Horde

Absurd

When my speech ended, I hoped for a massive outpouring of support. I gave them everything I knew to be true, and in return, most didn’t even take the time to laugh at me. They went back to their duties and their old routines. Feeling like a fool, I hopped down from the platform, my stomach a knot of embarrassment and shame.

One soldier said, “This is absurd. I can’t believe the colonel thought this was worth our time. That girl can’t even defend herself from a punch in the nose.”

Humiliation cascaded through me. My story meant nothing to them. They probably didn’t believe me, and that was a fresh pain. Nobody had mistaken me for a liar before.

Once the training yard cleared, a few people lingered. I eyed them with caution, wondering if they meant to pick a fight. But as I stepped closer, I recognized them: Morrow, Spence, Tully, and Thornton. Every army has a beginning, no matter how humble. Wary, I picked a path across to them.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“We’re in,” Tully said, speaking, I presumed, for all of them.

“Why?”

Thornton wore a grim look. “I’m an old man, and I have no family left. I’d rather go out fighting Muties than from some ailment nobody can figure out how to cure.”

“We like to live dangerously.” Spence exchanged a look with Tully that I didn’t know how to interpret. But it didn’t really matter why they were joining up, only that they could fight, and I’d seen them in action.

“And you?” I asked Morrow.

“At heart I’m a teller of tales,” he said. “And this looks like it might be a good one.”

That could be entertaining in the field, and I already knew he was good in tough situations. So I inclined my head. “I’m waiting on word from Winterville. We’ll give them time to make the journey, then head out. So you’ll want to rest up.”

“Yes, sir,” Tully said, and she didn’t seem to be sarcastic about it, either.

“I’ll send word the night before we march. That’s all.”

It seemed odd to be giving orders to people who were all older than I was, but I figured I’d get used to it. With Fade at my side, I went across the yard to talk to Edmund and Momma Oaks. I could see in her eyes that she was scared for me, but her mouth was smiling. That looked like love to me, when you put a brave face on your heart breaking because it was what the other person needed.

“There are other towns,” Edmund said bracingly.

Momma Oaks nodded. “These men just don’t have enough imagination to grasp what you’re trying to do. They’ve been following orders too long. It will be different elsewhere.”

In my heart I wasn’t too sure of that but I appreciated their support. “There might be some men coming from Winterville.”

“What was that like?” Edmund asked, fascinated.

He seemed almost as interested in my stories as I had been in his, early on. As we walked, Fade and I took turns explaining what we’d seen and learned. Both Edmund and Momma Oaks marveled over the electric lights and windmills and Freaks being kept in cages. Tegan and Stalker accompanied us, listening to the account.

Stalker stopped me outside the Oakses’ house. I hoped this was about repairing our friendship, but judging from his expression, it probably wasn’t. This square structure without a hearth for cooking made me sad. Momma Oaks would never be happy in Soldier’s Pond; they’d taken away her life’s work, much as Salvation had done to me, but at least she was safe.

“Go on inside,” I said to Fade and my folks.

They did, after Fade gave me a meaningful look.

“I hear recruitment didn’t go as well as you hoped. My opinion, you went too soft. You appealed to their better natures. You should’ve called them cowards lacking the spine to take the fight to the Freaks. That would’ve motivated more of them.”

I folded my arms. “If you just came to mock me, I’m not interested.”

He shook his head. “That’s not why I’m here. It’s only advice for next time.”

“Then what do you want?”

“There will be no gentle words between us. No more of me begging for a scrap of your affection.”

“I never asked you to,” I protested.

“Fair enough. This is what I propose—and you should be aware I have another offer on the table. You give me command of the scouts and accept that I’m not answerable to you. I lead my own men. I’ll fight with your group, but we’re free to come and go, pick our own battles.”

“If I don’t agree?”

“Then I’m staying in Soldier’s Pond. I don’t expect you care. But they appreciate my skills. I won’t be in charge of the scouts, but I can work my way up. And it’ll get me away from you.” He said it like distance was a necessary cure for a disease against which he’d been fighting a losing battle.

“Maybe it will be better if you do stay here. I don’t want to hurt you, Stalker. I never wanted that. Except when you first took us. Then I intended to kill you.”

A reluctant laugh escaped him. “And I intended for you to lead the Wolves alongside me. I figured you’d see the advantages soon enough.”

“No,” I said gently. “I’d have died fighting you. I don’t have it in me to bend. For me, it’s always been Fade. It always will be.”

He nodded, his eyes cold. “I understand that. And I can live with it. Do we have a deal?”

Part of me didn’t think it was a good idea to take him along, but he was an excellent scout. Only the fact that he wanted to lead his own men had driven him to offer this agreement. He had been in power in the Wolves, and he didn’t much like following orders, which he’d have to do if he stayed in Soldier’s Pond and formally joined their ranks. While the scouts might have more freedom, there was still a chain of command, and Stalker wanted to be at the top.

“Right now, there’s nobody for you to lead, but I accept.”

He nodded. “That’s enough. I’ve seen what you can accomplish.”

That sounded an awful lot like a vote of confidence. Before I could thank him for it, he turned and strode away. In time, I hoped he would get over his hurt feelings. I missed training with him. Fade stepped out of the house when I approached the door.

“What was that about?” But his tone wasn’t sharp or fearful; and that, too, was a relief. I didn’t need to deal with jealousy on top of everything else.

Quickly I summarized the offer Stalker had made.

“He’ll do well with that, provided we can find him some scouts.”

I sighed. “That’s far from sure, at this point.”

“At least you’re taking action. Every big thing starts small.”

Maybe I was just tired, but that seemed profound. Fade took a breath, then framed my face in his hands, contact initiated wholly by him. I gazed up at him, enjoying the warmth of his palms against my cheeks. Then he brushed a kiss against my brow, amusement in his dark eyes.

“Tegan got you good.”

“She did.” I ducked my head. “But I had it coming.”

He kissed my temple next, and I closed my eyes with a shiver of pleasure. “Thanks, Deuce.”

“What for?”

“Being patient. I don’t know why, but it’s better and easier when I’m in control. When you just let me—I don’t know.” Fade’s hand curled into a fist because he was obviously frustrated at not being able to explain. “It’s just better.”

“That’s all I care about. If it means I have to wait for you to hold my hand or to kiss me, that’s fine. I fully believe there will come a time when you don’t even think about it anymore.”

“It might be a while,” he warned me.

I smiled. “Then I’ll just have to depend on your urge to touch me.”

“You can count on that.” His dark eyes held a hungry light, like he wanted to eat me up. I rather wanted to let him.

That night, we all slept in the same room, the small barrack house my folks had been assigned. Edmund snored a little; so did Rex. At some point, Fade climbed down from his bunk and into mine. Since he was warm, I didn’t protest … and since he wanted to be close to me, I took it as a personal victory. His arms went around me, so natural that I drifted back to sleep at once. When I woke, he was gone, probably down at the workshop with the other two men.

Momma Oaks was listlessly sweeping the floor, which didn’t need it, when I rolled out of my bed and bundled up some clean clothes, intending to head to the washhouse. Impulsively, I went over and hugged her. She squeezed me back, patting my shoulders as if I were the one who needed comfort. And maybe I did. Yesterday sure hadn’t gone as I’d hoped.

“I’ll find us a better place,” I promised her. “Just hold on, and when the war’s over, I’ll look for a town that will suit us all better.”

She smiled. “It’d be impossible to have a better daughter or for me to love you more.”

