say more so we finished our meal in silence. In the old days, he would’ve slung an arm around my shoulders, using his body to convey a sense of warmth. Until right then, I didn’t realize how much I looked forward to those little moments, but they were gone like the last glimmer of sun below the horizon. The shadows lengthened, a chill setting in. Nibbling my bread, I wished I could touch his shoulder, his cheek, his hair. That didn’t give Fade pleasure anymore, though, and such moments as when he put his head in my lap had to wait until his reaction changed.

Spence and Tully joined us, midway into the meal. His red hair was shorn so close I could see pink scalp. He wasn’t big, but he was quick with his weapons, enough to keep up with Tully, which I took as a commendation. She stood four inches taller, ten years older too. But their body language made me think they came as a set.

“You both fight well,” Tully said.

I nodded. “We were trained down below.”

It wasn’t until after I spoke that I realized they might have no idea what that meant. We were awfully far from Gotham, and maybe their stories didn’t include survivors in the ruins.

Spence proved this guess to be true when he said, “Down where?”

With a glance at Fade, who nodded, I explained in as few words as possible. By the time I finished, both Spence and Tully were looking at us strangely.

“You really lived underground?” she asked dubiously. “That doesn’t seem very healthy.”

There was no point in explaining our culture: the fish pools and the mushrooms and the way Breeder women provided milk and cheese for the brats, or how we’d hunted creatures in the tunnels, kept them clear of Freaks. The life I’d known in the enclave seemed as if it belonged to someone else.

“It wasn’t. We didn’t live long,” I said softly. “Not like people do up here.”

“Tully.” Spence evidently noted my discomfort with the topic. “Less talking, more eating. Thornton won’t let us sit idle.”

He was right about that. Just as soon as the last bite vanished, our leader barked, “On your feet, soldiers. There are more battles ahead.”

Along with the others, I struggled upright. My stomach was full, but the rest of me ached. And I’d thought Silk was tough.

Sanctuary

An endless night of combat and bloodshed followed. At its end, my knives were crusted with dried blood, my fingers sore on the hilts. I had three new wounds in addition to my scars, and two of them needed attention from Tegan. The light of Soldier’s Pond glimmered in the distance, a promise of sanctuary after the torment of the last few days.

My eyes burned as I picked up the pace without waiting for Thornton to give the word. For the first time in my life, I had no fight left in me. I had to know whether the refugees had arrived safely. The others caught my urgency, and soon we were all running, footfalls thudding over damp ground. I heard Freaks snarling in the distance behind us, but they were too far; they wouldn’t find us before we reached the town perimeter.

As we approached, Thornton shouted the password and the guards went to work disarming the traps. In the moonlight I glimpsed spikes and weights, all manner of death waiting for unwary Freaks to charge. The fence wasn’t solid like the one in Salvation. Instead, this one was made of metal, rusted, but still functional, and you could see right through the gate with a ramp leading to the town’s heart. This had been a different kind of town once, clean and homey like Salvation, but the fortifications took away all the charm, making it clear the people who lived here were ready to fight for their lives. The people of Soldier’s Pond understood the stakes and the penalty for failure.

“We made it,” Fade breathed beside me.

He looked as tired as I felt. Breathing hard from that last burst, I followed the others into town and then the guards on duty secured the entry again. They all had rifles and other weapons, some of which I’d never seen before. Before I could ask about the others, our leader did.

“Status on the rest of the groups?”

“The scouts came in hours ago,” the man on duty said.

“And the refugees?”

“Made it an hour past. Some of them are in bad shape. The colonel has set up a med center in the old granary at the edge of town.”

“Where’s that?” I cut in.

I didn’t care if it was impolite; I needed to see Tegan and my family. Though Thornton offered me a sharp look, he did give me directions. I jogged off. I’d gone a good distance when I realized Fade was behind me, but I didn’t stop to question him. It was enough that he didn’t want me running off alone. I have your back. Not when it’s easy. All the time. At least those words still held true. Everything else could be rebuilt with time and patience.

Here, houses were constructed of uniformly sawed timbers with faded, peeling whitewash, addendums to the odd uniform structures in the center of town. The granary was a long, raised building made of old stones. From the outside, I couldn’t tell that it was being used for anything until I drew closer. Lights glimmered in the windows. I rapped twice, not wanting to alarm the occupants within. Momma Oaks flung the door open at once and I could tell by her expression that she had been waiting for me.

“You made it,” she gasped, then she hugged me so tight I couldn’t breathe.

“Edmund and Rex?” I asked.

“We’re here,” my father said.

His lined, dirty face was a welcome sight, so I hugged him too. I teetered on the verge of tears and couldn’t restrain the apology. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save everyone. I tried, but there weren’t enough soldiers and the trip was too far—”

“Shh,” he whispered into my hair, stroking my back.

Momma Oaks hugged me from the other side until I felt warm even in comparison to the hot trickle of tears on my cheeks. Rex stood back, looking beaten down by sorrow; the dead, uncomprehending look had faded, only to be replaced by pain.

“Have you any idea what’s to become of us?” Momma Oaks asked.

I shook my head. “I’m not clear on how Soldier’s Pond runs or who’s in charge. I know Morgan’s second only to the colonel when it comes to town defense. Beyond that…”

“We weren’t here long enough to find out,” Fade put in.

“You must be exhausted.”

Momma Oaks had on her “I want to cook for you and fuss a bit” face but here she was dependent on others for food and shelter. By the twist of her mouth, that reality didn’t sit well with her. I was relieved she was safe, but it couldn’t be easy going from her own tidy home and plenty of food in the cupboards to this. In my experience down below, refugees had few rights, and some enclaves, like the one where I’d grown up, would refuse to accept them altogether, due to limited resources. Things might be different here in Soldier’s Pond, but I had a feeling nobody from Salvation would relax until they heard whether they were welcome.

Knowing she wouldn’t welcome my sympathy, I just nodded. “It was a tough trip.”

“But necessary,” Rex said. “We wouldn’t be here without your efforts.”

Praise made me uncomfortable, gratitude more so. I acknowledged his words with a jerky nod. “I’m going to help Tegan.”

“You should rest,” Edmund protested, but I ignored him.

“I can pitch in too,” Fade said.

The room was a maze of prone forms, laid out with only a little space between them. These cramped quarters reminded me of the enclave, but instead of the makeshift walls built of scraps of metal and tattered curtains, there was no privacy at all. On the injured, I saw each shift of expression, every flicker of pain. It seemed wrong to efface their dignity, after all they’d suffered and lost. Tears trickled down one woman’s face and she was too weak or sad to wipe them away. A stranger did that for her, just before tending the burn on the woman’s right leg.

I drew strength from that kindness. As long as I had two hands, I could work beside my friend. Tegan had to be hurting, just as tired as I was, but she was still on her knees beside a patient, doing what she could to give the man comfort. As I drew closer, I recognized Harry Carter, the man I’d fought beside on the wall. He had a terrible gash in his shoulder and another across his back, plus countless bites. It would be a miracle if he survived; I didn’t know how he’d made the trip from Salvation.

Tegan read my look. “They put him on a litter. He was quite the hero before the town caught fire, I guess. Saved four families.”

Harry’s eyes opened, bloodshot and tormented in his dirty face. “But not my own.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

He closed his eyes when Tegan went back to cleaning his wounds. When the astringent trickled into his rent flesh, it had to hurt but I saw no shift in his expression, maybe because the way he felt inside was worse. Wordless, I fell into our old rhythm, handing her things and wiping away the blood before she asked me to. There should be some words that would make things better, but I couldn’t think of any. Maybe a Breeder would have the gentleness to comfort the ravaged sadness I glimpsed in Tegan’s eyes. I worked on steadily.

It was the middle of the night when we emptied Tegan’s bag; there wasn’t enough salve or antiseptic to go around, so Tegan requested provisions from the women who had been helping us. Unlike the ones in Salvation, these females dressed in worn green trousers and they looked every bit as tough as Tully and the colonel. I suspected if not for the conditions surrounding our arrival, I might enjoy my time in Soldier’s Pond. The women debated among themselves before sending a young runner off to ask the colonel if they could tap into their own supplies.

Tully popped her head in, her hair disheveled and her face lined with weariness. “Got everything squared away?”

I had no idea why she was asking me. “Not exactly. But we’ve done what we can for now.”

“What’s the problem?”

“We don’t have enough supplies for the wounded. They sent someone to ask the colonel—”

“Ah.” She got it, I could tell.

“Is she in charge?”

“From the outside, I suppose it looks that way. She’s a bit of a benign dictator, but she’s smart as hell, and she listens to her advisors. I only wish they paid as much attention to her warnings. If so, we’d currently be operating at a higher state of readiness.”

Only a portion of her words made sense to me. “Readiness?”

“She’s been telling us for a while now that the Muties are gearing up for a major offensive—they aren’t the same mindless creatures we’ve been fighting for years. The last time I went out with her, I noticed the same thing. They set perimeters. They have patrols now. And they use scouts.” She paused, her features yielding to a worry that troubled me. “Then at Salvation we saw evidence they’ve mastered fire. What’s next, tools? Weapons?”

“We won’t survive that,” I said grimly.

“I’m aware, believe me. I just don’t know what to do about it. Alone, every settlement will end up just like Salvation. And I’m taking that loss personal … because last winter, when sickness set in here, Longshot came out in the middle of the cold snap to bring us medicine. A woman in your town made tinctures out of herbs, and without her, I suspect we’d have all died.”

“I wonder if she survived the fire.”

“If she didn’t, then the next time the bleeding fever rolls in, we’re done for. Did she have an apprentice, somebody who knew her recipes?”

“I wasn’t in Salvation very long,” I said in an apologetic tone.

“That’s right. You come from the underground tribes.” Her tone still sounded a little skeptical, as if I sprang from some mythical land beyond her reckoning.

And maybe it was exactly like that, as she couldn’t fathom the way I’d been reared, like the night girl, outside the reach of the sun. Even now, it hurt me more than it did normal people, and my eyes burned to the point that I put on my glasses when other people were staring right up at that glowing orange ball like it was the best thing they’d seen all day. At my core, I feared it as I did fire. Maybe it could warm you up and cook your food but it could be deadly as well.

At that point, I caught sight of Fade, who was reeling on his feet. From what I could tell, they had set him to hauling water and dumping out the bloody, dirty pails, rinsing rags, and generally doing scut work. After a hard march like we’d experienced, he must be feeling like the devil. If only he’d let me hold him or stroke his head, rub his shoulders. I knew I couldn’t make all bad things go away with a kiss, but it hurt not to be able to show how much I cared. I’d only recently learned the power of a gentle touch and now that freedom between us was gone.

Tully followed my gaze to Fade, a brow arched in curiosity. “He’s yours?”

Once I might’ve argued or hesitated to claim him. Not anymore. I nodded.

“You seem a trifle young to be married.”

That wasn’t what Fade and I were to each other. Momma Oaks and Edmund had spoken promises in front of the whole town. Fade had sworn his intentions were honorable, which I took to mean he intended to speak those vows someday, but we hadn’t gotten to that point. Still, it was nice to imagine things ending well, more than I’d permitted myself to envision before. Usually, I saw my life finishing on a bloody note, surrounded by Freaks. Until now, I’d always accepted the obligation to make that sacrifice for the good of the whole.

Those rules didn’t apply anymore. I was allowed to want things. More, to strive for them.

Belatedly, I realized she was waiting for an answer. “We’re promised.”

“Ah,” she said. “Well, you should go tend him before somebody else does. I see young Maureen looking him up and down like he’s a sweet she wants to try.”

“We’ll see about that.” I clenched my jaw and picked a careful path through all the pallets strewn on the floor.

Fade was saying in a taut voice, “I’m fine. I don’t need medical attention.”

“But your arm—” she started, reaching for him.

When he jerked out of range before she touched him, I knew a little shock of relief. It was small and wrong, no doubt, but his reaction proved that he wasn’t being difficult. His problem wasn’t something he could make up his mind to get over. What the Freaks had done to him left damage it would take time to heal. I wasn’t glad Fade had been hurt, only that he wasn’t lying to me. I shouldn’t have doubted even for a second. He never lied, even when it would be easier.

“I’ll take care of him,” I said to the girl.

She was my age, or thereabouts, with red hair caught up in a tall tail. Her eyes were dark brown, though, an interesting contrast. Boys would probably call her pretty, though her thwarted expression marred the overall picture. As I recalled, Tully had called her Maureen. After glancing between us and seeming not to like what she read, she stalked away with shoulders set.

“Thanks,” Fade said.

“You have to let me.” This time, I was prepared for his reflexive recoil.

“I know.”

I was about to suggest privacy when the runner returned, laden down with boxes. So the colonel is generous in times of need. That was a good sign for the refugees, I thought. Fade followed me when I collected the necessary supplies from the stockpile the girl had brought, just enough to tend his wound. Others required attention, and as I strode toward the back wall, Tegan went back to work.

Kneeling, I set down the salve and bandages, then beckoned Fade. He sat beside me, his expression grim. “What can I do to make this easier for you?”

“Just … be quick,” he said.

Hope

“I can do better than that,” I answered, as an idea struck me. From what I understood of his problem, being touched made him remember everything the Freaks had done to him and the pain came back, along with the shame and revulsion.

“What do you mean?”

“Think about the best thing you ever felt, the moment you were happiest. Fix that in your mind and don’t let it go.”

Fade studied me, a frown gathering. “It’s not that easy.”

“Try. It can’t make things worse while I bandage you up.”

“True enough.” With a deep breath, he closed his eyes. “Do it.”

For the first time, he didn’t flinch when I touched him, but I still did the job quickly, cleaning, smoothing on the ointment, then wrapping up the wound. He pushed out a breath as my hands dropped away. His gaze met mine, something new present in his dark eyes—hope.

“Was that any better?” I asked, sitting back.

“Incredibly, yes. I mean, it wasn’t good, but I could stand it. The memories flickered at the edges, and I kept shoving them back with that one bright moment, like you said.”

“What did you—” I cut the question, fearing the answer.

But Fade knew what I was going to ask. “The night after the cherry blossom festival. Holding you, kissing you. When you said you loved me … that was the happiest I’ve ever been.”

My heart compressed. “Love. Not loved. Nothing’s changed.”

“I have.”

“Not in any way that matters to me. I’m sorry you’re hurting, but even if I can never touch you again, it won’t change how I feel.”

“It won’t come to that,” he said with sudden determination. “I’m not letting the Freaks get the best of me.”

Deep down I was delighted to hear him say that. The Fade I knew didn’t accept defeat; he’d always fought—and won—against unbeatable odds. But I didn’t feel like I could put a limit on him or say the way he was acting was wrong when I hadn’t suffered the same pain. I could only stand by him and offer a shoulder, whether he took me up on it or not.

“I’m glad.”

“It will take time,” he warned. “I can’t wish this away. Believe me, if I could, I would.”