Stepping back, I took her hands in mine, feeling so many things that I just didn’t even have the words for them. “I’m sorry about Salvation. I wish I could’ve done more, if I had stopped that Freak who stole the fire—”

“Oh, honey, no. Put that burden down. It’s not yours to carry. The Lord sends trials as he sees fit. In my heart, I thought you could try harder to fit in Salvation. I love you but I didn’t always understand. Perhaps this is His way of making me see.”

“You think he took away your home in order to teach you something?” That sounded like a mean, petty thing to do for someone who supposedly had all the power.

“Could be. But speculating is pointless. His ways are beyond our understanding.”

Nodding, I stepped back and collected my things. I would have to rush to get cleaned up and make the breakfast service in the mess hall. I ran to the bathhouse, past the center of town, where a number of houses had been demolished, and that was where they planted their crops. In addition, there were gardens just inside the metal fencing. Soldier’s Pond made excellent use of the space they defended. It was efficient, certainly. There was also a pen full of livestock, but they used the meat sparingly from what I’d seen. I hurried through my shower and arrived as the last latecomers joined the line. I didn’t like this part of our new life; I preferred Salvation’s way of eating meals at home. Cooked in such quantities, the food was bland and savorless.

You won’t be eating it much longer.

Skimming the crowd, I saw no one I knew until Morrow beckoned me over. He was sitting alone with a sheaf of papers, his fingers ink-stained. As I approached, he nudged them aside, making room for my plate. I sat down on the bench opposite him.

“You weren’t kidding,” I said, surprised.

“When people stop writing down their stories, the soul of the world is lost.”

“So what was it like, growing up here? Did you have a choice about becoming a soldier?” I wasn’t clear how that worked.

“I’m not from here, and I’m not one, really. I come and go like the wind.” Though his tone was light, he definitely meant it.

“But the colonel sent you with us to Salvation, among her best men.”

“You saw my work with the foil. Would you not agree that I have skill?” I couldn’t argue that. He went on, “And she didn’t send me. I chose to go. Big difference.”

I raised a brow. “Because you thought it would make a good story?”

Morrow indicated the scattered papers. “What do you think I’m writing?”

I didn’t know how I felt about that. On some level it seemed disrespectful to make an entertainment out of what the folks of Salvation had suffered. But another part of me said it was good and fitting that they would be remembered. Mulling the two conflicting thoughts, I downed the rest of my food without much enjoyment.

“Thanks for the company,” I said, rising. “I’ll be in touch in a few days, once I see how many men are coming from Winterville.”

“Not many, I expect. It’s why Dr. Wilson was working on a peaceful solution to the Mutie problem.”

I wondered how he knew about the pheromones or if he knew anything at all. Morrow might be testing me to see what he could learn for his blasted stories. While I needed his blade, I didn’t fully trust him or his motives; he had his own reasons for joining me. Still, it was better to have men who could think for themselves instead of those who followed blindly.

Three days later, four men arrived from Winterville. They were exhausted and two of them were wounded from a skirmish with the Freaks. Tegan treated their wounds, which weren’t serious. They were all angry when they realized the message hadn’t come from the colonel, but they’d all lost their families to the madness Dr. Wilson created when he sprayed the town. So they had nothing to go home for and a strong reason to fight.

The next day, as we assembled in the training yard, I did a head count. Four from Soldier’s Pond. Four men from Winterville. When Tegan presented herself without a word, angry eyes daring me to protest, that gave us four from the ruins of Gotham. That made twelve—such a small number to set out toward such a big goal. My family came out to watch us go. There was no fanfare; the soldiers never paused in their work or their drills. They probably figured we were going to die.

It was up to us to prove them wrong.

Otterburn

I had never been in charge of anything before.

So when Stalker stepped in and interrogated all the new men from Winterville, then claimed two of them for the scouts, I let it happen, partly because we needed skilled sentries, and partly because I felt guilty that I didn’t care about him the way he wanted. That was an illogical reaction and I had to banish it. But it would help the rest of the squad, small as it was, to have good intel. The scouts would still fight when it came down to it. Before we left, I had checked the maps and memorized the route to Otterburn. It wasn’t far from Soldier’s Pond, only a day up the river via hard march. Wagons would take much longer. I didn’t anticipate trouble, but it was best to be prepared.

“Stalker, would you mind—”

“We’ll scout,” he said.

His team hurried off to check the path ahead. I understood why he didn’t let me finish. He was making it clear this mission resulted from his choice, not because I asked.

I turned to the rest. “Let’s go. We’ll make Otterburn by nightfall if we push.”

Tegan fell into step, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

“You were mad. I understand why.”

“I figured you’d stop me.”

“I scared you and hurt your feelings. That deserved a smack in the face.” I smiled at her, wincing a little at the way it pulled my sore nose. “I’m just glad you came with us anyway. We’ll need a medic something fierce before this is through.”

“I don’t just want to patch you up,” she said. “I want to be able to defend myself. I don’t want always to be the weakest one in the group.”

I nodded. “We’ll figure out what weapon works best for you and go from there.”

Tegan didn’t hug me around the shoulders because we were soldiers now, but I could tell she wanted to. “Thanks, Deuce.”

The scouts found us a clear path to Otterburn, but there were Freaks sniffing all along the river. It bothered me that I could no longer smell them as strongly, only a whisper of corruption carried on the wind. Things were changing faster than I could keep up. Part of me doubted my ability to complete this task I’d set for myself.

A smaller voice was saying, Just find a safe place to hide. You can’t save these towns, and you’re crazy for considering it.

Then the Huntress squeezed out the cowardice, reminded me I’d rather die fighting, like Thornton said. If that was the case, well, at least like Longshot, I’d make my death mean something. Living down below, I wouldn’t have had that many years left anyway. So I’d make them count Topside; the Huntress who would always be a part of me, as much as my scars, wouldn’t let me do less.

The sun was sinking below the horizon when we arrived at the edge of town, long orange and pink streaks staining the sky. Otterburn was more like Salvation than other settlements I’d seen. The buildings were rough-hewn, but there were no walls here, no whitewash either. The wood was weathered, but it wasn’t like Winterville. There were people in the mud lanes, going about their business. Yet this was a small settlement without visible means of protection. The proximity to Soldier’s Pond meant they might receive aid in times of trouble, but I wouldn’t care to rely on a neighbor’s goodwill. I counted thirty buildings, total, twenty-five of which looked like people lived in them. The others were probably for tradecraft. Given the apparent lack of precautions, I had no idea how they hadn’t been wiped off the map.

I turned to the recruits from Soldier’s Pond, including Morrow in the look. “What do you all know about this place? Have you been here before?”

Tully and Spence shook their heads, and he said, “Our patrols didn’t rove this far.”

“I did trade runs for a while,” Thornton said, “so I’ve been here, but it was a long time ago. I retired from the road after my boys were born.” A flicker of sorrow shifted his set expression, a reminder that he had come along because he had nobody left in Soldier’s Pond.

The storyteller added, “I’ve been here, but I didn’t see anything worth staying for.”

He was likely the most traveled member of our group, making me glad he’d volunteered. “Do any of you remember the layout?”

“Nope,” Thornton said.

Morrow admitted, “I didn’t make any mental notes. This place is a bit of an eyesore.”

“No matter. We’ll figure it out,” I murmured.

Tegan was still beside me, though she was limping after a day on the move. But her leg wasn’t as weak as it had been, so she was improving. Asking more of herself would only increase her stamina too. I wasn’t worried about her keeping up. Everything else? Absolutely.

I called a halt in the center of town, then said to Stalker, “Take the measure of the place. See if you can find a local gathering spot. A shop or a market?”

Fade had told me about those long ago, how people got together to trade things. A place like that would be exactly what we needed.

Unlike other settlements, there were no guards. No sentries. People walking with bags and baskets glanced at us more than once, but nobody asked our business. Given what I knew about the world, I didn’t see how this place could continue, long term, without everybody dying in a massacre. Glancing at the rest of my men, I could tell they didn’t understand it, either.

The people seemed well fed. They wore simple clothing, similar to what folks had used in Salvation, except the women here were in trousers, too. I smelled bread baking along with the rich, savory scent of soup. After the swill we’d eaten in Soldier’s Pond, my stomach growled.

“I hear you,” Thornton said.

Before I could reply, Stalker returned. “I found what they call a public house. Half the men in town seem to be inside.”

“Then that’s where we need to go.”

The place Stalker mentioned had a porch across the front, and it was noisier than other buildings. I stepped inside, wrinkling my nose at the strong scent. It smelled like rotten fruit only with more yeast, combined lightly with unwashed bodies. Conversation stalled at our entrance, resumed a few seconds later as the men inside decided we weren’t that interesting.

“It’s a drinking house,” Morrow said.

“What’s that?” I asked, low.

“They serve alcohol.” He forestalled my next question by explaining, “It makes you stupid, loud, and removes a good half of your coordination.”

“That sounds like a bad way to pass the time if you want to live,” Tegan said.

Yet another reason that Otterburn didn’t seem to be like the other towns. I just had no idea why.

There was a man behind a counter, a big, bald lout with a scarred face, and an even bigger cudgel behind him. For obvious reasons, he looked like he was in charge, so I picked a path through the tables and said, “Do you mind if I address the men?”

“That depends. I don’t want you stirring up trouble in here and causing a fight.”

I didn’t think my words would have that effect, but it seemed better not to make him mad. “I’m looking for soldiers to fight the Muties.”

An enormous belly laugh erupted from him. “Why the devil would we do that?”

Fade stepped up from behind me, his body language declaring that he’d happily pound this big idiot into paste. He didn’t like when people mocked me, regardless of the reason. I held up a hand, not wanting to provoke the fellow when I didn’t understand what was going on.

“You don’t have problems with them here?” Thornton asked, visibly skeptical.

“I don’t meddle in your business,” the man said.

Tegan tried a conciliatory tone. “If you told us how you manage to stay safe, it could help a lot of other towns.”

I already knew it couldn’t be some technical solution like they’d tried in Winterville. Nothing in Otterburn made me think they were using old-world salvage. Like in Salvation, there were lamps and candles in here, adding to the room’s stink. The counterman rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful.

“A story for a story,” Morrow suggested.

“Make yours more entertaining than mine and I’ll throw in soup and beer for the lot of you.” The man gestured to the crowd. “A happy crowd stays … and drinks longer.”

Our teller of tales nodded. “Explain how this works and I’ll keep them laughing.”

“Before, we had trouble with the Muties, same as anybody. They were mostly dumb beasts and we hid in our root cellars. They were too stupid to find us. So they’d break doors and furniture, sniff around until they got bored. Occasionally, they’d eat a straggler who didn’t get hidden in time. About a year ago, all of that changed.”

“How?” Stalker asked.

We were all riveted, even the bitter, silent men from Winterville. I bet they wished they’d had this secret before Dr. Wilson infected the town and made their families go crazy, so they had to be penned up away from everyone else. But what else would you expect from a fellow who kept a Freak as a pet? Smart as he was, the man wasn’t right.

“About six months ago, the Muties called a meeting. Instead of attacking, they sent one of theirs that could talk.”

A rumble of disbelief echoed through our small group, followed by some creative cursing. I took note of a few. Even Morrow looked skeptical—and he specialized in stories. But I wasn’t so quick to dismiss the claim. I remembered the Freak addressing me in a raspy voice. When the fighting was fiercest outside Salvation’s gates, I’d stabbed a Freak’s slashing hand, and it had pulled back, screaming its pain. Its murky, almost-human eyes had glared at me in shock, I’d thought.

Did you think I’d just let you eat me? I had demanded.

Eat me, it growled back.

I’d dismissed its words as a beast’s trick, an act of mimicry. Now, given what the Otterburn fellow claimed, I wondered if I had been wrong. Maybe that was the start of the monsters’ evolutionary stabilization, as Dr. Wilson put it. I wasn’t altogether sure what that meant, but nothing good for us; that was sure.

“The Mutie spoke to you?” Thornton clarified in a tone usually reserved for fools.

“That’s right. And it offered us a bargain.”

“What kind?” Fade asked.

“We stay inside our town limits. We don’t hunt Muties in the wilderness. And we provide a regular tithe to show our good faith.”

Oh, I had a bad feeling about this. “What do you mean?”

Fade’s hand slipped into mine, whether as a caution or a comfort I didn’t know, but it was both. The counterman narrowed his eyes as if he could feel the weight of my judgment. “It was for the best. And things have been so much easier since the deal was struck.”

“Just finish your story,” Morrow said. “So I can tell mine.”

“The tithe is simple. We offer food to the Muties and leave it in a certain spot, once a month.”

Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I feared. In the enclave, we gave them our dead to appease them, so they took less interest in trying to breach our barricades. A similar practice in Otterburn would be smart and practical, though I imagined most Topsiders would find the idea repugnant. As I glanced around, the rest of my men looked quietly horrified, so I didn’t volunteer that information.

“Exactly what’re we talking about, here?” Tully spoke for the first time.

The man cleared his throat. “Anybody who dies naturally, they receive the bodies.”

“And if there are no deaths?” I asked.

Things were better on the surface, so I imagined that in good times, people probably didn’t pass on that often. And the Freaks wouldn’t understand failure to honor the agreed-upon terms. I was shocked to hear they had proposed any kind of deal at all, instead of mindlessly attacking. That development was … beyond worrisome.

The lout hunched his shoulders. “It wasn’t my idea,” he said, low. “But to pay the tithe, we draw lots. And the loser goes out to the meeting place.”

“That sounds an awful lot like human sacrifice,” Spence snapped.

The man flattened big hands on the counter, both angry and defensive. “We don’t kill anybody.”

Thornton leaned in. “The Muties do that for you. How long do you reckon you can maintain your population, paying in that coin?”

“It’s not a permanent solution, and you don’t understand how frightened everybody was after the attacks accelerated, how tired we were of hiding. You never knew when the Muties would strike or who would get to shelter. At least this way the deaths are predictable and you get a chance to say good-bye.”

It was horrible, but true. That didn’t mean I could see myself accepting such a deal.

The counterman went on, “And that’s why I won’t let you speak your piece in here. Nobody wants to anger the Muties by encouraging folk who mean to kill them.”

“Then I’ll honor my part of the bargain,” Morrow said. “If you’ll keep yours.”

“Certainly,” the man replied.

He was obviously relieved as we put a couple of tables together, then Morrow leapt up on one. At first the Otterburn men yelled at him to get down, stop making a clown of himself, but he played a few bars on his pipe, and they took an interest. The tale that followed was wild and improbable—about a boy wizard who lived in a cupboard, then a giant came to fetch him to a magical school, thus commencing a bunch of adventures. We were all hanging on Morrow’s words when he wrapped up:

“And that’s the end … for now.”