“I know. And we got by before, just thinking about touching.” Or I had, anyway. I hadn’t been bold enough to stroke his hair down in the enclave, but I’d spent a lot of time watching him and wondering what it would be like.

“The thinking might do me in,” he muttered.

It took me a few seconds to process what he meant, then heat washed my cheeks. So he missed it, too. “Well, maybe that’s a good thing.”

“I was dreaming about you. When they took me.” Since he was talking about it—when he’d said he would only tell the story once—that had to be good. “It was warm and lovely, and I half roused, thinking you were coming to me in the night. Since Frank was there, I was afraid to make any noise, afraid we’d both get in trouble. I was wrong, and then it all turned to pain.”

“I should have heard something,” I said, clenching a fist.

“Don’t blame yourself. You weren’t on watch.”

“But I knew there was a problem with the sentries. I could’ve stopped it. But I think you were right … neither of us can change what happened. We can only move on.”

“You know what bothers me most? I didn’t smell the one that took me. I’ve gone over every moment, and I should’ve scented the Freak. Why didn’t I?”

“We all should have,” I said, frowning. “But there was no stench the night one of them crept in and stole our fire, either.”

“So what does that mean?” Fade asked.

“Nothing good.” I was too tired to speculate this evening.

I didn’t bother asking where we could sleep. Answers might require waiting longer than I could stay awake. My body demanded I get prone at once. If I didn’t listen, I’d collapse, and though I might not be a Huntress, I didn’t want to be seen as weak, either. So I found a quiet corner near the back wall, away from the wounded clustered in the center. Fade and I would be fine on the floor with a roof over our heads; we’d slept in worse places.

“Rest well,” I said softly, and Fade replied with the first real smile I’d seen in days.

He bedded down a small distance away, just out of arm’s reach, and I rolled up in my blankets, facing him. His familiar features comforted me. Over my time at the outpost, I had developed a soldier’s ability to turn off my brain and snatch sleep when I could, but it was a light doze. I roused at a touch, and half pushed myself upright, expecting to see someone who needed my help. Instead, I found Fade pressed up against me, still wrapped in his covers. I squeezed my eyes shut for a few seconds, startled by the urge to cry, just from the welcome pressure of his arm across my waist. It meant everything that he was drawn to me like this. There were problems in his waking mind, but when he dreamed, like he’d said, it was of me. I couldn’t resist. Gently, I touched his hair, stroking my fingers through the tousled strands, and he puffed out a contented sigh. It wasn’t enough to wake him.

I drifted off happier than I had been since before they took him. Drowsily I decided the last time I’d felt this good was the night of the festival; it was my golden moment too. In the morning, I woke to light slanting into my eyes. Fade was still wrapped around me, sleeping, and I didn’t stir, even though I needed to for various reasons. I feared waking him and seeing the conflict in his eyes.

I braced for it; and when he shifted, bumping against me, I was surprised by what he must be dreaming. Or maybe there was no mental aspect needed. For all I knew, males might wake up in the morning, ready to breed. I had little information on such matters, but as he moved, my breath caught. I had no idea what to do, whether to encourage him or wake him before he really craved what was currently impossible for all manner of reasons.

“Deuce,” he whispered drowsily.

That made my confusion better, more worthwhile. “I’m here.”

His hand drifted to my hip to pull me closer, and I didn’t struggle. From the angle of the light, I didn’t think anyone else was awake. That didn’t mean I should encourage this, but it felt so good to be close to him. Love surged through me in a drowning rush; it took all my self-control not to wrap my arms around him as tight as I could and beg him not to go away again.

Stay. Stay with me. Just like this.

But wishes were empty thoughts, cast down a dark hole. They didn’t come true unless you worked for them. I’d learned that about the world, if nothing more.

Fade nuzzled his face into my neck, his lips warm on my skin. My heart pounded like mad, and it was an effort to remain still and soak up whatever affection he offered in his sleep. I touched a fingertip to my tingling mouth, wanting a proper kiss. Maybe if I’m slow and careful … I warred with myself about the right way to manage the moment, whether I should wake him.

In the end, selfishness won. I threaded my fingers in his hair and shifted back until his lips were near mine, our breaths mingling. His eyelids fluttered, then he pressed in. It was a delicate butterfly of a kiss, as if he’d never touched me before. Then possibly his dream changed and the flavor of the kiss did too. It gained layers and heat, hunger and ferocity. Dazed, I responded in kind, thinking this was what he wanted in his secret heart and had been afraid to show me. I was swept away by his need, then it became mine, until the moment he woke—and remembered.

Fade shuddered. I started to draw back, but he set a hand on my arm. “Don’t move.”

“I didn’t—”

“I know. I came across the space toward you, not the other way around.”

“Is it awful?” I asked in an anxious whisper.

“No. I want you too much to feel anything else right now.”

I took that to mean he was extremely interested in breeding, a fact I could confirm through our double sets of blankets. “What’s the solution?”

“I just … need a minute. Then I’ll go find some cold water to dunk myself in repeatedly.” The wry amusement in his tone made me smile.

As promised, he rolled away, but without any of the prior repugnance he’d shown before. He was too preoccupied with minimizing embarrassment, I thought. In the brightening dawn, his cheeks were touched by high color, and Fade ducked his head as he crept out of the granary, presumably to find the icy bath he’d mentioned. I lay in my blankets for a few seconds, torn between discomfiture and quiet pride. It wasn’t something a Huntress would be pleased with, but the girl inside me was glad he wanted me enough to seek me in his sleep—and it was more than a physical need, I suspected.

Smothering a smile, I crawled out of my pallet and rolled my blankets tightly, then stowed them in my pack. I checked to be sure I still had the splendid legacy of Longshot’s folio, containing the map of the territories with all his notes learned over long years on the trade runs. Thus reassured, I tiptoed over to Tegan, who was stirring on the other side of the room. As I knelt, she sat up, shoving the dark hair out of her face.

“Let’s find some breakfast,” she said.

I nodded. With quick fingers, I subdued my hair in the braid Momma Oaks had taught me to create, ladylike, but also good for fighting. I tied the tail with a scrap of leather, then trailed Tegan out of the building. She followed her nose to what looked like the barracks from Salvation, only bigger.

Inside, the room was swarming with soldiers, all in grungy green. Some looked more alert than others. All were in various stages of breakfast. There was a food line, and with a puzzled look at Tegan, I joined it at the end. There was a place for us to get plates and cutlery, so we went through, telling men with spoons what we wanted. Most of it looked disgusting, cooked in such huge quantities, and a few items I’d never seen before, especially a dish that was lumpy, white, and brown. It looked filling, though, so I indicated it along with a thick hunk of bread. I also found some apples, so I took one of those as well.

A glance across the room told me no tables were vacant. As Tegan came up beside me, I picked one at random with a few empty seats. The men shoveling their food down didn’t look up as we sat, merely kept eating with a single-minded focus that seemed unnatural to me now. I had gotten used to small courtesies in Salvation, I supposed, as down below, we devoured our meals as fast as we got them, fearing somebody might decide we didn’t merit that much food after all.

Tegan cocked a brow at me. “It must be good.”

“It’s terrible,” one said. “But edible, and we know better than to dally in the mess.”

I repeated the last three words with a question in my voice.

“Short for mess hall,” another man clarified.

That didn’t help me, but Tegan made the connection. “Is this a military facility?”

The question earned her a strange look, but the soldier proved willing to answer. “A long, long time ago, it was just a small town. After the first outbreaks, the army stationed men here, provisioned a base to receive and support survivors.”

“Outbreaks of what?” I asked.

Before the man could answer, a bell went off. I tensed—had my knives in my hands and was on my feet before anyone else at the table responded. Tegan just looked worried, but she still had her spoon halfway to her mouth.

Then someone laughed. “You’re skittish, girl. That’s just the signal that breakfast is over and those of us on duty need to get on with training, the work roster, or patrols, depending on what we’ve been assigned.”

“Good to know,” Tegan murmured, going back to her breakfast.

Once the room cleared out, I said, “It sounds like they know more about what happened than the townsfolk did in Salvation, something more real than religious stories.”

“No history is ever unbiased.”

I considered that, eating a bite of the brown-and-white lumpy food. It wasn’t horrible, but it seemed like it needed something else, so I spooned some onto my wedge of bread, then took an experimental bite. Better.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been a long time, but my mom used to teach me, before people got sick. There were books all over the university, and she read to me, explained things as best she could.”

“And she said history is biased?” I wasn’t positive what a bias was. From school, I knew history was the study of things that happened in the past, but I couldn’t understand what Tegan was getting at. Surely something was either true, or it wasn’t.

“Not on purpose. But people see things differently. So I might see a blue flower growing below an apple tree and write all about the blue flower whereas you might see only the apples. Your account would contain information about the fruit, never mentioning the flower.”

“Because the food would matter to me more,” I said in sudden comprehension. “So it’s not that the people in Salvation are trying to lie. They just include the part of the stories that they care about.”

“Exactly. Since they’re devout people, they interpreted the terrible things that happened in the world as punishment from God for their sins. I don’t think we’ll find that bias here.”

Now I understood. Thoughtful, I ate my breakfast in silence, considering all we might learn in Soldier’s Pond.

First, though, we had wounded to tend.

Verdict

The rest of the day, I helped Tegan.

Not only did the bandages need to be changed, cuts and burns had to be tended. There were broken bones too and once we’d dealt with the long process of treating them, they also needed food and broth. I’d never seen myself as a caregiver, but since Tegan needed my hands, I was willing. I didn’t know as much as she did but I followed directions well enough.

“No, hold that with your left hand,” she said briskly. “Don’t move.”

She was so good with the injured, offering endless patience and kindness. I had less of her natural aptitude, but since I was only her assistant, not the doctor, my skill didn’t matter as much.

By nightfall, I was as exhausted as I had been after the battle outside the Salvation gates.

“How many of them do you think will live?” I asked Tegan.

The room was starting to reek of putrid wounds, masked lightly by antiseptic and healing salve. In some cases, her proficiency and desire to help wouldn’t be enough. I felt sorry for those poor souls because a slow death was the worst kind.

She puffed out a weary sigh. “Half, I hope.”

That was even fewer than I expected. “It must be hard.”

“I wish Papa Doc was here,” she whispered. “He could probably save more.”

“You’re doing your best.”

“It’s not enough,” she said, stalking off.

I didn’t take it personally. Tegan wanted to save everyone but life didn’t work that way, no matter how much I wished otherwise.

As I came out of the granary, I ran into Stalker; he had fallen in with the scouts and went out regularly with them. He didn’t look as if he’d rested much, his bones sharp beneath his skin and dark circles cradling his eyes. He jerked a nod, then moved to push past me. I stayed him with an abortive movement, not quite touching him. I suspected by his taut expression that there would be no more quiet moments between us, and that was for the best. False encouragement would be wrong when my heart belonged so completely to Fade.

“What?” he demanded.

“I just wondered what you saw out there and what the trip from Salvation was like.”

“Awful. I had no idea if you were safe, if I’d ever see you again. And this time, I didn’t even get a kiss good-bye.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He had to know I was looking for concrete information about the terrain and the number of Freaks.

“Forget it,” he said. “The colonel is waiting on my report.”

It wasn’t hard to read his mood. “That’s not the only reason you’re hurrying off.”

Stalker eyed me, his mouth flat. “I get it. You’d rather have him, broken, than me whole. If that didn’t clarify my chances with you, nothing would. But you can’t have what you want either, Deuce. I can’t be your friend, feeling like this. Give me some time, and then…” He shrugged. “Maybe. No promises. Just … leave me be.”

“Take care of yourself,” I said softly.

He strode off without looking back, shoulders straight. At least his leg’s healed. Part of me was glad it was over—that he’d finally given up. The rest felt bad that I’d hurt him and given him the wrong signals out of ignorance. Sighing, I went to the mess hall, where they were wrapping up dinner; I was among the last to be served, then I spotted Momma Oaks and the rest of my family across the sparsely populated room. I wove through the tables and sat down with them. They all looked a little better than they had the night before.

“Have you heard anything?” I asked, regarding their official status.

Edmund shook his head. “There’s a council meeting this evening to decide our fates.”

“They wouldn’t just turn us away,” Rex said, but he didn’t sound as sure as he wished.

I didn’t reply since the enclave made a practice of exactly that. In all the years I lived there, they’d made one exception—for Fade—and only because his will to survive fascinated them, the way he’d lived feral and alone, bereft of protection or support. That implacable core made me admire him more, even as I promised myself I’d always be there to fight for him. It was time someone did.

“It sure is strange here,” Momma Oaks whispered then. “They don’t pray before meals, did you notice? And the women go around dressed like men.” She aimed a look at me, as if she’d just realized something. “Is that how you felt when you first arrived in Salvation?”

I smiled at that. “Yes. But if I adapted, you can, too. I don’t think people here mind that you have your own customs.” But that brought a question to mind. “How come you don’t know more about the other settlements? I can tell none of you have ever been here before.”

My mother looked shocked at the idea. “Of course not. Longshot handled all contact with outsiders. It’s been our policy for hundreds of years to limit our exposure to worldly ways.”

“It was supposed to keep us safe,” Rex whispered.

Edmund’s shoulders slumped a little. “Yes, we believed that by conforming to the covenant the original settlers made with heaven and by living plain, simple lives, God would spare us from the trials that plagued others.”

“So … Longshot kept Salvation from being … sullied?” I wasn’t sure that was the right word, but my parents nodded, so I must be in the vicinity.

“He acted as a buffer, handled all of our trade runs and when trappers and traders came to town, he did business with them outside the walls,” Rex added.

That much, I remembered; I just hadn’t known why. “But if you were so worried about bad things getting in, why did you let the four of us stay?” Before, I just thought they were kind folks in Salvation. I hadn’t realized they were so insular. Now I was genuinely curious.

Momma Oaks answered with a quote from the book Caroline Bigwater used to haul around. “‘Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.’”

“You took us in because we’re young,” I guessed. “You thought we’d learn your ways.”

Edmund smiled at me. “That’s not why we welcomed you, Deuce, only the official town policy on strangers.” Then his face fell. “Or it was.”

“Don’t think about it,” my mother whispered.

Drawing in a breath, Edmund rubbed Momma Oaks on the shoulder. “We can build a life here, if we’re welcome. Surely even soldiers need good shoes.”

I glanced down at the worn, poorly made boots that most of the men were wearing. “I’d say they’re crying out for you here.”

“I’d like to apprentice and learn the family trade,” Rex said hesitantly. “I understand if you won’t take me back, though. I’m pretty old to start from the beginning and I’ve likely forgotten what little you managed to cram into my head, before—”

Edmund smiled. “Of course, I’m happy to have you. That only applies if I can find a workshop here, of course.”

Momma Oaks was scrutinizing the green shirts and trousers that everyone wore. “Their clothes are in rags. I wonder if they know how to weave or sew, here. I could set up a shop, too.”

It was good to see them making tentative plans, imagining how they could build. Their hope renewed my own, fortified my determination to find the place I belonged. So far, I liked Soldier’s Pond better than I’d enjoyed Salvation—not that I had wanted the town destroyed. They took us in and kept us safe to the best of their abilities, and I’d always be grateful.

Shortly after I finished my food, the rest of the men filed out. Rex rose to follow them, and Momma Oaks and Edmund did likewise. I came last, watching as the soldiers jogged toward a large building on the opposite end of town. I figured that was where the meeting would be held, more organized than the impromptu sessions Elder Bigwater called on the green. Curious and apprehensive, I slipped into the hall along with the last trickle of soldiers.

Inside, there were rows of benches, similar to the mess hall, but none of them were stained, and there were no tables. The wood gleamed, attesting to the fact that they discussed serious matters here. I slid onto a bench beside soldiers I didn’t recognize. Spread throughout the crowd, I spotted a few familiar faces: Spence, Tully, and Morrow, though not Thornton—and I imagined he was mourning his fallen son.

The colonel stood up front, talking to the same group who had agreed to let her send men to Salvation. Along with everyone else, I waited to see what the verdict was. I couldn’t make out the conversation from this distance, though I could tell they were still talking. The fact that they were meant I had reason to hope for a positive outcome.

Once the room filled up, two men swung the doors closed, then locked it. They took punctuality serious in Soldier’s Pond. Then the colonel called the meeting to order by whacking the table with a small wooden hammer. The crowd quieted at once, turned expectantly toward the front as the council took their seats. Once everyone was settled, the colonel leaned forward.

“A motion has been brought to permit these folks to stay as permanent residents.” In Salvation, people would already be shouting objections or support, but the room remained calm and orderly. Colonel Park went on, “I now formerly call this meeting to order to present our decision. Mr. Walls, will you do the honors?”

The gray-haired man I remembered from their first emergency meeting stood. “Yes, Colonel.” He addressed the audience then. “After a lengthy debate, we’ve decided to offer provisional citizenship status to any families willing to comply with the terms, which are as follows: one member of the household, male or female, must volunteer for service and pass basic training, then take his or her place on the active duty list. The rest are then free to assume support roles in town.”

Though I wasn’t sure, that sounded like joining the guard in Salvation. From what I’d seen of the training program here, it would be more rigorous; they took defense and discipline seriously. A support role must be someone who helped the soldiers do their jobs, likely by making shoes, boots, and uniforms. So that meant if Rex or I volunteered, then the Oakses could stay here and be safe. Well. Relatively speaking. Someone as smart as the colonel must understand the severity of the threat. Her scouts were good or Stalker wouldn’t be roving with them. He had little patience for incompetence.

“Are there any questions?” the colonel asked. Silence. “Objections?”

I expected a spate of complaints but the men and women in the hall merely nodded agreement with the decision. On some level, it made sense to permit new blood, but a favorable decision would never have been reached in the enclave. Resources weren’t quite as strained Topside, however, so Soldier’s Pond could afford to be more generous in their terms—and they still benefited from the influx of new faces. This ruling increased the size of their defense force.

Tully and Spence whispered together, though I wasn’t sure how they felt about the verdict. Morrow was watching me, and when I caught his eye, he touched two fingers to his brow in greeting. The gesture made me lonely for Longshot. Once the meeting broke up officially, I strode to the front of the room, my decision made.

“I’ll join up for the Oaks family.”

The colonel frowned at me. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

She sighed and shook her head. “While I admire your enthusiasm, you’re not old enough, Deuce. We require minors to be eighteen before they can volunteer.”

Horror washed through me. “I’ve been training since I could hold a knife, ma’am, and where I’m from, you’re considered an adult at fifteen. Can’t you make an exception this once?”

“I’m sorry. I respect your courage, but an adult from your family must fulfill the requirement. Come see me in two years.”

That would be too late. Momma Oaks might be strong and resilient, but if Rex died in service to the town, she would have no children left at all. I didn’t think she could bear it—and even if she could—she shouldn’t have to. Edmund probably couldn’t pass basic training; I’d noticed the slow way he moved in the mornings, as if his joints pained him, and his back wasn’t the best from long years hunched over his workbench.

“What about the wounded?” I asked. “Some of them have no surviving family.”

“If they can’t recover enough to serve, then they have to go,” the colonel said. “We can’t afford to support those who give nothing back.”

So they weren’t wholly unlike the enclave, here. They just had the resources to permit a façade of kindness, but ultimately, the result wasn’t too much different. “How long will you give them to heal before sending them away?”

The colonel seemed surprised by my question. “We discussed this issue, and a month seems fair. So we’ll assess everyone in thirty days.”

I had to admit, that was reasonable. If a patient wasn’t on his feet and in fighting form after all that time, it was unlikely he or she ever would be. Sending the injured out into the wilderness was the same as a death sentence, but that wasn’t the colonel’s problem. She had to look out for the welfare of her citizens foremost. I understood that well enough.

“What about able-bodied souls? If they don’t have anyone who can fight, how long before you ask them to move along?”

“There’s never been a time limit set on trading parties or visitors,” the colonel said. “But they wouldn’t have citizenship rights.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means they need a way to earn their food and shelter, and we give priority to businesses run by those who have someone in service.”

So the Oakses could stay, but there was no guarantee anyone would buy from Edmund’s shop. With a faint sigh, I turned and walked toward the exit. The others had mostly filed out of the hall; they milled around discussing the decision in low tones. For the most part, their reaction sounded approving. I stopped short when I realized my family was waiting just outside the doors.

“You already volunteered for us,” Momma Oaks said with a touch of anger.

The failure stung. “I tried. They won’t take me. Said I’m not old enough.”

It never even occurred to me that there would be some arbitrary age that qualified me as old enough to fight since I’d been doing it for years. The schooling requirement in Salvation might’ve given me some clue, but there, the magic number was sixteen, and I’d reached it. I wished I’d known about the rule before; to help my family, I would’ve lied. Frustration surged through me.

Too late now.

“You aren’t,” Edmund agreed.

Before I could protest, Rex said, “I’ll do it.”

I wondered if his parents noticed the despair in his eyes. He wasn’t stepping forward so they’d have a place to stay. Ruth’s loss ate at him, making him just not care about the consequences. This couldn’t happen.

Momma Oaks shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’ve already lost one son.”

“So we rest up a bit and gather supplies.” Edmund produced a cheerful, determined look. “Then we move on. There must be a settlement that doesn’t require military service. It’s just a matter of finding one that suits us.”

Given the distance between towns and the danger of the territory, I wasn’t sure it would be that simple. But the way Momma Oaks brightened, I could see that Edmund’s words had the desired effect. And I couldn’t bring myself to kick dirt on the fire of their hope.

So I offered, “I can check the maps. Longshot has notes about all the towns and settlements on the trade routes.”

Edmund sighed. “I wish I’d paid more attention to his stories, but the rest of us weren’t permitted to travel, even if we wanted to. So it seemed better not to indulge in curiosity.”

But I had noticed that he had a secret yen to know more about the world he hadn’t been allowed to explore because he’d asked me all kinds of questions when I went out on patrol. I wondered if Edmund had ever felt stifled by his life in Salvation. Not enough to want it to end this way, I imagined.

“Don’t worry,” Rex said. “We’ll find somewhere to settle. This is a good enough place, but maybe it’s not where we belong.”

I agreed. “If they can’t see that I’m capable of fighting, they don’t deserve my blades.”

“They don’t know you,” Momma Oaks said. “Like us, they only understand what life has shown them. And I’m willing to bet there’s nobody here like you.”

Given the smile she was wearing, that felt like a compliment.

Accommodation

Spence broke away from his conversation with Tully when he saw we were done discussing our options. “If you’ll come with me, I’ve got your temp quarters assignment.”

“You have houses standing empty?” Edmund asked.

That was interesting since Salvation had gotten to the point that land within the walls was at a premium. There had been talk that families would need to start doubling up in the next generation. That would never happen now, of course. Sorrow settled in my stomach like a lump of stone; so many people had died. I saw far too few familiar faces in Soldier’s Pond.

“There was an epidemic last winter. We lost more men to it than we have the Muties.”

“How is that possible?” Momma Oaks wondered.

If she hadn’t asked, I would have.

“We have stockpiles of weapons and ammo. After the army conscripted this location, Soldier’s Pond became a military base. They didn’t expect to be here long, so they went light on certain provisions.”

“Like medicine,” I guessed.

Spence nodded. “It makes things tough. There are always plenty of people who can teach you how to fight. In other respects…”

“Then it seems like you’d be happy to find craftsmen in your midst, whether any of us are willing to fight or not,” Edmund said in the sharpest tone I’d ever heard from him.

“Are you a smith?” Spence asked.

He shook his head. “Cobbler. I made the finest shoes and boots in Salvation.”

The man studied his feet, clad in obviously substandard gear. “I’ll talk to Thornton—he’s in charge of goods and supplies—see if I can get a special dispensation for you. Policies always have exceptions.”

That was intriguing, too. By rights, he should be applying to the colonel, if things ran as they should. The idea that Thornton quietly did as he wished without regard to his leader’s wishes both interested and alarmed me. But I didn’t speak of these misgivings.

Momma Oaks brightened. “That’s kind of you, sir. I’m a seamstress. Would that help?”

“Not as much, ma’am. This way, please?”

“You go on,” I said then. “If I know Tegan, she plans to tend the wounded through the night. I’ll help her, and when we’re finished, I’ll camp out in the granary like before.”

“Get some rest,” Edmund cautioned, and Momma Oaks bussed me on the forehead.

I watched the path they took in case I needed to find them later and waited in front of the hall until I saw them go into a dark house. Then I turned my steps back toward the granary. In the dark, the paths between buildings were rocky and rutted. Some of them looked like the ones in the ruins, evidence of a facility for building that we no longer possessed. The rest of the trails were only worn in the dirt, pressed flat from repeated use.

“What’re you doing here?” Tegan asked when I stepped in.

“Lending a hand.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my friend, and I care about these people, too.”

She nodded, her dark eyes full of sorrow. Because a number of our volunteers from the first evening didn’t return, it took us most of the night to complete treatment. The young warrior, Morrow, came in somewhere past midnight, to help out. She put him to work at once, turning the men who were too heavy or too hurt for us to manage. By morning, four of our patients had died. Tegan wept after the first; when the third one stopped breathing, she was pale and dry-eyed, which worried me.

“I don’t know where their families are,” she said flatly. “Or what kind of funeral rites they preferred in Salvation.”

“They were religious,” Morrow said. “They didn’t permit visitors, or I’d know more. Not sure if their minister made it. I can ask around … and if not, our chaplain could say a few words.” He hesitated, then went on, “They can’t stay with the living. It’ll increase the risk of infection.”

Tegan snapped, “I know that. Go ahead.”

For the first time, I understood why people were always saying I was too young to fight. Because looking at my friend, I had that same thought. Someone older should’ve removed this burden from her shoulders; she shouldn’t be suffering like this. But with Doc Tuttle gone, she was the closest thing to a doctor these people had, and Tegan wouldn’t abandon them. I wouldn’t leave her dealing with this alone, either. Morrow removed the bodies with care, I’d grant him that. He didn’t treat them like dead strangers. Tegan’s sharpness softened a little, then.

“Thank you,” she murmured to him when he came back for the last time.

He only nodded.

“We need to sleep,” I said then. “The bandages have all been changed, and you’ll be no use to them if you fall asleep in the middle of treatment.”

With a reluctant nod, she agreed.

That set the tone for the next week. I had rarely been so tired in my life as I left the granary only to wash up and eat, then I came right back. It gave me the greatest satisfaction when our patients got well enough to move around, tend their own needs, and head to the mess instead of opening their mouths for broth like baby birds. I saw Stalker and Fade little. At the end of ten days, over half the casualties had healed, and fourteen died. By then, eight remained, among them Harry Carter. I had my doubts that he would make it. His wounds were severe and with his family gone, he didn’t seem to care that much about getting better.

I was exhausted and I ached all over when I stumbled out of the granary to eat. It had been weeks since I slept anywhere but on the floor, longer since I felt rested. Tegan had to feel just as bad, but she had more resolve for this kind of suffering. My own pain, I could deal with. I’d learned to tolerate it, shake it off, and keep fighting. I’d never learned how to handle anguish from people I was helping. Maybe I’d get better at it. With eight patients left, it wouldn’t be much longer. Then the burning of Salvation would only be a terrible night that lived in the memories of the survivors.

I collided with Fade as I turned toward the mess. His hands came to my shoulders in reflex to keep me from falling. Blearily I expected the same recoil, but I was too tired to mind. To my surprise, his hands lingered past the point where I was steady.

“You look exhausted,” he said.

“It’s been rough,” I admitted.

Fade fell into step with me. I hoped they would still be serving, as there were no other options for refugees. Inside the building, there was still a short line and the impatient server was ladling out soup; farther on, I took some stale bread. The food wasn’t good, but I’d had much worse on the road and down below. Fade took his meal and followed me to a table.

“What’ve you been doing?” I asked.

“Helping Edmund.”

I guessed I’d know that if I had visited the shop. News had funneled to me; as patients went for a walk, then limped back to the granary, they brought word from around town. So I knew Spence had made good on his promise to get an exception made for my family, and Edmund was hard at work, tanning and making boots. There had been some leather on hand, and Edmund had the skill to make more from skins the patrols brought in. Unlike theirs, his was high quality and butter soft. Somebody here knew the rudiments of a cobbler’s trade, but his work was shoddy and poor. Once the soldiers were all outfitted in better gear, though, I feared my family might be asked to move along.

“How long do you see us staying?”

Fade shrugged. “It doesn’t seem like home, but Salvation didn’t, either. I’m used to making the best of things.”

“What does make a place feel like home?”

“You,” he said quietly.

“So you weren’t at home in the enclave until you got to know me?”

“I never was, there. But you made things better.” He changed the subject then. “Have you seen much of Soldier’s Pond?”

“Mostly just the field hospital.” That was what the soldiers called it. “And the mess, of course. I’m awfully familiar with the ground in between the two buildings.”

“If you think Tegan could manage for a while, I could show you around.”

“I’d like that … and I think she can. We only have eight people left.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Mostly, it’s good. But we lost a number of patients, and Tegan’s taking it hard.”

He nodded. “She feels like Doc Tuttle would do a better job if he were here because she didn’t complete her training with him.”

“He might know about treatments but there’s no way he could care more.” I finished my meal, then said, “Let me tell her, so she doesn’t worry.”

“She’s already eaten?”

“I always send her first. She won’t leave unless I make her.”

“Then let’s go,” he said.

Since I had Fade with me, despite my weariness, I ran the distance to the granary and darted inside. Today, it smelled less of putrid wounds and more of antiseptic. The scent of blood had dissipated days past. Two of the pallets were empty, so I hoped that meant they were moving around, not dead. I didn’t ask since Tegan wasn’t crying; I decided to assume the best.