To my astonishment, I had cold soup and a lukewarm drink before me. If I had anything of value, I’d pay him to keep talking. Sadly I didn’t and Morrow must be parched. I ate my meal quickly, sad for the folks of Otterburn and sorry for myself. There were no warriors here, so I’d failed on our first leg of the journey. I couldn’t defeat the horde without more men.

Then I put such self-pity aside because I did have a small troop and I had to provide for them. So I signaled the counterman and asked him, “Sir, if I promise to be gone in the morning, would you consent to let us bunk on the floor by the fire? It would be nice to pass the night under a warm roof before we go back into the wild.”

He looked undecided, then Morrow pointed out, “I marked how many pitchers of beer you sold while I was sharing that tale.”

But the man wore a shrewd look. “That was part of our old arrangement, but I’ve a mind to offer you another if you’re interested.”

“Not the same sort you gave the Muties, I hope,” Thornton muttered.

I shot him a quelling glance. “I’m amenable to bargaining.”

“Then you lot clean the common room after I close up, then you can move the tables and bed down. Sound fair? I sleep upstairs, mind, and I’ll count all the jugs and bottles before I retire. If there’s even a drop missing in the morn, there will be trouble.”

“Fine.” I had no interest in more of his warm beer, which smelled like piss to me.

A few hours later, we were mopping as a unit. That wasn’t the kind of action I had in mind when I set out, but maybe the next town would bring better luck.

Of a certainty, it couldn’t get worse.

Failure

It was always a mistake to tempt fate with thoughts like that.

Tegan had explained the idea of fate, a concept passed on by her parents. She knew lots of odd things. And I shouldn’t have thought what I did, because the situation could always deteriorate. In the next month, we visited Appleton and Lorraine. The former was a village similar to Salvation, though they had more modern amenities; I could see why Longshot had enjoyed the trade runs. In both towns, I used his name to open doors, and folks were sad to hear he’d passed on, more so to learn of Salvation’s fate. Those facts were enough to get them to let me say my piece.

But I’d come to recognize the light in a man’s eyes before he laughed in derision. When it was forty or more, the sound could be demoralizing. They took one look at my ragged group, listened to my idea, then fell to uproarious chuckles. And those were the nice ones. A few men threw food.

Today, we stood on the outskirts of Gaspard. We had made a complete circuit, and now we stood on the coast. It had been so long since I saw the great water that rather than continue on toward the town I saw in the distance, I paused on the rocky beach to marvel. The men came up beside me, weary and travel stained. I had pushed them hard for little gain, but so far, nobody had complained. I had no illusion that they’d continue to follow me, however, if we kept wandering without progress.

“I’ve never seen the ocean,” Thornton said.

I gazed out over those blue-gray waters, the waves rocking toward shore. “It’s worth seeing.” I turned to Morrow. “Is this going in your story?”

“It might,” he answered.

Gaspard was built on a jut of land that reached out over the water. It seemed foolhardy. What if a great wave drowned them all? But with Freaks roaming, maybe the sea was the least of their worries. To the front, they had the ocean as a bastion and at the back, they had chipped a towering wall out of the rock and mortared it. It stood higher than any defense I’d ever seen, impressive enough to deter fire and claws, any attack the Freaks could devise. There was only a narrow pass covered by a metal gate. The town had a forbidding air, but it was a stronghold.

The world is bigger than I would’ve believed, down below.

If anyone had told me there were so many people living Topside, I would have laughed. Everyone knew the world above was ruined, uninhabitable. It was hard seeing a constant reminder of how misinformed my people had been. These towns weren’t huge like Gotham, but each held hundreds of people, all living according to different rules. Now I understood how foolish my proclamation to Colonel Park must have seemed. I’d simply go unite everyone because it needed to be done? No wonder she laughed—and people kept doing so.

“One thing I don’t understand,” Stalker said.

I turned to him. “What’s that?”

“What’s the purpose of the tithe? It’s not like one person is enough to feed a large number of Muties, so it can’t be about food.”

Ah. So he was still thinking about Otterburn. I had to admit, I was puzzled too.

“It’s symbolic,” Morrow said.

“Explain.” Fade looked curious.

The storyteller’s face gained a grim aspect. “It means the Muties are letting those people live on sufferance. They’re the victors, the overlords, and the battle hasn’t even been joined.”

“Do you think it could be like an experiment?” Tully asked. “On a small scale. They’re wondering how humans will react to such proposed bargains and whether we can be relied on to keep the terms.”

“If any of that’s true,” Thornton said, spitting onto the sand, “then things look bleak for us. We don’t want our enemy learning more about our ways, how to cow settlements into bending at the knee.”

There may not be anything we can do. But I didn’t speak of how disheartened I was.

On the map, this settlement had a slash mark by it. I could interpret most of Longshot’s symbols but this one defeated me. But if Gaspard was dangerous, surely he would’ve noted it in a more obvious way. There was nothing for it but to push on. Turning from the ocean, I led the way up the shore and over the uncertain ground until we came to the metal lattice that sealed the town. A man in a helmet stepped into sight; his armor was crafted of reinforced leather, so it lent him a martial air. The sight gave me hope. Maybe there were warriors here, and some might be interested in taking the fight to the Freaks.

His hard glance swept our group, then the guard snapped, “We don’t open the gate for beggars and thieves. Go plead for charity elsewhere.”

Indignant, I replied, “We have skins to trade.”

After two impressive failures, I knew better than to share our true purpose with a man who worked the gate. While he might pretend to be important, if he were truly a policy maker, he wouldn’t be stationed here. Behind me, Fade held up the string of pelts he carried. We had hunted as we traveled and Stalker prepared the furs, so they would survive long enough to lend plausible credence to our reason for visiting Gaspard.

“You’re an awful big group of fur traders,” the man said doubtfully. “The ones I’ve known traveled in ones and twos, better to avoid the Muties.”

Morrow cocked his head, his manner quizzical. “There won’t be any new armor for you with that attitude, my man.”

The gate guard swore. “Fine. You can come in and trade, but if I hear of any problems from the lot of you, I’ll have you in the stocks before nightfall.”

From Salvation, I was familiar with that punishment. And it was definitely to be avoided. The only positive thing about all the traveling was that we’d gotten good at eluding detection by the Freaks, as they roved in great bands. It was as if they were taking some kind of measure of our defenses, and I wondered if they meant to offer similar deals to other settlements, like the quiet conquering of Otterburn.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, I thought, if they just let us live.

But my stomach turned at the idea of offering our dead, now that I knew it was wrong, and I couldn’t sit idly by while someone I loved sacrificed for the greater good. Even the old Deuce, the one who desperately wanted to be pure Huntress, would’ve caviled at that tithe. Freaks couldn’t be permitted to win the war that way.

The gate clanged as they hauled it up. I strode forward before the guard changed his mind. Inside, I saw that it had taken six men to get the thing open, which meant it was incredibly heavy. That offered safety, but I also had the sense of stepping into a trap when it banged shut behind us. All the guards were dirty and unshaven with a hard look in their eyes. When she noticed it, Tegan stepped closer to me while Tully instinctively reached for her weapon, checking the motion when she realized it would be unwise to seem hostile.