She actually smiled when she saw me enter, Fade behind me. “Let me guess, you want some time off.”

“Just a little while. Will you be all right?”

“Of course. You’ve been more help than I could’ve asked. Go.” She made a shooing motion with both hands.

This time I took her at her word. As we stepped outside, Fade stilled me with a look. Once he was sure he had my attention, he reached out and laced our fingers together. Heat curled up my hand all the way to my forearm, but I was afraid to move, afraid I was dreaming. I could feel the difference in his fingertips, new calluses from working with Edmund. He rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand and I shivered in pleasure.

“You’re better?” I breathed.

“Not wholly. But I’ve been doing what you suggested, picturing the happy moments when it gets bad. I don’t like being grabbed unexpectedly—” From his expression, that was awful. “But I … can manage when I’m the one reaching out, and it’s even easier with you.”

“The memories will fade.” I sounded more sure than I felt, but it seemed like a reasonable guess. After all, I couldn’t remember much about going hungry as a brat, but during lean times, we all ate less than we wanted. Time had a way of smoothing out the rough edges.

“I suspect you’re right,” he said, surprising me.

He led me toward the town gate; apparently we would start the explorations at the beginning. In daylight things looked even more forbidding. I would’ve been able to tell that a military force was responsible for this settlement, even if nobody had told me. From the fortifications to the hidden defenses, Soldier’s Pond appeared more ready for war than Salvation, despite the lack of wooden walls. To my mind, now that the Freaks had fire, that might prove an advantage. Deep into the grass beyond the gate, I glimpsed defensive countermeasures: unnatural bulges in the ground and hidden pits, stands of wire, wrapped around devices I couldn’t identify.

In the distance I heard chanting, but I couldn’t make out the source until a group of recruits, all dressed uniformly in green, came loping past. I was awed by the matching cadences of their strides, the way their echoed words came perfectly in unison. At once I grasped the value of such training; not only were they strengthening their bodies, but the chant got them used to one another’s rhythms, which would translate to better combat timing.

Fade followed my glance. “You want to run with them?”

“Will they let us?”

“Officially? No. But they won’t break stride to drive us off, either.”

“Then let’s go.”

As the soldiers approached, we fell in behind them. I got my tour while moving at a smart clip, and I took everything in—the houses were functional at best, and some of them had a strange look, as if humans hadn’t built them. The cuts were too neat, and I had no idea how a person could construct something out of sheets of metal. Here and there sat the rusted remnants of old machinery, a few of which had once been automated wagons, but they didn’t move anymore. The whole town was ringed in open steel fencing, so you could see right through it, and then it had spiked wires across the top. I suspected it would be hard to climb, difficult to maneuver over the top, and it didn’t burn, either. There were eight watchtowers posted around the perimeter, and from what I could tell, the men on duty were fully alert, scanning the horizon for any sign that the trouble from Salvation had followed us.

I didn’t learn the words to the running chant until our third circuit of town. By then, I was singing them out along with everyone else. It made me happy to keep up with grown fighting men, even with the long hours I had been working in the field hospital. When we finished, I was sweaty, but glowing with pride. Fade looked more or less the same as we ran through what the leader called cool-down exercises; it was mostly stretching, flexing, bending, and walking around, but he was right. I felt better when I stopped gradually.

“You sure you don’t want to join up?” the leader asked Fade. “You’re a natural recruit.”

He shook his head. “No thanks. Deuce isn’t old enough yet.”

The man’s expression hardened. “Think about your answer, son. Your thirty days will be up in a couple of weeks. What do you plan to do then?”

Belatedly I realized what that meant. Fade must be eighteen, or thereabouts. He wasn’t sure of his naming day, I suspected, as the elders had guessed down in the enclave. But based on his appearance and prowess, these soldiers were willing to take him on faith.

I swallowed hard. “If you want to sign up and take their training, I understand.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m ever leaving you.”

That’s not what you said before. I must’ve said it with my eyes, as I would never do so out loud, because he registered my pain with a remorseful look.

“I wasn’t in my right mind,” he said softly. “You have no idea how much I regret hurting you, how much I wish I could take back what I said. I’m grateful you didn’t listen.”

It was frightening how happy he made me with a mere handful of words, but my heart, stupid bird that it was, sang on.

Torn

Before returning to the field hospital, I took a quick bath; there were private facilities for men and women. I’d asked how they managed it and received an explanation about rainwater, cisterns, and gravity. To me, it meant only that I could pull a lever and a trickle of water fell on my head while I stood in a narrow room. This was similar to how it had been down below, but the water was warm in Soldier’s Pond. They used the sun to heat it somehow.

The shower felt great but I didn’t linger. Afterward I dressed and ran back. I found Tegan with six patients, one of whom was Harry Carter. The other two pallets had been rolled up and stacked for laundering. Since she was smiling, I took that for good news.

“They recovered?”

“Enough to decide to leave,” she said.

Her gaze roved over my wet hair, clothes still sticking to my damp skin because I hadn’t taken time to dry off properly. “Do you mind if I go to the bathhouse too?”

It had been long enough that she desperately needed to clean up, but I hadn’t wanted to say something like, Get out of here already, Tegan, you stink.

“I can manage,” I said.

Since I’d watched over three times this number, not long ago, and we didn’t have any treatments due for a while, it should be easy. For the moment, I was content—full belly, muscles pleasantly lax from the run with Fade, and I was quietly glowing, too, over those moments afterward. Though things might be terrible again soon enough, right now everything felt all right. Or as much as it could be, considering what happened in Salvation.

Once Tegan had gone, I settled in the middle of the room, so I would hear if anyone called me. Sometimes the patients needed water or had an itch they couldn’t reach. At first it was quiet, then the pervasive whisper reached me. It was a thread of sound, my name rustling through dry lips. I brought the water pitcher with its ladle with me, expecting Harry Carter wanted a drink. But when I settled beside him, he opened his eyes. His face was terrible and sallow, which Tegan said was bad.

“Why am I still alive?” he asked.

It was an awful question, and I made up an answer. “Because you have work to do yet.”

“Do you truly imagine I’ll recover enough to be useful to anyone?”

I ignored the bitter, angry words. We had been keeping his wounds clean, so I checked them. He should be healing better than he was. I found that the bites had begun to fester—again—which meant they needed to be opened and cleaned. I hated this part of the job. Sucking in a breath to brace myself, I got one of Tegan’s knives and treated it with antiseptic as I’d seen her do. When I came back, he shifted away from me, horror in his gaze.

“Don’t do this. Not again. I’m never going to be whole. Just … let me go. Better yet, kill me. It would be a mercy. Please, Deuce.”

It was impossible to hear a strong man like him beg, and for a few seconds, I was tempted. The Huntress in me wanted to give him the end he craved since he had been denied a warrior’s death. But the girl in me shook her head vehemently. Tegan will never trust you again, if you hurt him. My fingers trembled on the knife as dual instincts warred within me.

Gently, I said, “I’m not doing that, Harry Carter. You might’ve lost your family, but you saved a good portion of the town. I hear you fought like the devil himself, keeping the Freaks away from the Bigwater house, so that others could escape.”

“That’s done. I’ll never hold a rifle again.”

“That’s a lie,” I told him. “You took most of the damage elsewhere. If you’d just make up your mind to heal, you could get out of this place and take some revenge on those monsters.”

His retort was sharp with bitterness. “‘Revenge not yourselves, my dearly beloved; but give place unto wrath, for it is written: Revenge is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.’”

I recognized that as a quote from the old book Caroline Bigwater had been prone to toting. “I don’t mean to urge you to sin, Mr. Carter, but if it was me, I’d want blood in payment from those Muties, not the word of a man who lives in the clouds.”

“So you won’t have mercy?” he asked, low.

The Huntress in me protested, This isn’t how I’d want to end my days. But I ignored her.

“No,” I said. “And what I’m about to do may seem cruel.”

My hands were clean; so was my knife. With careful fingertips, I traced the puffy edges of the first bite. Yes, it was hot and swollen, already filling up with pus again. He screamed when I opened the wound, and he yelled more as I expressed and cleaned it. The other patients called out words of encouragement as I worked, likely hoping to ease his pain. Harry Carter was a strong man, but he passed out when I got to the fourth one, which was a blessing. I finished my task quickly, then bandaged the affected areas. By the time Tegan got back, I was shaking.

Being a healer is harder than being a Huntress.

“What happened?” she demanded.

I didn’t share with her what Harry had asked of me. Instead I gestured to his fresh wraps. “I had to open him up again.”

Her dark gaze softened. “Poor man.”

“I hope this is the last time. I’m starting to feel cruel inflicting this on him.”

She nodded. “I’ve never treated so many Freak bites before, at least not on the same person. It’s almost like their mouths are poisonous.”

I stared at her, wondering if that was possible. “Are they?”

“I need more information. I’ve been treating this like an infection, but so few people survive an attack, fewer live through the kinds of injuries Mr. Carter’s suffered. I wish Doc was here.”

“He wouldn’t know what to do, either,” I said, but from her expression, that was no comfort, so I shut up.

“Stay with him,” she ordered.

I sat down cross-legged on the floor, keeping an eye on Mr. Carter. For me, this man’s recovery had become a personal battle. He had to get better; it was a sign of things to come. As I watched, she went to her bag and drew out some stoppered vials. Each contained dried, crushed herbs, and Tegan muttered to herself as she set a kettle on the hearth, added water, then pinches of this and that. The resulting mixture smelled really vile.

“Is he supposed to drink that?”

She shook her head. “I’m going to pour it into his bites.”

“What is it?”

“I have no idea. I’m combining ingredients that Doc told me were good for various things: fever, bee stings, snakebite, pain, swelling. I might make things worse, but I have to try.”

Studying Carter, I didn’t think it was possible to make him sicker. He was already begging for death. “We should do it before his wounds close and we have to hurt him again.”

“My thoughts exactly. It has to cool a little first, or we’ll burn him.”

That took a while. But it was a kindness that Carter didn’t rouse while we doused his injuries and wrapped them up again. It was too soon to say whether it helped, but I liked that we were trying something new, not just repeating past efforts and hoping for the best. I spooned some water into him and figured that was all I could do tonight.

Tegan sat back with a weary sigh. “Now we wait and see.”

By morning, however, we saw a vast improvement. His skin tone was better—bright and warm—instead of the ashy gray that marked a man for death. Tegan hugged me, and I squeezed her back, though I hadn’t done anything except stick around. We sped through our morning rituals, the cleaning and tending. At least we didn’t have to feed patients anymore; they were all well enough to hold a cup or a spoon.

Carter’s eyes were sharp and alert as I handed him a mug of broth. With my help, he struggled to a sitting position for the first time since we arrived in Soldier’s Pond. I took it as a personal victory. His hands shook but he downed it all.

“More?” he asked.

I refilled him. “Decided to live, have you?”

“It’s obvious you won’t let me die, so I better quit malingering and get back to the fight.” In his quiet expression, I saw gratitude.

“Thank Tegan,” I said. “She’s the doctor, not me.”

I felt so incredibly proud of her. With nobody’s help, she had come up with a successful treatment for Freak bites. I hoped she recalled the exact proportions of the remedy because I had a feeling we would need that tincture again in the near future. The Freaks hadn’t quit the field; they just hadn’t reached Soldier’s Pond yet. So that meant this was, at best, a lull before the worst of the storm.

Part of me felt anxious and unsettled. We should be laying battle plans, but I had no part in any such arrangements. Here I wasn’t even old enough to join the military. Once again, I had been relegated to the rank of child, regardless of what I could offer. I didn’t regret the time I had spent on nursing, but my skills were better suited to fighting the enemy.

Carter seemed to read my mood and his own expression grew somber. “Don’t worry. I’ll be on the front lines when the time comes.”

“That means a lot to me.”

I wasn’t joking. If I couldn’t have Longshot, then Harry Carter was the next best thing. He was Salvation’s hero, and I had no doubt that once he recovered his strength, he would be a powerful force in the war against the Freaks. He wore a determined look, as focused on recuperation as he had been on despair. If they weren’t terrifying monsters, I’d pity the beasts.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Tegan said then. “But isn’t it time you rejoined your family? I appreciate your help and all, but I can manage these patients on my own.”

“Are you dismissing me?”

“I believe I am.”

“I’ll swing by to check on you tomorrow,” I said to Carter.

He bobbed his head. “I’ll look forward to it. I might even be strong enough to eat my next meal in the mess I’ve been hearing so much about. Still say food cooked in a place with a name like that can’t be too delicious, though.”

I smiled. “You’re not wrong.”

Though Fade hadn’t showed me the way to Edmund’s shop, I followed my nose. Tanning leather created an unmistakable smell, so it was fairly easy to locate. The workshop was located near the house they had been assigned, closer than it had been in Salvation. I stepped into the shop, inhaling the familiar scents. The process of creating leather from skins was noisome, but the finished product smelled better. Edmund was behind a makeshift counter, checking measurements before he cut the sole. Noises in back said Fade and maybe Rex were here too.

“Are you settling in all right?” I asked.

Genuine pleasure dawned on my father’s face. He came around to hug me. I’d never been touched so much or so easily, and I was adjusting to the idea that it didn’t have to mean weakness. Still, I hugged him back, reveling in my ability to be a girl, not just a Huntress. I was a little backward in some regards, and I wanted to fix that.

“Are you finished in the infirmary?” he asked.

I nodded. “Tegan sent me away. She had some idea you might be missing me.”

“You’ve no idea,” Edmund said. “Your mother is worrying herself sick, so I’d count it a personal favor if you would reassure her.”

“What did she think would happen to me, working with the wounded?” I asked, puzzled.

“You could catch something or get an infection or be hurt by a delirious man—”

“So she’s making up reasons to fret so she doesn’t have to focus on the real problem.”

Soberly, Edmund nodded. “Go see her, please.”

“Is it all right if I have a word with Rex and Fade, first?” I gestured at the back room.

“Go ahead. Just don’t dally too long.” I could tell by his narrow-eyed look that he meant sparking, and I sighed.

With Rex in the room, it was unlikely I would crawl all over Fade, even if he could stand for me to do so. Despite my wishing, we weren’t back to our old standing yet. I just nodded as I moved past Edmund, navigated the counter, and stepped into the dim room where all the materials were gathered. Fade was smearing something that smelled awful on a stretched skin while Rex handled another portion of the process. They both glanced up on my arrival, and Fade actually smiled.

“Come to admire my work?” he teased.

I pretended to study the rack, then offered a patently false criticism, as I had no idea what they were about or if it was well done. Rex laughed, which was the point. It was good to see my foster brother getting along with Fade. We chatted a while, but I couldn’t linger, as they had work to do, and I had to reassure my mother that I numbered among the living, despite her fears.