Unlike other towns we had visited farther inland, all the houses were made of stone. This added to the cold, forbidding air when I was used to homey timber structures. Of course, sometimes, like Winterville, the town had been expanded using salvage from the old world, but even that looked more welcoming than endless rows of squat stone buildings. Most of the windows were shuttered at this hour of the day, which struck me as unusual. If I lived in a house like that, I’d want all the warmth I could muster.

“Where’s the market?” Morrow asked.

Wordless, the guard pointed. Apparently he wasn’t wasting more time with a bunch of eccentric trappers. We had met such traders—and the surly man was right—they tended to travel in groups no larger than two. It was common to see a man alone, covered in furs and skins, with a beard all the way down his chest. Dressing in that fashion—so many parts of other animals—probably made tracking difficult for the Freaks.

Once we moved deeper into town, I didn’t send Stalker to scout. I couldn’t explain the instinct, only that I felt it best for us to stick together. Fade stayed close at my back, too, and I could tell by Tegan’s expression that she felt the sensation of countless watchers, like the entire town had their eyes pressed up against their shutters. A chill went through me that had nothing to do with the weather.

At first I feared the guard had directed us wrong out of spite, but eventually the narrow lane between buildings widened into a public square. Vendors sold their wares out of baskets and wooden carts; there was food, clothing, piles of kitchen items, and used goods. Beckoning to Fade, I beelined for the man who was running a knife across some damp skins, preparing to turn them into leather.

“I’d like to trade,” I said.

The tanner pawed through our bundle, examining each fur with a critical stare. Then he nodded. “I can use these.” He counted out fifty bits of metal, then handed them to me.

They jingled in my palm. “What’s this?”

His look turned scornful. “Haven’t you spent any time in a real town? That’s money, you idiot. You buy things with it. Food and lodging, goods and services.”

I already didn’t like Gaspard. “Other towns use different items, like wood tokens.”

The tanner became less critical. “I didn’t know that. Interesting.”

Most likely, I was better traveled than he was, especially after the past month, but I didn’t comment further. This seemed a likely place to speak my piece, but I had misgivings. I told myself I was just hungry; and it made sense to buy some supplies since we had local chits. Once we finished our business, then I’d make my speech.

I hate this. So much.

I gave four to each person in the group with two left over and we split into pairs to shop. Fade came with me. He slipped his hand into mine without thinking about it; and the casual nature of the gesture made my heart sing. We stopped first to look at a basket full of brightly painted wooden squares.

“What are these?” I asked the vendor.

Delighted, he broke the thing into pieces. “It’s a puzzle box. It goes together like this.”

I watched him do it, and it seemed easy, but when I tried it, I found it impossible to assemble into a neat cube. Instead I had a jumble of components going every which way. Smiling, Fade took it from me and put it back together.

“But what does it do?”

The seller seemed puzzled. “It’s a toy. Children play with it.”

There hadn’t been any fun down below. Even the brats trained in basic knowledge necessary for survival and when they weren’t training, they performed minor maintenance and sanitary tasks that the older enclave citizens didn’t have time to handle. I remembered running all the time with few moments to myself. As a Huntress, I’d had more leisure because my job was more dangerous.

“Thanks for your time,” Fade said, replacing the box in the basket.

He knew my thoughts too well. Since we had eight bits of metal between us, we had to buy things the group needed, not a funny little box. In the end, I bought dried meat and herbs and a lightweight pot so that we could have stew as we traveled. Later, we met the others in the middle of the market, their packs bulging with whatever they’d spent their money on.

I could delay no longer.

Taking a deep breath, I hopped up onto an overturned crate. But the reaction wasn’t usual. No laughter. No derision. The silence was worse somehow, but I pushed on, until I’d finished. It was the same speech I had used in Soldier’s Pond; I wasn’t one for talking. And maybe that was why I kept failing.

Then a vendor shouted, “Call the watch! They’re disturbing the peace!”

“Did you hear what she said? Coming out of the earth from where she lived down below … she’s either a madwoman or a witch!”

I had no idea what a witch was, but I recognized fear and anger when I heard it. This wouldn’t end well for any of us. I bit out a curse. If we ended up in the stocks, the few men I had would probably leave me once they cut us free. I ran toward the gate, hoping to outpace the commotion in the market. No such luck. Armed men surrounded us, their blades similar to Morrow’s, only not as light and graceful. These were weapons made for brutality and strength; they could hack off a head or a limb with equal facility.

“What did I tell you about causing trouble?” the guard demanded.

“You were against it, as I recall,” Tegan said.

It was awful, but I wanted to laugh; she looked so small and innocent, the least likely of our group to give anyone lip, but appearances could be deceiving. In an instant, however, circumstances changed. My men drew their weapons and stepped in to protect me. They put their bodies between the guards and me. I didn’t move, didn’t protest.

I had no idea how to resolve this standoff.

Change

“Did you hear what she said, Sarge?” a guard asked.

The commander snapped back, “No, I was on duty, like you were supposed to be.”

His cheeks colored. “I only popped down to the market for a drink, and there she was, bold as brass, declaiming like a loon. She wants to steal our soldiers!”

“Steal” was a strong word. I drew my knives, calculating the odds. We could kill these men, but it would do our cause no good to be hunted by the Gaspard townsfolk. With the Freaks massing, that was a complication we didn’t need, so a peaceful resolution would be best.

“We didn’t realize there were ordinances regarding public speech,” Morrow said soothingly. “Why don’t we call it a misunderstanding? And we’ll leave at once.”

It was lowering to have him speak on my behalf, but he was better at it. Maybe he should make the recruitment speeches from now on. People thought I was crazy. But the guard shook his head, and his men stepped closer.

“We’re big on abiding the law here. You broke it. So you’ll pay the penalty.”

“For speaking in the marketplace?” I demanded, incredulous.

“Inciting a public disturbance,” the guard corrected.

That was patently absurd. It didn’t seem like a huge problem that a few people got agitated and yelled a bit. For that, I deserved to go into the stocks?

But the guard went on, “And now you’re resisting arrest. Tell your men to stand down immediately. If they don’t, that’s a hanging offense.”

Fade snarled. I knew what that sound meant. The half-feral boy slept lightly under his skin, and that ferocity kept him alive down below. I wished I could soothe him, but given his precarious emotional state, that might make things worse. Touch was a trigger, and I didn’t want Fade to go off like a flint to dry kindling.

“Bend the rules for a change,” Stalker suggested in a low tone. “Let us go. Or not. It’s your life.”

I couldn’t be sure whether it was the way the rest of the men lofted their weapons or the shine in his icy eyes. From his set jaw to his livid scars, in that moment, he looked every bit a savage, like he could slay them all himself. The Gaspard guards took a collective half step back, giving us some room.

One of them offered in a small voice, “Perhaps this once—”

“Get out,” Sarge snapped. “If you come back, I’ll see you dead if it’s the last thing I do.”

He barked an order at the men to raise the gates for us. Behind us, the citizens from the market were gathering, yelling questions and protests. We got out as fast as we could, and the gate slammed shut behind us. Instead of offering up some recruits, they’d threatened us with a hanging and booted us out of town.

Excellent.

My spirits hit an all-time low as I found us a suitable campsite. Thanks to the rocky beach and the low hillside, I did manage to find a windbreak. The others set up their bedrolls while Tully and Spence built a fire. I put a pot on it and used our fresh supplies to set soup boiling. We each had shallow wooden bowls and spoons, but so far, we’d eaten mostly foraged fruits and nuts, along with meat roasted on the spit. This reminded me unpleasantly of our journey north out of the ruins, and I missed Salvation with a sharp pang. I hadn’t loved all their rules, but it offered safety with good food and warm beds.

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” Dines said quietly.

He wasn’t much of a talker, too much sorrow and bitterness in him. Along with Hammond, Sands, and Voorhees, he’d traveled from Winterville in response to what he believed to be the colonel’s call. They had come looking for battle, and I’d wasted their time. At the moment, I felt weak, powerless, and small. The world was too big; and I was incompetent. It had been hubris, just like Mrs. James said, for me to imagine I could change anything. The gray sky overhead echoed my shame and the ocean dwarfed me. I was a dot on the sand, a whole lot of nothing. With a soft sigh, I sank down by the fire, grateful for the rock face at my back.

But the men were looking at me, expecting a bolstering word. I had made such promises before, after Appleton and Lorraine, after I wiped the rotten fruit off my face. This most recent failure bit deep, and I had no more promises. But if I didn’t do something—say the right words—I’d lose them.

“Me, either,” Hammond said, staring at me.

The Winterville men didn’t know me. They had no idea if my stories were true.

“I have a new plan,” I murmured, though currently it was to eat soup for dinner instead of meat on a stick.

They didn’t need to know that. Surely I’d figure it out.

Stalker set a hand on my arm, the first time he’d touched me since the night we left Salvation. He looked angry too, though. “I need to talk to you in private.”

“Let’s take a walk,” I said. “Thornton, you have the camp.”

That might be a stupid thing to say, given how little anybody thought of me just then. I wasn’t in charge of anything but a big mess. Yet I was trying so hard, and the girl part of me just wanted to curl up and cry. The Huntress wouldn’t let her, a fact for which I was grateful.

In silence we strolled all the way down to the water, too far for the others to hear us. The wind blew cold and salty against my skin. I shivered but I didn’t react otherwise, fixing my gaze on Stalker’s angry countenance.

“What the devil is wrong with you?” he demanded.

Of all things, I hadn’t expected him to yell at me. “I—”

“Girl, you’re not a talker. That’s why you’re failing. You can’t go around asking people to fight a war with you. Tegan and me, we’ll follow you anywhere but it’s because we’ve seen you fight. That’s how you win people to this cause.”

I started to protest the logistics—because how was I supposed to impress strangers in far-flung towns with my battle prowess—but he held up a hand to forestall my response. “Let me finish. That quarrel at the gate in Gaspard will do us more good than anything we’ve done so far. We made those guards back down. You don’t think people will talk about that? There was a fur trader in the crowd, watching. He’ll carry word.”

“I don’t see how that adds men to the group,” I muttered.

“You wouldn’t. You’ve never built anything.”

“And you have.” I wasn’t being sarcastic. He’d fought his way to the top of the pack within the Wolves, and then molded them into a gang to be feared, wiping out all opposition. So I was seriously listening to his advice.

“Enough roaming around. We pick our home ground, probably near Soldier’s Pond to make it easier to get supplies. We claim and … protect it. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s how you start something like this. It’s not so different from the gangs. I was defending buildings and streets. Out here it’s plains, beaches, and forests. So pick one.”

I thought about that and decided he was right. “Forest. There will be plenty of wood for us to build, varied terrain offering cover. Easier to defend than an open field.”

Stalker jerked his head in an approving nod, his pale eyes glimmering in excitement. “That sounds better. Once we settle, the Freaks will find us. It’ll just be a matter of whether we can defeat them. But that’s a fight the men can get behind. Most of them came out expecting to die anyway or looking for the thrill of battle. You haven’t been offering that.”

It was true. I’d thought it best not to engage or rile the Freaks more than necessary while we built our numbers. But that wasn’t happening. Time to change strategies.

“Thank you. Without you, this would be doomed to fail.”

“Probably,” he said with a trace of his old cockiness.

But the look wasn’t leavened with wistful yearning. Stalker had closed the door on that desire at last. I followed him back to camp, where Spence was stirring the soup. Everyone else talked quietly, tended to their weapons, or both.

I cleared my throat to draw their attention. “I’m sorry our efforts haven’t been as fruitful as I’d hoped. But that part is done. From here on out, we’re taking the fight to the enemy, hard. Maybe we can’t fight the horde, but we can keep our part of the world safe.”

From there I outlined the strategy Stalker and I had agreed on. The men seemed enthusiastic, eager even, to defend the forest near Soldier’s Pond. Satisfaction replaced a fraction of the shame. We might not be marching an army to face the horde, but this, we could do. I recalled how the Freaks had created a village in the forest near Salvation; we would do the same to them at Soldier’s Pond, and we’d learn every root, branch, and tree, every shadow, until there was nowhere they could find us. If we couldn’t face them en masse, we’d kill them one by one.

We would be ghosts of the forest.

That night, everyone seemed in much brighter spirits. The return trip took us over a week, as we had been traveling steadily east since we left Soldier’s Pond—all the way to the ocean—and that was a hard march. There were settlements to the west too, but we hadn’t gotten that far before failure squashed me like a bug. But I felt better, now that we had an attainable goal.

Nine days of tough travel later, I glimpsed the prickly green trees rising in the distance. Soldier’s Pond lay on the other side, flush with the river, but we weren’t going that far. In addition to occasional hunting, our supplies from Gaspard were holding out fine, and we had to support ourselves in the wilderness. The Freaks were smart enough to study our habits, so if we made regular runs to town, they’d strike when we stepped into the open.

I didn’t intend to make it easy. “There may not be many of us, but we’ll teach the Freaks to fear us. Too long we’ve cowered in ruins and in settlements. It’s time to take back our land.”

Yes, it was just one patch of forest, but I felt like we were drawing a line. Maybe that was just optimism, but I preferred it to despair. The men knew better than to cheer, but they raised their hands in silent anticipation of the killing to come. A few drew their weapons and flourished them. That put a smile on my face. I might not have an army yet, but I’d choose these valiant warriors over a horde any day.

“Will you scout the area?” I asked Stalker.

He nodded. “I’ll take Hammond and Sands.”

“Find us a likely spot, something defensible,” I suggested.

He acknowledged that remark with a vague gesture and the three moved off. The rest of us waited in the green shadow of the trees. Dried needles carpeted the ground here and there, relics of a drought. Tegan came up beside me; she was thin and tan from our time on the road, and she hardly limped at all anymore. I didn’t err by asking how her leg was, either. She was more than an old injury.

“This isn’t how I pictured it when we left,” she said.

“Me either.”

I had imagined myself at the head of a glorious army, unlike any seen since the old world imploded. Instead, at the end of six weeks, I still had twelve volunteers and we were preparing to take a stand in a wood near the town where we started. Momma Oaks would say this was a lesson in humility, teaching me not to put the cart before the horse—and probably, she was right.

Spence said, “It’s better to be out here, preparing to fight. It makes me feel like I’m doing something, at least.”

Tully aimed a fond smile at him. “He hated the endless drills. Said it made him feel like they were training him for a day that would never come.”

“They want us ready to fight, but they don’t really want to battle the Muties,” Spence snapped. “We don’t spend nearly enough time on patrol or hold enough ground. If I wanted to work in the animal sheds, I wouldn’t have enlisted.”

I’d noticed that about Soldier’s Pond. For a town full of warriors, they saw relatively little battle. They sent men out on patrols only enough to keep the immediate area clear, and that was a curious way to live, like the Freak Dr. Wilson kept caged in Winterville. I’d call it mere existence because a barbed metal fence defined their lives. To some extent, I’d felt that way in Salvation too. In my heart, I wanted the world to be safe for humans to travel.