With a wave for Edmund, I hurried out of the shop. Though it had been dark when I watched them go into their little house, I found it fine. It was smaller than their place in Salvation had been, just a room full of beds, really, and they were odd, too, stacked on top of each other, so there was no privacy at all. I found Momma Oaks sweeping a floor that didn’t need it. Here, she had no place to cook, she’d left her beloved dog behind, and the soldiers didn’t seem to value her work. When you got right down to it, our circumstances were similar.

But she brightened when she spotted me. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Few people had said that to me and meant it. Other than Fade, I couldn’t think of anyone who treated me like the sun. Momma Oaks genuinely loved me, however, even when I was difficult for her to understand.

“This is an odd place,” I said.

At best, it was shelter. Surely there were normal homes, where families cooked their meals and gathered in the parlor to share stories. I’d seen them dotted here and there, but my family had been allotted this instead. Refugees had no rights, though, no reason to expect better.

But my mother didn’t show a hint of dissatisfaction.

“I’m told it used to house soldiers who had no family, but many people died of fever last winter and the Muties have gotten others. So it was standing empty, waiting for us.” She put on a smile. “Isn’t that lucky?”

I loved this woman so much that my heart hurt with it. I wanted to keep my whole family safe and happy, and it cut me to the bone that it might be beyond my power.

Summons

True to his word, Harry Carter had supper the next night with Fade and me in the mess hall. He took short walks around town, building his strength, and I admired his determination. The following day, a runner came to the workshop, where I was pitching in. Since they wouldn’t let me train with the men, I had to keep strong somehow—and cleaning served the purpose. This soldier was young, barely older than I was, but apparently of age to volunteer. He stared at the industry as he’d likely never seen people practice a trade before.

“Do you need something?” Edmund asked.

“I’ve been asked to fetch the girl and her friend to the colonel.”

I couldn’t imagine why, but I dusted my hands on my thighs, then called to Fade, “Can you pause for a bit?”

He said something to Rex, then stepped out into the main room. “What’s going on?”

“The colonel needs you,” the messenger said.

Fade shrugged. “Let’s go see what she wants.”

Soldiers were running as usual. Others practiced with melee weapons. From the perimeter, the sentries kept calling the all clear. It wasn’t too far, distance-wise, so the silence from the enemy troubled me. If Stalker wasn’t so mad at me, I’d ask for an update on the horde’s position; and it wasn’t his anger that prevented me from inquiring, only the surety he’d snarl and refuse to reply.

I figured the town leader had a job for us. There was no other reason for such a summons. Fade was quiet until we reached headquarters, then he said, “How bad do you suppose it’ll be?”

“If she had anybody who could do whatever it is, she wouldn’t need us,” I answered.

He nodded as we passed into the staging room. If anything it was messier than before with documents and papers spread all over. There was a huge map laid on a battered table and it had markers on it, spread in no pattern I could detect, some red, some black. Morgan cleared his throat to draw the colonel’s attention, and she managed a weary smile. That told me things were dire. People in power only smiled when they wanted something.

“Good, you got my message. How much do you know about our preparations?”

“Nothing,” I muttered. “They wouldn’t let me join up.”

“We’re trying to avoid involving a generation of children … but we might not have a choice down the line. If we lower the enlistment age, you’ll be the first to know.” She paused, looking us over in way that made Fade bristle. “But I can make an exception for covert and special operations.”

That sounded like a fancy way of breaking the rules, just like they had done for Edmund, because they needed new boots. The government of Soldier’s Pond would do whatever it wanted and then come up with an explanation to justify the decision later. I folded my arms and waited, giving her nothing. My silence set her to pacing, which told me she was worried. I had no interest in going to fetch help, if that was on her mind. It hadn’t saved Salvation, and that tactic wouldn’t work here, either. The Freaks outnumbered us, plain and simple; we needed a new strategy to defeat them.

The devil if I know what, though.

“What’s that?” Fade asked, when it became clear I was keeping quiet.

“Special ops are initiatives undertaken for the good of the town, but not common knowledge to the other soldiers.”

“A dirty secret then,” I said.

“Not exactly, but I could see how it would sound that way. First, how familiar are you with what we’ve laid out here?” She indicated the map and all its markers.

I shrugged. “I can see what it is, but I don’t know what those wood pieces mean.”

“The black ones stand for settlements,” she explained. “And the red represents all the Mutie movements scouts have spotted in the vicinity.”

“Has the horde broken into smaller groups?” I asked.

“No. This is it.” The colonel touched the biggest red piece on the map.

It covered what looked like impressive ground in the middle of the territory, plus there were all the smaller forces to contend with as well. I had no idea it was this dire. Stalker probably did. And he didn’t tell you. And there was nothing I could do about it. I curled my hands into fists. My knives were paltry against such a threat.

“What do you want?” Fade asked. “It’s fine to show us how bad things are, but that’s not why you summoned us.”

“No. After talking to some of my men and hearing stories, some of which I don’t entirely believe, I’ve come to the conclusion that the two of you might be the best suited to undertake a mission for me.”

“Let me guess—” I started.

The colonel held up a hand. “Don’t waste my time with sarcasm. Hear me out. It’s a simple yes or no. We need info from a settlement to the northwest … and it’ll help us combat the Muties. But getting through enemy lines won’t be easy, and I need someone who’s used to traveling quick and quiet. Your mission is simple—avoid detection whenever possible, find Dr. Wilson, retrieve the scientific data, and get back here fast.”

Fade arched a brow. “Is he a medical doctor?”

Good question. If so, Tegan would want to meet him for sure. Now that her patients were better, she was currently working with the doctor in Soldier’s Pond, but she didn’t think highly of his skills. So maybe we could persuade Wilson to come to Soldier’s Pond. If he wasn’t used to travel, that might make the return journey difficult, but it’d be worth it to see her smile again.

But the colonel shook her head. “Not exactly. He’s a scientist, and he’s been studying the Muties for twenty years. Last contact we had, he was close to finding a weakness, something we can exploit to counter their greater numbers.”

“That won’t be enough,” I said. “You need an army, not facts and figures.”

Her expression went flat. “We have one, but I won’t send them out ill-prepared when Wilson could potentially save lives.”

“Your army is too small.” I had been thinking about this for a while, and the truth crystallized for me like candy Momma Oaks used to make. “The only way we win is for all the settlements to band together, pool their people and resources.”

She laughed at me, then shook her head ruefully. “It’s a nice idea, Deuce, but folks have gotten too used to their independence. We can barely come to consensus here, let alone get another town to agree on the action we should take. The territories have turned into a bunch of separate city-states … we haven’t cooperated in over a hundred years.”

I didn’t know what a city-state was, but it sounded counterproductive. It’s unlikely we can win this war with all the towns acting alone. But the colonel wasn’t interested in my advice, only in using me.

“Then we’ve already lost,” Fade said. “And this trip is pointless. We may as well go about our business until the horde swoops in. You’ll last longer since your fortifications are metal and you have an ammo stockpile, but sooner or later, they’ll overrun you.”

His assessment matched mine completely, and I gave a short nod. The colonel planted her hands on her hips, trying to stare us down, but it didn’t work. Silk had a much worse glare and her punishments had been truly cruel. I doubted the colonel had anything like that kind of ruthless streak—until she proved me wrong.

“Do you know what conscription is?” she asked me.

Immediately, I tensed, more at her tone than the word. “No.”

Her smile genuinely frightened me. “What about a draft?”

“Like when a cool wind gets in through cracks in the house?” I guessed that wasn’t it.

She shook her head, proving me right. “Historically speaking, armies and navies could demand that a person sign up for service and enforce that requirement by any means necessary in times of war. I’d say this qualifies, wouldn’t you?”

Since I’d long thought the Freaks weren’t just killing us for food—that they saw us as their enemies—I could hardly dispute her statement. So I stared at her hard, hoping she felt my active dislike. In her smooth tone, I sensed a trap; I just couldn’t make out its shape just yet.

“No need to answer. Your eyes speak plainly enough. So that being the case, I might have no choice but to call someone else up for active duty, if you refuse this mission.” She paused delicately, pacing a step or two, as if contemplating who it might be. “Your brother, Rex, perhaps. He seems strong, hearty enough.”

“You’d send Rex out into the wilderness? That’s the same as executing him. He doesn’t have the skills to survive.” The words burst out before I could stop them, showing the colonel that she had me exactly where she wanted me.

It didn’t matter what I thought of this task, or the relative worth of the information she wanted me to retrieve. Momma Oaks would be heartbroken if anything happened to her sole surviving son, especially after the sack and pillage of Salvation. She was clinging to the tatters of faith that a rough life had left her, and I’d do anything to keep her cheerful spirit as bright as it could be. I bit down on my lower lip against the curses that sprang to mind, some I’d learned from Gary Miles and his cohorts, but somehow I doubted I would succeed in shocking the colonel, now watching me with a faint smile.

“That’s up to you,” she said softly. “I won’t risk my own people, and I need that data.”

Fade growled, taking a step toward her. I threw out a hand, not touching him but keeping him from going after her. He wasn’t altogether rational when people threatened me, and this qualified. But it was more emotional duress than physical danger, and he knew it, which was probably why he stood down at my gesture. By his look, he was furious, however—and so was I.

“Don’t expect me ever to join your military,” I said in a low, lethal tone. “You’ll get this one job out of me, and nothing more, ever. Plus, I have some terms.”

Her mouth twitched. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

“Clear the room.”

“My advisors are privy to anything you—”

I drew a knife and spun it in my palm, a habit that had unnerved the men in Salvation. “I said, clear the room. I won’t ask twice.”

She appeared to come to a rapid decision. “Everyone out. Give us five minutes.”

“But, Colonel,” one of the men protested, and she waved away his concern.

“If I can’t keep one girl from killing me, then you need someone else leading your armed forces. Post a guard at the door and see that we’re not disturbed.”

“I’ll do your dirty work willingly,” I said, once we were alone, “under one condition.”

“What’s that?” she asked with a faint smile.

“You let me make my pitch to your men. I intend to raise an army that owes its allegiance to no town. It’ll be full of humanity’s best and brightest, and we’ll eventually take the battle to the horde. Your part is simple”—I mimicked her brisk tone from earlier, using almost the same words—“you let me speak and you don’t deny anyone who wants to march with me. They go, free and clear, when I leave Soldier’s Pond. And finally, you leave my family alone. No more threats against them, or so help me, I’ll find a way to cut your throat as you sleep.”

Colonel Park actually looked shaken by my ferocity. Then, to my surprise, she inclined her head in a terse nod. “That’s fair, especially since my men will laugh their arses off at the idea of joining an army raised by a little girl. So you’re welcome to anyone crazy enough to follow you, so long as you complete the mission first.”

Her mockery burned, but I’d known worse. And maybe, just maybe, I’d surprise her. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had underestimated me.

“Deal,” I said, offering my hand.

We shook, then she tried to execute a restraint maneuver, probably to humble me, but Stalker had drilled me on that move in Salvation. I blocked and twisted her arm, so that she had to drop to her knees, or I would’ve broken it. My gray eyes must’ve looked cold as dirty ice as I stared down at her.

“I made that gesture in good faith. Now swear on something you hold sacred that you’ll keep your word.”

“I promise,” she gasped.

I relented just before I did permanent damage and she sprang to her feet, stumbling backward. There was a new wariness in her gaze; and I saw she’d take me seriously from now on. That might not be a good thing, but it meant I wasn’t a tool to be used anymore, either.

In an easy movement, I slid my blade into its sheath. Fade stood at my shoulder, ready in case she decided to pursue the conflict. Eventually, her shoulders relaxed. She needed us for the mission; therefore, we couldn’t be executed or even punished. Soon enough I’d find out whether her pledge meant anything.

“Show me on the map where we’re going,” I said, smiling. “There are plans to make.”

Misdirection

Fade and I slipped out of town early the next morning. The colonel was running a drill with mandatory attendance for all, creating enough commotion that nobody would notice our absence until it was too late. Fade was worried about letting Edmund down in the shop, and I felt guilty not telling my family about the assignment, but they would only fret longer if they knew, plus I’d have to deal with another emotional good-bye. Sometimes it was more expedient to get on with your work and apologize later.

Not since we first came Topside had Fade and I taken a journey alone. Though I didn’t say so out loud, it was nice having him to myself. There was no one to note how often I admired his sure strides or the strength of his broad shoulders. At once I chastened myself for such thoughts. They had no place outside the safety of town limits; in the wilderness, an instant’s distraction could have disastrous consequences.

“According to the maps, it’s a three-day run,” I said.

“You think we can do it faster?”

“I hope so. If we’re gone for a week, Momma Oaks will have a conniption.” That was a new word, one I loved. When I’d asked what it meant, Edmund described it in such an exaggerated way that I didn’t want to see such a fit for myself, in case he was telling the truth.

“Times like this, I miss my folks most,” Fade said softly.

“Because you want to be in trouble too?”

“No. I wish I had somebody to worry about me.”

“You do,” I told him. “I fret over you all the time. I just don’t say anything because it doesn’t seem like something you’d want to hear from me.”

He flashed me a smile as we put Soldier’s Pond behind us. “Feel free to fuss a little. I wouldn’t mind.”

It occurred to me then that his life had been bereft of small kindnesses, like when he put his head in my lap, and I stroked his hair. For me, it wasn’t such a large matter; I hadn’t even known I was supposed to want such things, until I met Fade. But with his desire to be touched struggling against the weight of bad memories, however, I wasn’t sure he could bear it, and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt or trouble him, even with the best intentions. But maybe this trip could reassure him that he was strong and competent—that the Freaks hadn’t changed anything.

The sun was just creeping above the horizon as I broke into a run. It felt good to be away from the settlement, even if it also carried risk. I was used to that, less prepared for the pain and exhaustion that nursing left behind. Fade jogged alongside me and I remembered our desperate journey to Nassau down below. Topside, the light was better, and the air was clean. I smelled the dying leaves and broken blades of grass beneath my feet, faint musk of animal droppings and the honeyed purr of clover in the air. In a few more months, the snow would come; my family needed to be settled before that time.

Toward the end of that first day, we dodged Freak patrols like it was our reason for living. They were only hours away from Soldier’s Pond, but I guessed the military settlement had given them reason to fear a direct attack. I’d rather fight and clear the area, but I had been instructed to get there undetected, and I had to admit, it would only complicate our mission if we had monsters chasing us. With only two of us on the move, our scent shouldn’t be strong enough to attract a big hunting party. Chills crawled over my body when I caught the rare scent of the Freaks on the wind—not the old, rotten reek, but the new, meaty animal smell. It told me that these creatures had changed for good, and if we couldn’t work out how and why, then we might not survive the coming conflict.

Fear might have paralyzed me if not for Fade. He beckoned with a determined look, then guided me around the danger zone. I kept my footfalls light and soft while we passed through; and in the distance, I heard it—the rustling foliage and cracking branches that said we had company. The Freaks called to one another in a whuffing, growling tongue—what dogs might sound like if they could speak. I could hardly hold the question until we were out of range.