At length, the scouts returned with word that they’d found a suitable location. And when I saw it, I approved the spot at once, a clearing with bits of blue sky showing through the canopy, and the tree limbs overhead were tangled enough that they could support small structures. When my eyes turned up, Fade glanced that way too. He was pale beneath his copper glow; and I feared this reminded him too much of his abduction.

Then he said, echoing my thought, “We could start by building platforms, walkways amid the trees. Cut some timber to use the branches to form a makeshift roof.”

Tully pointed to a straight, sturdy limb. “I could perch up there, shooting Freaks.”

She was walking death with her crossbow, and the monsters had no comparable weapons. The others spread out, assessing the terrain and deciding how they could best turn it against our enemies. With a smile, I turned to Stalker and his men.

“Perfect. Great work.” Then I called to Thornton, “Do you have that hand ax?”

“Of course. Never go anywhere without it.”

I pitched my voice to carry. “Then get to work. There’s no telling how long we have until the Freaks find us. I intend to be ready.”

Embattled

We worked undisturbed in the forest for a week.

That was good, as it gave us time to implement some of our plans. The roof would take longer, of course, but we cut and split enough young trees to establish the walkways Fade had mentioned. With judicious use of our limited supplies, we employed twine, vines, and resin to fix the logs in place. Tully got her shooting perch as well. By the time we finished, the camouflage was complete, and you wouldn’t notice our camp in the boughs unless you were looking for it. Cooking still took place on the ground, of course, but it looked more like an isolated fire than a settlement, which was exactly what we wanted.

In time, the smoke drew enemies to us. That, too, was part of the plan.

A Freak hunting party stalked into the clearing just before dawn, probably expecting to catch a trapper unaware. They stopped, all twenty of them, to stare at the unattended fire. This was a risk, but they already had fire, thanks to our outpost, and they’d demonstrated no problems protecting the flame for long periods, which showed cognition of the consequences should it go out. The way they were developing—and with what Dr. Wilson had said about their collective memory—it wouldn’t surprise me if they figured out how to start one on their own ere long.

One of them snarled at the rest, then gestured. He’s giving orders. Then the Freaks fanned out, sniffing around the clearing. But before they could figure out we were up above, I signaled Tully, and the attack commenced. She loosed a bolt from her perch, spearing the leader through the throat. The hit was clean until the beast clawed the metal out of its neck, then blood sprayed everywhere. His soldiers reacted with less panic than I’d expected, but without his leadership, they needed to be more focused in order to take out opponents with a battle plan and superior placement.

From beside her, Spence shot two more. Using shooting irons was a risk. If there were more in the vicinity, they’d hear the noise and come to aid their brethren, but the alternative was putting the rest of us on the ground before we softened them up. From what Stalker said, the horde was east of Salvation, not west. Once they found Gaspard, they’d probably harry that area for a while, not that it would do them any good. The way that town was situated, unless the beasts could approach by sea or find a way over that massive wall, then the only way they could hurt the people within would be to starve them out.

That left us with seventeen Freaks to kill. I nodded my approval to Tegan, who still had my rifle. She inched forward on the platform, braced, and fired. Though her aim wasn’t all that good, the higher vantage helped. I suspected she hadn’t intended to shoot one through the back, but it worked. The monster cried out in rage and spun, snarling a challenge. Not a fatal shot. She unloaded again, this time catching the Freak in the chest, and that ended it. From her exultant expression, it felt good to assert her strength. I didn’t undervalue her healing skills, but defensive ability made a person feel powerful, and she needed that.

Tully reloaded and killed another one, Spence accounted for two more. That was what I had been waiting for—slightly better odds. The men needed a decisive victory to restore the morale we’d lost wandering around and begging for help. I gave the signal to leap down and began the next stage of the battle. As one, we attacked from above. To me, the others were a blur of fists and blades. I had my knives out before the first Freak reached me. It lunged and I replied with a lightning slice of my wrist.

It felt good to cut its throat.

Another took its place. The clearing was a mass of snarls and lashing claws, snapping fangs. Fade fought his way to my side and took his position at my back. We fought as we always had, like one person, and the beauty of our coordinated movements felt like sparking. Stalker was a whirlwind of graceful savagery; everywhere he moved, the beasts went down. Tegan’s gun went quiet, and I suspected she didn’t trust herself to fire while we were fighting. I respected her for knowing her limitations, even as one of Tully’s bolts slammed into the monster I was battling.

As I took on another, I glanced over at Thornton, who stunned a beast with his weighted fist and Morrow ran it through. They were efficient together, brute force coupled with finesse. Morrow saw me looking and winked, then he whirled back into the fight. Behind me, Fade fought with his whole body—elbows, shoulders, knees—while deftly avoiding their snapping jaws. I blocked a feint in my direction, then tried a new maneuver; I launched a kick, and when the Freak leapt back to avoid it, I disemboweled it on a low, forward rush.

Our plan turned into a chaotic melee with Freaks moving wildly. Some lashed out at whomever was nearby; others fled. Tully and Spence dropped the last two as they bounded toward the edge of the clearing. I was breathing hard but euphoric. This definitely counted as a victory. All around me, the men were celebrating.

“It’s only one fight,” I said, “but this is where it begins.”

They responded by stomping their feet and hooting. Tegan moved through, checking us out. Apart from Tully and Spence, we all had minor scrapes, bruises, and claw marks, but nothing serious, no wounds that required much medical attention. We’d needed to prove our ability like this; it would bolster our resolve through the tough times, and I had no doubt those were looming on the horizon.

I went on, “Let’s get these bodies out of here. They’ll soon be stinking up the place.”

“What should we do with them?” Spence asked.

After considering how they had tormented us and ultimately destroyed Salvation, the answer came to me. My heart felt cold as ice as I replied, “Drag them past the edge of the forest. Take their heads. Then burn the rest.”

“What’re we doing with the heads?” Thornton demanded.

Stalker answered for me, an approving light in his eyes. “I suspect we’re planting them on stakes in a perimeter around our territory.”

“That’s exactly right.”

Morrow frowned. “That seems barbaric.”

“It is. It’s also a warning they’ll understand because it’s one they issued to us.”

By their expressions, a few didn’t like this, especially Morrow and Tegan, but I was done playing. The Freaks knew precisely what this meant—and that was the point. If they respected our boundary posting, then we’d get bored and have to change our strategy. If they did not—and I both hoped for and expected an enraged challenge—then things would get interesting.

Alongside the others, I helped with the hauling. Stalker kept a sharp eye on the terrain around us, as this was a dangerous point. We were off guard, dealing with the aftermath of the battle. Plus, we stood in an open field while stacking the headless Freak corpses in preparation for burning. Tegan gathered dry grass and other kindling in order to speed the bonfire along and Thornton donated a splash of liquor he’d picked up in one of our many stops. Once lit, the monsters made a fearful stink with a column of smoke pluming up like a signal fire.

And that was when the second wave appeared.

They swarmed from the south, and Fade’s warning shout gave us enough time for Spence to fire off a few rounds and Tully to unload two bolts before they hit us. I drew my blades, dancing back enough that I had room to move. It would be the worst luck and the ultimate irony if I fell over a Freak corpse and got clawed to death for my clumsiness.