“Do you think they have their own language?” I whispered.

“I think so.” His voice was low and grave. “I’m pretty sure they spoke to one another while they held me. But I don’t care to stick around to ask.”

I shivered. “Me, either.”

There was no way to tell how many were lurking nearby without a scout. For the first time, I wished Stalker had come with us. If anyone could give us the lay of the land and warn us of dangers ahead without being spotted, it was him. But Fade and I would manage. We had before, though the stakes had never been this high.

“This way. The air smells clean.”

That was no longer a foolproof system, but we didn’t have a better option. My heart thudding like mad, I followed Fade. As he moved, he kept to the shadow of the trees, as the forest grew thick and uncut to the northwest of Soldier’s Pond with the river glimmering in the distance like a silver snake. The day warmed as it wore on, one of those perfect fall mornings with the sky so blue that it looked like a painting, yet the sun wasn’t so bright that it hurt my eyes. For that reason, I preferred this season to all others, even spring planting.

When the sun hit its zenith, Fade found a shaded spot beneath the red-tinged canopy. I broke out the bread, dried meat, and water, then we ate with efficient speed. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but we had at least four more hours of running ahead of us. Town life had softened me; I noticed the burn as I wouldn’t have before. I’d put on weight, too, softening in ways that were occasionally inconvenient, though I hadn’t minded when Fade examined those curves.

By nightfall, we had dodged four Freak patrols and outrun the trees, leaving us only open ground upon which to make camp. We could do without a fire, but it would get colder as the night wore on. I ate only a little of our packed food, thinking we might need it before the trip ended; things seldom went according to plan. The water, I downed generously, as I heard the river burbling nearby. We weren’t encamped on its banks—that would be asking for trouble since Freaks had to stop to drink—but it was close enough to be reassuring. Clean water was always a concern in the wilderness.

“Can I see the map?”

I handed it to him. “How did we do?”

“We shaved some time off the estimate. If we maintain this pace, though, we’ll be burnt to nubs when we arrive in Winterville.”

“The alternative is stretching this out. Sooner we get there, find this Dr. Wilson, and get back with his data, the faster we can put Soldier’s Pond behind us.”

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About what?” I asked.

“Raising an army.”

I tilted my head. “One town won’t be enough to defeat the horde. With the Freaks organizing and banding together, we have to do the same. It can’t matter where somebody’s from or why they want to fight. It only matters if they’re committed.”

“The colonel laughed. You really think we can do this?” While it warmed my heart to hear that instinctive “we,” the question also showed me how much the Freaks had damaged his confidence. He’d had my back in the meeting, but now the doubts emerged.

“I think we’ve lost if we don’t try,” I said.

“Then I’m with you.” He pitched his voice low so it wouldn’t carry—and in that moment of everlasting sweetness, it felt like a secret pact, Fade and me against the world.

Too soon, dark fell and cradled us in night. We had come far enough from Soldier’s Pond that there were no lights apart from moon and stars. How odd that I could’ve so quickly forgotten that darkness like this existed, beyond banishing by candles or the crafty glow of old-world lights. I held my hand up to my face, marveling at the smudgy lines. To my annoyance, I was too keyed up to sleep.

“I’ll take the first watch,” I said.

Fade shook his head. “We both need to rest. I’ll put dry branches around the perimeter. If anything crosses, the noise will wake us.”

“Good idea.” I helped him gather them, then we created a box far enough from our bedrolls that it should give us time to draw our weapons.

My time at the outpost had left me sleeping even lighter. Though I had never mentioned my bad dreams to anyone, between memories of the enclave and Fade’s abduction, I didn’t sleep well most nights anyway. Between my nighttime troubles and Fade’s precautions, I doubted the Freaks could sneak up on us. Of course, before it happened, I would’ve said they couldn’t steal fire or take two men from an armed encampment, too. Those facts left me faintly unnerved.

“It’ll be cold tonight.” I nodded as I curled into my blankets, too preoccupied to wonder at the statement. The reason for it became clear when Fade added, “You could sleep next to me.”

“Would that be all right?”

“It was before. I rolled toward you … and I might as well save us that step.”

“I’d like that if it wouldn’t bother you.”

He exhaled slowly and with obvious trepidation. “I’ll let you know.”

Feeling like I was taming a wild creature, I eased my back up to his front by increments, and I stopped when I could just barely feel him. He came a little closer on his own, so the heat was immediately palpable. Delight cascaded through me when he dropped his arm over my waist. I braced for rejection, but instead he seemed to be settling in, and I felt the warm gust of his breath against the back of my head.

“You have no idea how happy this makes me,” I whispered.

His voice was somber. “It makes me feel less broken. It helps when I can plan it and consider all the reasons it’s a good thing, first. I still quake like a child over loud noises, sudden touches, people popping out at me unexpectedly—”

“That’s normal,” I said, though I had no idea whether it was. Then it occurred to me how I could best help him—by reassuring him he wasn’t alone. “I never told you this, but I have nightmares. The blind boy from down below, usually. Since we came Topside, there are more … being taken by the Wolves, and later, when I feared I’d lost you forever … that’s the worst. I’m in the woods again, it’s dark and I’m alone, and I’m surrounded by the horde, only this time, I’m covered in my own blood, not their entrails, so they’re all staring right at me. I know I’m going to die—that I failed you and it’ll be my fault that—” The tears surprised me, choking my words.

That you die. I don’t save you.

Before this moment, it hadn’t occurred to me that my weakness would matter to him. Fade levered up on his elbow and tugged on my shoulder. I could tell he wanted me to face him. Another gentle pull, and I succumbed. His eyes were wide and soft, surprised even, in the moonlight, like he hadn’t known I could suffer the same way he did. Well, maybe not the same, but if he was damaged, I surely was too. I strangled the weeping with a few sharp breaths.

“You’re not as strong as I thought.”

“I know,” I said miserably. “Silk always said that. She told me over and over that I have a Breeder’s heart, and I’ll never be a true Huntress.”

“You’re stronger. Much as I love you, I always thought you don’t feel things like I do. But the truth is, you just hide it better. You carry it around without ever asking anybody to help shoulder it. I’m so sorry. I just … left you, hurting, and I was so worried about being worthy that I never once suspected you need me too.”

My voice came out small in the dark. “I do.”

For once, the Huntress was in complete agreement with the girl.

Fade trembled when he touched my hair. “I promise I won’t go away again, even inside my head. And you tell me about the bad dreams from now on. Please don’t hide. Not from me.”

“Then in the interest of full honesty, I really wish you’d kiss me right now.”

Apart from the blind nuzzling in his sleep, he hadn’t touched me like that since his return. Considering it hadn’t been very long since we started sparking, I missed it a whole lot. His breath misted my forehead, and Fade pressed a kiss there, delicate as a moth’s wing. That wasn’t what I had in mind, but I feared spooking him. He dusted kisses along my temple down to my cheekbone, then I couldn’t help it. I turned my head so my mouth met his. He made a soft sound, and I was in accord.

I didn’t grab on to him, though I wanted to. He had conveyed to me that touching went easier when he was in charge of it—braced for it—and so I kept my hands still. Somehow that only made me more conscious of the hot glide of his lips, and the way his body lit mine up like a summer night, all heat and starlight. His tongue grazed mine; it was all I could do not to leap on him. Proud of my self-control, I lay in the circle of his arm after he broke the kiss, dreaming of the day when I could again touch him freely.

With a soft sigh, Fade rested his forehead against mine. “We should get to sleep. It will be another long day tomorrow.”

He was more right about that than he knew.

Winterville

Freaks harried us all the next day.

Past dawn, they caught our scent, and Fade and I ran like the devil was at our heels. At one point, we crossed the river, hoping they’d lose us in the water, but no such luck. Since it was shallow enough for us to pass, they could too. I found it interesting that two people in the wilderness could draw so much attention. Was it possible they suspected the importance of our mission? If so, we were in more trouble than I’d reckoned.

With them prowling in our wake, there was no chance to stop for more than minimal food, water, and hygiene breaks. Sleep was out of the question, so we ran on into the night, until the pitch darkness made it likely we’d break an ankle on the uneven terrain. I slowed, scanning the horizon as the noises grew louder behind us. If I didn’t spot shelter, the Freaks would find us, and we’d end up fighting in the dark. My night vision could compensate but Fade might not fare as well. Therefore, I was determined to find us a place to hide.

I spun in all directions, then pointed. “This way.”

To his credit, Fade didn’t ask. He just followed me as I ran. The dot resolved as I drew closer. From this range, I made out an abandoned house, bigger than the one we’d camped in that first winter after we left the ruins. There were outbuildings on the property too; and from my history lessons, I suspected we had stumbled on a farm. Ancient machinery sat in rusted hulks, creating eerie shapes in the darkness. I ignored them as I darted past.

The door was still standing, though hanging drunkenly on its hinges. I had hoped for a secure location if not a secret one, but this would have to do. Inside the house, I found pests and scavengers, droppings and old nests. A rickety flight of stairs led up, and at the top, there was a door with a wooden crossbar. I shut it quietly and lowered it in place. If they tracked us here, we could defend the room better than an open field, plus they would expend strength and energy in breaking down the door.

“This is as good as it gets,” I said, surveying the dusty space.

My muscles trembled with weariness. In hindsight, I had no idea how Fade and I had functioned down below on so little food. No wonder my people died young.

“At least we have a roof and four walls. More than we had last night.”

But last night we had kissing.

That didn’t seem like a worthwhile protest, however. I sank down to the dirty floor, one hand on my knives. If the Freaks proved as relentless as they had been all day, they would be here soon. I didn’t suggest sleep for obvious reasons. Fade sat down near me and we listened.

He heard it first and crept to the window with me close at his heels. Through the smudged and filthy glass, I glimpsed a cluster of Freaks doggedly tracking us toward the house. I counted at least ten, a large party for the two of us. But if they had taken to traveling in small war bands, then we were lucky there weren’t more of them.

“I don’t know if I can take five of them,” I admitted in a whisper. “Is this how aging goes? First you feel incredibly tired, you weaken, and then your reactions slow—”

Fade was laughing softly. “You’re ridiculous. You’re not getting old, Deuce. It’s just been a rough run, and you got precious little rest, helping Tegan. You’re also recovering from multiple injuries, and we had an exhausting trip to Soldier’s Pond.”

Put that way, it had been a tough month. “If a straight fight is out, what should we do?”

“I have an idea,” he said.

The Freaks were at the door downstairs now. I heard them snarling in the yard, then the front door banged open. Their claws rasped on the wood floor as they prowled below us. Despite my faith in Fade’s cleverness, a chill raced through me.

“Make some noise,” he said, as he piled things up in the center of the room: broken bits of furniture and rags that might’ve been curtains, ages ago.

That seemed like a bad plan, but I trusted him enough not to argue. I stomped my feet, walking in circles, then I heard the monsters scramble up the stairs. The first body hit the door and the bar bowed with the pressure; it wasn’t strong enough to keep them out indefinitely. A snarling discussion followed, as if they were debating their options.

I understood when Fade touched his father’s lighter to the rags and dry wood. The flames curled up immediately, spreading to the floor that was riddled with dry rot. He ran over to the window and slid the sash up. With an impatient gesture, he beckoned.

“We need to get out of here and set a couple more fires downstairs. With any luck, these Freaks aren’t part of the group that burned Salvation, so they won’t understand the danger until it’s too late.”

He intends to burn them alive.

Without further hesitation, I scrambled over the sill and dangled by my fingertips. There was no tree branch to swing onto as there had been at the Oakses’ place so I dropped and hoped for the best. I landed hard, but I didn’t break anything. Fade came down more gracefully and tugged me to my feet. Time was critical. We gathered more rubbish to serve as kindling and lit the house up at both doors, front and back. The fire spread quickly, fanned by the breeze blowing through. Soon the whole building was engulfed in orange flames, creating a huge glow against the night sky. This might cause more problems for us down the line if the blaze attracted more enemies, but we wouldn’t be here to see it. I lingered only long enough to hear the monsters screaming as they burned, then I ran after Fade, who was already on the move.

“They won’t bother us again,” he said with certainty.

Still, to be safe, we traveled through the night and didn’t stop until we had a full eight hours of distance between that hunting party and us. At last I collapsed, winded, and I couldn’t go on. Fade was right there with me, his face flagged with windburn. He leaned against me, seeming not to realize how easy the gesture was, and I didn’t remind him.

“We won’t make Winterville without a break,” I panted.

“You sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

Before, he’d said we could afford to rest at the same time. His caution had to mean he thought there were more Freaks in the area. I didn’t hear or smell them, but Fade had better instincts for such things, no doubt honed by his years alone down below, where his survival depended on knowing where the monsters were before they found him.

“Just an hour or two, then you. And we’ll press on.”

He neither agreed nor argued, and I lay down. Fade rested his hand on my hair. I expected to be so conscious of him close by that I couldn’t sleep, but I underrated my exhaustion. When he jostled me a few hours later, I couldn’t believe how soundly I’d gone out.

“Any problems?”

“A few squirrels threw nuts at you.”

“That’s not the kind of problem I meant.”

He smiled. “I know, but things were quiet. Your watch?”

“I’m on it.”

Luck held long enough for Fade to catch a nap, and I had food ready—such as it was—when I woke him. We drank and ate in silence. I hoped we reached Winterville soon; and to that end, I checked the map, comparing Longshot’s notes with where we were. Sometimes it was hard to judge since he kept mostly to wagon routes whereas Fade and I ran cross-country, taking the most direct route. But near as I could tell, the Freaks had only driven us a little off course. Longshot and I hadn’t spoken much about the other settlements, so I was glad he’d written memos along the edges of his maps. It was like receiving his advice when I needed it most.

Another day of breakneck travel and dodging the monsters found us outside the city limits. I said city because it reminded me of the ruins, only it wasn’t damaged in the same way. It wasn’t nearly as big as Gotham, either. Around the edges, Winterville had buildings made of brick and stone, towering compared with the homey structures I had admired in Salvation. Well-kept stands of grass lined the avenues, which were paved with stones and neatly swept. There was no gate, either—no wooden wall or barbed metal fencing—but I mistrusted my eyes. Surely no settlement could be wholly unprotected. Fade and I exchanged a glance as we approached. I expected to encounter some security measure, some hidden threat, like a man with a rifle aimed at us, but we passed into Winterville without a single warning.

“This makes me uneasy,” I said.

But I didn’t smell anything, or at least, the scent was too faint for me to place it. If the Freaks had destroyed the place, they would still be there, and the buildings wouldn’t be so intact. The monsters tended to break windows and doors in their desperation to kill all humans hiding inside. Here, it was like nothing bad ever happened, as if Winterville was a special, blessed place. Momma Oaks would say her god smiled on it.

Just when I was starting to think nobody was here, a woman stepped out her front door. She looked startled to see us, but she lifted a hand in careful greeting. “What brings you around, strangers?”

There’s nothing stranger than this.

Fade answered for us. “The colonel sent us from Soldier’s Pond. She said Dr. Wilson has been working on a project and should have some information.”

“Ah.” The conflict in her expression cleared. “Then you want to follow this main road through town. When you come to the research annex, hang a left. Then go down two blocks, turn right, and knock on the back door of the lab.”

“What’s a block?” I asked.

She eyed me like I was simpleminded. “Two streets. The lab is where Dr. Wilson works. It’s a white building, no windows at all.”

That should be easy enough to find, though Winterville was bigger than I’d expected, based on what I’d seen of the world so far. “Are all these houses occupied?”

“No,” she said sadly. “Less than half, now.”

“Did the Muties get them?” Fade remembered to use the topside word.

“No. Since Dr. Wilson spread the pheromones, we’ve had less trouble with attacks, but … there have been other problems.”

She didn’t volunteer what those might be, and I didn’t ask. Our job wasn’t to fix Winterville, only to get the necessary information and survive the return trip. But I did wonder: “Do you have a standing military?”

Once again, she shook her head. “It’s possible to coexist peacefully with the mutants if you know how to avoid enraging them.”

With a polite smile, I decided she was insane. I followed her directions, hoping they weren’t as crazy. No matter her personal delusions, she did tell us how to find Dr. Wilson. As we stood outside his lab building, I felt properly grateful.

“It looks like a giant box,” I said.

The lack of windows made the place distinctive, but it also looked rather like a cage, a place where you hid things you didn’t want the light to reveal. Mustering my nerve, I circled around and rapped sharply on the back door, as instructed. I waited what seemed like a long time before I repeated the knock. Fade tapped his foot, no more pleased by the delay than I was.

Eventually I heard shuffling movement within and a white-haired man opened the door, squinting at me with obvious annoyance. He looked as if he hadn’t bathed in days and a noisome stench wafted from the darkness behind him.

“What do you want?” he demanded. “I’m a busy man.”

“I’m sure,” Fade said politely.

“May we come in? We bring word from the colonel in Soldier’s Pond.”

“Ah, Emilia, yes, has it been that long already? I suppose it has or you wouldn’t be here. Just let me fetch my notes, come along.” He babbled the words with scarcely a pause for breath, shuffling back the way he’d come with the apparent expectation we’d follow him with no questions asked.

We did.

Fade shut the door behind us. The slam made me flinch, but it also meant this was a good solid door, and it wouldn’t give way, no matter how the Freaks battered at it. But the crazy woman had said they didn’t have trouble with raiding—and the state of their town supported her claim, however outlandish it sounded. Dr. Wilson moved ahead of us, turning left and right, seemingly at random. The hall was dim, so I was left blinking when we stepped into a large, well-lit room.

These lights were similar to the magical-looking ones in Soldier’s Pond that they claimed were powered by the sun. But if possible, these were brighter still. I had never seen anything like them and, as Wilson peered at a mess of papers, I crept closer to the lamp. It hurt my eyes a little.

“Don’t touch it,” the doctor snapped.

I drew my hand away, guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

“It’ll burn you. I suppose you’re a savage who’s never seen electricity before?” Wilson sighed the question.

I shook my head, though I wasn’t sure what he was asking. The scientist launched into a complicated explanation about windmills, grids, power sources, and currents, and I understood none of it.

But Fade was looking at him in amazement. “My dad told me stories about the old wonders. And you got them working?”

“It’s not so great a thing, the least of my discoveries,” Wilson said modestly.

It was clear Fade had a burgeoning case of hero worship. Tegan would love to meet Wilson, I thought, and ask all kinds of questions about doctoring. But the colonel had said he wasn’t a medical man, so maybe his knowledge about windmills meant he couldn’t tell her anything about fixing the human body.

“I can report limited success in the trials,” he said, “but I wasn’t able to weaponize the pheromones as Emilia hoped, and there were … complications.”

That was only so much gibberish to me, but before I could say so, a snarl echoed through the warren of hallways. I froze; I knew that sound down to my blood and bone.

Somehow, there were Freaks in here.

Shock

I expected the old man to panic, but he didn’t look worried. He waved a hand dismissively, still rummaging in his papers. “That’s just Timothy, nothing to be alarmed about.”

Fade said, “Where we come from, sir, Muties inside a dwelling means big trouble.”

The scientist sighed. “You won’t be satisfied until I prove there’s no threat, will you? Come then. Let’s get this over with.”

He led us out of the main room, which was full of equipment for which I had no name, but I recognized the articles as belonging to the old world, which I had believed to be lost. I was a little awed that any of the things still worked and that Dr. Wilson employed them as a matter of course. Soldier’s Pond had more such artifacts than Salvation, where they eschewed old technology by choice, but this was a veritable treasure trove of functioning equipment. The Wordkeeper—the man who guarded our relics down below—would’ve been astonished.

The same bright bulbs—long strips of light that flickered—lit the halls, lending the pale walls a milky tremor. Fade stayed close and I noticed he kept a hand on the knife strapped to his thigh. Wilson opened a door on the right, and the reek was unmistakable; this reminded me of the tunnels, where the Freaks had lived and bred for years undisturbed apart from the occasional run-in with our Hunters.

I expected to find a breach in his security. Instead, I saw a row of man-size cages. They were all empty, save one. To my abject shock, a Freak occupied it. The monster rattled the bars, prompting a sigh from Dr. Wilson.

“Yes, all right. It’s past feeding time. Just be patient.” He went to a white rectangular unit and withdrew a bucket, then hauled out a substantial portion of bloody meat, which he then tossed into the cage as if the Freak were his pet.

The beast fell on the food with its claws and it ate voraciously, hunched over because the cage wasn’t quite tall enough for it to stand upright. I watched with a growing sense of horror. What was the purpose of this? Tegan had said once that she would like to study the Freaks to understand how their bodies worked and possibly to work out what drove them. Maybe that was what Dr. Wilson was trying to do here?

“This seems cruel,” I said.

“Don’t fret. Timothy is old, only a year or so left. In the wild, he would’ve already been slain for his weakness. And he’s contributing to my ability to understand their culture.”

“My friend Tegan is curious about them too. What have you learned about their eyesight?” I recalled how she’d wondered when she heard the story about the way I slipped past the horde to rescue Fade.

“It’s on par with ours, meaning not good. They rely on their olfactory senses more.”

“What do you mean, ‘not good’?” Fade asked.

“Compared with some animals, humans have terrible vision. A hawk, for instance. The mutants have an advanced sense of smell, however, akin to a hound or wolf.”

At that, the Freak glanced up from its gruesome feast, strings of meat threaded through yellow fangs. Now that Wilson had pointed it out, I could see that it was missing four teeth, crucial ones for ripping and tearing. From context, I figured he meant their society—and once, I’d have found the idea absurd—that they could have customs and rituals similar to ours, but that was before I’d glimpsed the Freak village hidden in the trees. I realized that Dr. Wilson could probably give us a better picture of what happened to the world … and what we could do about it.

So I put aside my shock and asked, “We came to retrieve information for the colonel, but I wonder if you could answer some questions first.”

“As long as it’s not about Timothy.”

The Freak looked between us as if it recognized that Wilson was talking about it. I shivered. “It’s about what happened before, actually.”

“You want a history lesson? Well, I have time to indulge you. Let’s have a drink then and I’ll answer your questions.”

Fade was still staring at the Freak, but he followed when we left the room. The thing whimpered as Wilson pulled the door shut, like it was lonely. That bothered me too. I didn’t want to sympathize with the monsters, not even a little; that would make it harder to kill them.

This time Wilson took us to the kitchen, though it was unlike any I had ever been in before. There was no hearth for cooking, only more rectangular units like the one where he’d gotten the meat. It was bright and clean, though, and he gestured for us to take a seat at the table. I did, feeling like the world had once again stopped functioning according to the rules I knew. Fade perched beside me; he looked every bit as flummoxed as I felt.

Wilson turned a lever and water gushed into the pot he was holding. The scientist moved a dial and concentric rings kindled to a glowing orange. It was astonishing. Then he set the pot to boil; at least that much hadn’t changed. He joined us at the table with an expectant look.

“Go on, then. I’ll grant you the time it takes the water to heat and our drinks to steep.”

I nodded. “At this point, sir, I’m not even sure what to ask. So whatever you can tell me about what left Gotham in ruins and Muties everywhere, well, I guess I’d find that helpful.”

“You really don’t know anything?” he asked, visibly surprised.

“Only what we were able to glean from old papers, but they weren’t clear,” Fade put in.

“Then let me be concise. A long time ago, in labs similar to this one, scientists developed all kinds of terrible things. You probably don’t know what biological or chemical weapons are, do you?” He sounded like he pitied our ignorance.

I squared my shoulders. We were trying to amend that lack, weren’t we? “I don’t.”

Fade shook his head silently. His father’s stories only went so far, and he was young when his mother died. There was a limit to what you could learn when the people who raised you didn’t know the truth, either.

“They came in many forms—gas, powder, liquid—but they served only one purpose, death and destruction. Whenever such things are created, bad men want to test them. That led to war among the great nations of the earth. Are you with me so far?”

I could tell he was simplifying matters for us, and while somebody else might be insulted, I appreciated it. What good were answers if I didn’t understand them? So I nodded and said, “I’ve heard part of this story, but with a religious slant. My foster father told me men were full of hubris and meddled with matters best left to God.”

“Some might agree with him,” Wilson said.

“Edmund also said there were horseless carriages and flying wagons,” Fade offered doubtfully.

“He’s correct, but they were called cars and planes. You can find wreckage of them to this day.”

“Do you still use them?” I asked.

The scientist shook his head. “Fossil fuels are no longer in production. The only reason we’re able to continue using technology that runs on electricity is because we’re positioned favorably for our windmills to generate enough power to keep the town going.”

“What’s a windmill?” Fade wanted to know.

“If you came in from Soldier’s Pond, you won’t have seen them.” Wilson got a scrap of paper and sketched, then he launched into a complicated explanation of how the thing turned in the wind and that generated the power.

I had no interest in that. As the pot whistled, I grasped that the man’s limited patience with our curiosity would soon be coming to an end. He had important work to do. “What about the Muties? How did the world end up like this?”

“I mentioned the war,” he said, spooning some herbs into three cups. “It was … long. But it wasn’t fought with guns and bombs. We tested new horrors on one another, time and again, usually in the cities, where the populations were highest. The last of these synchronized strikes was more virulent than anticipated.”

“Virulent?” Fade asked.

“Powerful. It took effect quickly and the results were horrific. A vast number of the population died and the bioweapon created lesser plagues that troubled us for years to come. Governments created quarantine centers and tried to control the contagion, but all such measures failed. In fact, one vaccine even made the problem worse.” Here, his account faltered. “My forefathers were responsible for part of that … and I’ve continued their terrible work.”

“You must’ve had a good reason,” I said.

He lifted a shoulder, continuing the account. “But not everyone died. The pathogen affected others differently. Some DNA chains mutated, a systemic devolution. They became primal and savage, concerned only with the urge to feed.”

“The Freaks,” I breathed, forgetting to use their Topside name. Though I didn’t grasp everything, I had the gist.

The scientist looked interested. “Is that what you call them? Fitting, I suppose. And, yes.” He paused as if trying to figure out how to phrase a complicated idea so that we’d understand. “Others simply changed. DNA is the building block of our bodies, containing all the code that makes us who we are. It’s the reason you have brown hair and blue-gray eyes. It also carries incredible amounts of data regarding your ancestors and lineage.”

I stared at the back of my hand, awed. “Can you read this code?”

Fade’s eyes were wide because this sounded like more of Edmund’s stories. “Can the code be broken?”

“It’s not cipher in that sense, but, yes, if I had the proper equipment, I could show you what I mean.” He took his pencil and sketched out what looked like a long figure eight on its side. “This is what I’m talking about.”

“And it’s hidden in our bodies?” I asked.

“Somehow I don’t think this is pertinent to what you really want to know. You’re curious about the changed folk, yes?”

I nodded, remembering Jengu and the small people who had saved my life down below. They’d been changed, definitely, but not monstrous like the Freaks, so I understood what Wilson was talking about.

“This is an unproven hypothesis, of course, but I suspect that an alternate evolutionary track was activated in their DNA. Some other animal in their genetic history took precedence, creating a divergent physiology, and since the pathogen was so powerful, it forced these changes much quicker than should’ve been possible in nature, occasionally with horrific results. Such a shift would naturally take millions of years.”

“So the world was poisoned,” Fade said, “and it made monsters out of some people and changed others, and a lot more died?”

“In a nutshell, yes.”

“But why is everything so broken?” I asked.

Wilson strained the leaves out of our drinks and brought them to the table. I made up my mind to sip slowly, so I could keep accruing information. I wasn’t altogether sure whether I believed him, but his account dovetailed with Edmund’s just without the religious shadings. Fade cupped his hands around his mug, and I wondered if he felt as overwhelmed as I did.

“After the quarantine centers failed, governments tried to protect their dignitaries. Evacuations of the wealthy, influential, and powerful took place in cities around the world.”

“Leaving Gotham empty apart from the people who were expendable,” Fade said grimly.

“Yes. They were left to fend for themselves without support or infrastructure.”

“Are those governments still out there?” I asked.

“To the best of my knowledge, no. The information I have comes from historical records. Those new enclaves fell in the chaos that followed, and new towns and settlements sprang up, populated by pockets of survivors.”

“Like Salvation and Soldier’s Pond?”

The scientist nodded. “Granted, since I have no way of communicating long distance, I cannot tell you what it’s like in other parts of the world. But if things were different elsewhere—and if they had the means—surely they would’ve made contact by now.”

That made sense to me. “How do you know all of this?”

“Journals. My people have always been scientists and they kept meticulous notes on everything that occurred, insofar as they were able. Would you like to see them?” When I shook my head, Wilson looked troubled. “I wish I had a child to whom to pass on this legacy. My wife passed and I never found anyone—oh, never mind. That isn’t why you came.”

In that moment, I saw him as he was, an old man surrounded by relics of a lost age, irrevocably lonely with only a caged Freak for company. He might be the smartest person I’d ever met, but he was also the saddest. I restrained the urge to pat his hand, thinking he wouldn’t appreciate it.

Fortunately Fade distracted the man from thinking about his dead wife. “I have a couple more questions, if you don’t mind. Unrelated.”

“Go ahead.”

“My parents both died of sickness in the ruins. It swept through and carried a lot of people with it. Was that one of the lesser plagues you were talking about?”

“The initial deployment was such a long time ago,” Wilson said gently. “So I rather doubt it. But there are a number of diseases that could account for it. What were the symptoms?” Fade told him, then the scientist asked a number of questions about their living conditions and the water they drank. “It sounds like dysentery, but I can’t be sure.”

Fade didn’t look as if it helped to have a name for what took his parents away. But it was good to know that our stories down below were so much rubbish—that the poison that started the problems had long since vanished, leaving the world to heal as best it might.

“Why didn’t I die too?” he demanded. “I drank the same water, lived as they did.”

Wilson shrugged. “Perhaps your immune system was better. Or possibly you were just lucky. Do you recall whether you were sick at all?”

Fade shook his head, obviously frustrated. “Maybe a little, but never as bad as my mother, first, and then years later, my dad.”

“You said you had multiple questions. What’s the other?” Though we were obviously nursing our drinks, I could tell the man was eager to get back to work by the jogging of his knee.

“The Muties … why are they getting smarter?” The moment Fade asked that, I wished I’d thought to do so.

Wilson appeared delighted with this question. “Again, this is an unproven theory, but I suspect the mutants have what I’d call genetic memory.”

Fade and I swapped looks, then I said it for both of us. “I don’t understand.”

“Genetic memory is when a species recalls everything its ancestors know, so with each successive generation, the offspring is a little smarter than those that came before.”

“So that would be like if I remembered everything my dam and sire knew, and their dam and sire…” I trailed off, overwhelmed by the idea.

“We shouldn’t have seen such a shift so quick, though,” Fade protested.

“Ordinarily, no. But the mutant life cycle is much shorter than a normal human’s. I suspect that’s the price they pay for their exceptional speed, strength, and olfactory sense.”

“How short?” I asked.

“Two years of childhood. Four to maturity, and they rarely live to be older than ten.”

“But … the ones down below didn’t change that fast,” I said.

“I imagine there were fewer resources, so they were probably starving. From extensive dissection, I’ve deduced that they’ve evolved into optimal predators, but in times of privation, their bodies cannot cope. They cannibalize their own systems to survive, but once they begin digesting their cerebral proteins, cognitive ability cannot help but suffer.”

Fade said quietly, “They look, smell, and act different now. The ones we’re fighting seem organized and they’re not covered in sores anymore.”

“I can only guess, young sir, but I’d say their evolutionary shift has stabilized and they’re turning into beings capable of competing with humans on all levels.”

Discharge

Those questions exhausted Wilson’s patience. He downed his drink in one gulp, then escorted us back to the main room, where he returned to gathering up documents for the colonel. Eventually he presented us with a leather folio, similar to the one that housed my precious maps. The scientist wore a hard expression as he handed the papers over to us.

“Make sure you tell Emilia that the pheromones aren’t a solution. The complications I spoke of earlier have a significant impact on the general populace.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

He sighed. “For some, exposure to mutant pheromones imbues certain irresistible urges. They become violent and in some cases … feral.”

“So they attack and try to eat you?” I was horrified. “How is that better?”

I’d much rather fight Freaks; at least I understood why they hated and wanted to kill us. If they truly remembered everything their people had suffered over the years, then I was right, and they did blame humanity for their pain. That didn’t mean I’d let them annihilate us.

“It’s not,” Wilson said. “I thought if I distilled a compound, based on excretions from the mutant endocrine system, it might make them think this territory was already occupied by their brethren and leave it without need for conflict. That part of the spray works as intended. But I didn’t anticipate how certain human physiologies would react.”

Of that, I only understood that he was coating the area in Freak-stink and it was driving his townsfolk crazy. “That’s the colonel’s plan? Her soldiers will massacre each other.”

“If they’re susceptible. So make sure you tell her, this is not the miracle cure she’s looking for.”

Fade laughed. “She’s not thrilled with us right now. I can’t guarantee she’ll listen.”

“Since I’m not sending any of the treatment with you, she’ll have to send another envoy if she wants to discuss the matter further. I hope not,” Wilson added, looking worried. “I don’t have the personnel to defend the lab if she decides to take the compound by force.”

“Destroy it,” I said flatly.

I could see he was conflicted because it was an idea that he’d had that actually worked, if not as intended, but in the end, he came to the same conclusion. The colonel couldn’t be permitted to unleash this plague on Soldier’s Pond. People using questionable mixtures on one another was what started this trouble in the first place, a long time ago. We didn’t need another mess before we cleaned this one up.

“Now I need you to go. I have work to do and a round of experiments ready to check.”

I put the packet of papers in my pack. “Thanks for your time, Dr. Wilson. We appreciate it more than you can know.”

The old man actually colored. “It was a pleasure to shed some light on the world for you. I don’t often get to play the role of instructor. It will be safer if you travel during the day, but I suppose you already know that. Mutants aren’t any more nocturnal than we are, though there are occasional exceptions. There’s a woman who will rent you a room for the night, if you have anything of value to trade.” He gave us directions, then added, “Stay out of the south side.”

There was no need to tell us that it was full of feral humans, who might try to eat our faces. “Why didn’t you just kill them?” I asked.

“Because I’m working on a cure. It was more humane to pen them up until I can figure out how to heal them.” But he didn’t look hopeful anymore, so maybe it was more that he couldn’t bear to admit failure and order those poor people to be killed.

I read the caution and regret in his eyes as Wilson lifted his hand to us in farewell. Fade led the way out of the lab, following the turns perfectly. He had an excellent sense of direction Topside, better than mine. Soon enough we were standing outside the house where we could rent a room; I was less sure what we would use to do that. Before knocking, I rummaged in my pack and then looked at Fade.

“What do you think she’ll want?”

Fade shrugged. “Let’s go ask. We need a good night’s sleep before starting the trip back.”

I noticed he didn’t say home, and I felt the same way. At best we were biding time in Soldier’s Pond. Idly I wondered how they’d controlled the savages in the southern section of Winterville, but I didn’t intend to go see how bad it was. It did explain why the place was so quiet, however; I imagined there had been casualties.

Fade rapped on the door and within moments, a young woman answered, no more than five or six years older than I was. She wasn’t what I’d expected; I supposed I had been looking for someone like Momma Oaks, as she was the one who sheltered us when we first arrived in Salvation. I cleared my throat.

“Dr. Wilson said you’d be willing to put us up for the night.”

“Did he now? Then I’d better not make a liar out of the old goat. Come on in. I’m Laurel, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

Inside, her home was cheerful, decorated with cushions in colorful fabrics. The furniture was old and battered, however, which told me they didn’t have many skilled woodworkers in Winterville. She waited for us to take a seat, then said, “What are you offering for a night’s lodging?”

“News,” I said.

By her expression, I’d surprised her. “If you don’t find what I know useful or interesting, we’ll camp outside. No harm done.”

The woman nodded. “That sounds fair.”

Quietly I summarized the sacking of Salvation, the gathering horde, and the unrest in Soldier’s Pond. Then I finished with “I realize you have the treatment that’s supposed to keep the Muties away, and so far it’s working, but that’s not exactly a permanent solution.”

“No,” she said shakily. “It’s not. There are those in town who will prize this information highly, so I can use it as leverage.”

I didn’t ask what she meant by that. “Is it enough for you to put us up for the night?”

“I’ll throw in soup for each of you,” she said. “Let me show you to your room.”

Fade and I were tired enough that we went straight to sleep and only roused when she knocked much later to tell us it was time for the evening meal. We ate quickly, then retired once more. I felt like a miser, hoarding sleep, because it would certainly be scarce on the return trip.

In the morning, Laurel packed us some bread for the road. I hesitated, as I hadn’t discussed this idea with Fade, but it seemed right to me. So in parting I said, “Will you let the men in town know we’re raising an army in Soldier’s Pond? Anyone who wants to enlist should make his way there and can march with us. There’s no way around it—we have to fight.”

If the men thought I meant the colonel, well, that wasn’t my fault. A flickering look from Fade told me he’d caught the slight deception, but he didn’t say anything.

Laurel nodded. “A few might make the journey. We’re not warriors by and large.”

“That’s all we could ask.”

Since we’d slept almost a full day and eaten well, the return trip went smoother. Freaks still prowled in our wake, but we outran them and in some circumstances outsmarted them. It took us two and a half days of constant running with only short breaks for food and rest. I didn’t sleep more than three hours at a stretch until I saw the barbed metal fencing glimmer in the morning sunshine.

“We made it,” I said to Fade, pushing out an exhausted breath.

I slowed to a walk then as the shout went up from the sentries not to shoot us. Reassuring. Freak corpses lay at irregular intervals outside the perimeter. So a hunting party had tested the defenses here at Soldier’s Pond while we were gone; they’d fared poorly too, but it wouldn’t be long before others came in search of their lost brethren. I foresaw a repeat of what happened in Salvation, though these warriors could withstand a longer siege.

As we approached, they neutralized the defenses long enough for us to enter. Fade quickened his step, no doubt eager to have this errand done. I agreed with him. But we didn’t get to the colonel before Tegan found us. And I had never seen her so angry.

“You left me!” she shouted, then she hauled off and hit me.

I was so stunned that I didn’t even try to block the blow, so she punched me square in the nose. The resultant crunch hurt like the devil, blood trailed down over my upper lip and into my mouth. Gaping at her, I scrambled in my bag for a scrap of cloth to blot it up.

“You’ve been training,” I said.

“Not really.” By her shocked expression, she hadn’t expected her strike to land, and now she was looking faintly horrified by her own violence. But Tegan didn’t let it sidetrack her from her grievance. “I can’t believe after everything we’ve been through, you just took off and didn’t tell me. Do you have any clue how worried we were?”

“I was coming back,” I said guiltily.

“We didn’t know that! Your mother has been crying off and on for two days. Two days! What’s the matter with you? Don’t you understand how much the Oakses love you? If the Tuttles had survived, there’s no way I would … would ever—” And then Tegan broke down, tears trickling down her cheeks.

I hugged her because I didn’t know what else to do and whispered, “I’m sorry. I am.”

“Don’t tell me. Tell Momma Oaks and Edmund and Rex.” Tegan speared Fade with a hard stare next. “And you. I’d think you would know better. Deuce has all the natural instincts of a wild partridge but you had a family once. Why did you let her do this?”

He shuffled, and it kind of delighted me to see him so nonplused. Finally he mumbled, “You try stopping her from doing something once her mind is made up.”

By rights he could’ve blamed the colonel, who was behind all of this. It was to his credit that he just accepted her anger without excuses. We had hurt the people who cared about us, and it didn’t matter why. Time to make amends. The colonel could wait.

It took two hours of eating, explanation, and constant apology before we were forgiven. In the end, I think my family was just so glad to see me back and alive that they couldn’t hold on to the anger. Plus, when Momma Oaks saw my swollen nose and two black eyes, her maternal sympathy got the best of her. She fussed at Tegan for picking on me, which I found hilarious.

But my mother wasn’t happy when I said, “I have to go see the colonel before she sends somebody to haul me in. Tarrying could be grounds for her deciding not to honor our deal.”

Edmund was saying, “What deal?” with a worried look as I hurried out, Fade close behind me.

We found Colonel Park in her usual spot, poring over the maps that tracked Freak movements nearby. “I take it you’ve seen some action in our absence,” I said.

She shrugged. “Nothing we can’t handle yet. Do you have my data?”

I handed her the packet, then repeated Dr. Wilson’s warning.

From her narrowed eyes, she thought I was making up the obstacle, until she broke open the seals and started reading. Then her frown became a scowl but I saw the worry lurking underneath. When a warrior came up against a foe that couldn’t be defeated under existing conditions, it was genuine cause for alarm. If her men found out how poorly equipped they were to face the horde, discipline would break down. Yet I sympathized with her position. She couldn’t strip the town of all defenders and go on the march, leaving the place unprotected. The colonel was between a rock and a hard place, right enough.

“What was it like in Winterville?” she asked, surprising me.

I guessed the reason behind the question right away. “Unnaturally quiet. I’m guessing they had twice the population before he spread the potion. Fade and I only saw three souls while we were there … most were hiding, I gather, due to the problems in the south.”

With a weary sigh, she set the information aside, bowing her head. I saw the moment she decided to abandon the idea, choosing not to sacrifice her own people. I liked her better for it too. “Then this was a waste of time. I suppose you want to address the men now.”

I inclined my head. “I held up my end of the bargain.”

“Let me gather them for you. But don’t blame me when they laugh you off the platform.”

Nerves fluttered in my stomach. This was the real beginning of our resistance. I felt it in my blood and bones, but it could also end before it began. Talking had never been my specialty; I was good with weapons, not words.

“You can do this,” Fade said softly.

At his faith in me, I squared my shoulders and followed the colonel out. She led us to the training yard, where she stopped somebody and said, “Gather all the men except the sentries.”

It took a while to muster soldiers from the far corners of town. By their mien, they were annoyed at being dragged from their duties. Soon enough those looks would be turned on me.

The colonel climbed up on the platform that she used for addressing her troops. “The messenger from Salvation has a few words. Please give her the same attention and courtesy you’d offer me.”

My stomach lurched as I climbed up. I was alone up here, and they’d think I was just a stupid brat, being absurd and presumptuous. Dryness prickled in my throat. Then I spotted my family in the back of the crowd, eyes focused on me. Oddly Momma Oaks seemed proud and Edmund was nodding. They had no idea what I was up to, and they still thought I could succeed.

I pushed out a breath and raised my voice to carry. “Some of you don’t know me. I’ll keep my story short. I come from the underground tribes, a place so dark that you can’t even imagine. I had never seen sunlight until I was fifteen. But I came to the surface and I survived when everybody told me it was impossible.”

A rumble greeted those words; plainly they doubted me. I ignored it and carried on. “I found people who wanted to kill me in the ruins of Gotham. Girls didn’t fight in the gangs … but I did. And I survived. I made a friend out of one of those savages and brought him with me.”

Stalker met my eyes and jerked a nod, his scars in sharp relief compared with the smooth faces around him. I took courage from his anger. This time I wasn’t sure if it was for me.

“We only had stories of safety to the north. It should’ve been impossible for us to find help in such a vast wilderness. There were Muties everywhere, and we had no maps. Yet we did. Longshot guided us to Salvation, and they took us in. I fought for them with my last breath, but it wasn’t enough. They sent me to fetch aid, and I was too late, too slow. That haunts me.”

I had no fancy words to persuade them, only the truth of my life. So I dug into my pocket and produced my bloodstained playing card. “I’m called Deuce, and I take my name from the two of spades. I’m telling you now, from the things I’ve survived and the places I’ve been, that there is no such thing as impossible. According to everyone else, I shouldn’t be here. But I am.”

The yard was deathly quiet, and the soldiers had lost their irritation. In some faces I read incredulity and amusement. Others were merely listening. One man tapped his foot.

I gathered the last of my nerve and concluded, “It’s only a sure defeat when you stop trying. We need an army who fights for the whole world, not one town, and I mean to raise it. Your colonel has given me her blessing to recruit from your number. If you join up, from this point, your loyalty will be to this cause only. Step forward, brave souls. It’s time to do the impossible once again.”