They came too quick for me to get a count, and that fast I was fighting for my life. Four of them. Where’s Fade? I blocked with my right forearm, slicing two talons with my left so they hung from a spider spool of muscle and skin, dangling, dangling. Another slash cut through entirely and left stumps of bloody bone jutting from the maimed hand. The other three reacted as one; and I couldn’t block all of their blows. I flipped backward, arms extended for balance, but didn’t land clean since the grass was damp with blood. My feet slipped, thus yielding the advantage to my enemies.

Fortunately, I recovered fast enough to avoid everything but two swipes of their collective claws. Blood bubbled in the runnels they left in my flesh, but I spiked my daggers into the first one’s chest, then tore it wide open. Freaks tended to be predictable in their attacks. Over the years, I’d learned how they fought: swipe, swipe, snap with teeth. If they sank them into you, however, they locked their jaws. I rolled away from a snarling attack, using the damp ground to carry me out of range.

Before they could reach me, I rolled to my feet, ignoring the pain in my arms. What were a few more scars? Around me, I caught a glimpse of Fade, fighting to reach me, and Stalker, who was killing like it was his favorite thing in the world. I heard grunts from Thornton and nothing at all from Morrow. Spence was conserving his ammo, favoring knife and boot, while Tully shot from behind him. The chaos of killing was beautiful in a way, and I contributed to it by opening another’s veins as it ran at me. Blood spurted from its wounds, not fetid, just salt, copper, and that strong, meaty tang.

When the last monster fell, there were thirty of them on the ground, and we were all standing. More cheers sounded, as we’d just put down fifty Freaks. Not a bad day’s work. I was exhausted and drenched in blood, most of it not my own, but as I wiped my eyes, I knew the precious glow of satisfaction. The others looked as if they felt the same with the possible exception of Morrow. I couldn’t read him at all. The man was talented with a blade, but he didn’t show a warrior’s pride.

“Take these heads too,” I said. “Then add them to the pile.”

It took us the rest of the day to complete the burning and further into the night to post all the warning pickets around our base. A grisly job—Morrow and Tegan opted to remain at camp. By the time we returned, I was starving, filthy, and exhausted, but also hopeful. This was why the men had followed me from their homes. They didn’t care about the scale; they only wanted to kill Freaks. In some cases they wanted retribution. Others needed to feel like they were making the world a little safer. As for Morrow, I had no idea what he was doing here, but by firelight, he scribbled some notes in a book that he kept in his pocket.

There was a brook not far away, so Fade and I took some jugs to haul water for drinking and bathing. I didn’t think there would be more trouble—I suspected we’d cleared all the Freaks in the immediate area—but I was still on my guard as we pulled the full containers back toward camp. In the moonlight Fade looked as tired as I felt.

“How long are we staying?” he asked.

“Until they stop coming or we’re dead.”

“You think they’re capable of learning to fear us?”

“I hope so. I don’t know what else to do. When the horde marches this way, there will be no resisting them, unless you live in a place like Gaspard.”

“And most settlements aren’t so well positioned,” Fade said softly.

That bothered me. I saw Otterburn’s future for all unprotected towns, and I didn’t believe the Freaks would honor that bargain forever. That was a ploy to make the humans feel safe in the custody of monsters. To my mind, it was a way to get those residents used to the idea of bending at the knee—of being subjugated. I recalled the pens where the Freaks had kept humans—and how they’d treated Fade—which told me all I needed to know about their true intentions.

In this part of the forest, it was so dark, only slivers of moonlight trickling through the canopy, but for me, that was enough to make out the shapes of trees and the fans of the leaves, others with limbs full of prickling needles. I heard the distant bubble of the brook and the quiet chirrup of insects. The air smelled of sap and sweetness, crushed herbs and the slight musk of animal waste. Sour notes bled through from the distant fire, a smoky char full of burning bones.

I wished the flames could drive away the monsters forever, but it didn’t work like that, and according to Edmund, wishing was only a thing you did when you looked up at the stars. From here, I couldn’t see them—and for a few seconds I yearned for the relative innocence of when I’d imagined the lights came from a city set high above us. Things had been much simpler then, my quest smaller. We’d found safety in Salvation, but it didn’t last. There could be peace only if we forced it down their throats and choked them with it.

I stopped, bowing my head. “It’s insidious.”

Fade put down his jug; he was carrying instead of hauling it, as he was stronger than I was. Though he was better, I didn’t expect him to reach for me. I had grown accustomed to standing alone, no strong arms or warm body to lean on, so for a few seconds, I froze, like I was the one with a problem being touched. Then I melted against him, eyes closing.

“It is,” he agreed.

“Right now, I feel so small.”

His lips grazed the top of my head. “I believe you can do this. I’ve lived through all of your impossible stories and I know them to be true. So if anyone can change the world, it’s you.”

Questions

In the days that followed, I clung to those words.

The battles came fast and fierce, so that our bonfire on the edge of the forest burned all the time. Eventually we piled stones to keep it from spreading to the grass and then the trees. While we meant to warn our enemies, there was no value in burning down the woods.

In between the fighting, we built more. A roof went up across the branches, as we’d planned, and we widened the platforms so we could sleep up there too. At first it felt precarious and I hardly got any rest at all. But I’d had problems when we first came Topside, too. In time, I adapted. Everyone did.

Tully and Spence worked with Thornton in digging pits, then lining them with sharpened stakes. For obvious reasons, we all memorized the danger zones and avoided them. Farther out, Stalker and his scouts added snares and trip lines. Most often, we caught our dinner in the snares, but occasionally they trapped a lone Freak. The snarls gave away the location, so each time, one of us ran to kill the thing before it chewed through the line.

We had been in the forest for about a month, as far as I could tell, when Tegan approached. Her steps were light if uneven on the wooden perch. She had gotten nimble at climbing, and it was improving her confidence. She no longer skittered away from any of the men or failed to meet their eyes. Sometimes she even joined in the roughhousing with Spence and Morrow. I noticed Stalker studying her, but it wasn’t the look he used to give me, more like he was considering the terrible things he’d done and wishing he could change them.

She sat down beside me and let her legs dangle. Others were on watch. Morrow and Stalker were facing off in the clearing below. The Winterville scouts had taken off a few minutes before to check the perimeter traps and see if any of our severed heads had been removed. Sometimes the Freaks crept up and took them away, but they were cautious about attacking the camp now. We’d taught them wariness, at least. In time, it might become more.

I lived with the daily fear that some Freak would carry word to the horde, which had to be on the eastern coast by now. There was no way for me to confirm, however, without parting with one of my scouts, and I was unwilling to do so. It seemed like too big a risk for too little gain. So we fought on, poised on the razor’s edge. One day these trees might fill up with far more Freaks than even our skilled band could hope to defeat.

We’d fight until that time.

By this point, my black eyes had gone and my broken nose had healed, though it was a bit crooked. Fade said it gave my face character. I didn’t know about that, but other minor injuries distracted me from such concerns.

“Remember what we talked about, just after we left Soldier’s Pond?” Tegan asked.

“Your self-defense training?”

“Yes. When do you plan to teach me?” Her approach was direct and brusque, her expression daring me to object.

Her bravado made me smile. “I was waiting for you to ask.”

“Are you kidding? I already did!”

Just to annoy her, I modulated my voice to Silk’s lecturing tone. “If you want something bad enough, you chase after it. You don’t wait for people to bring it to you.”

Sure enough, Tegan’s dark brows spiked, but she swallowed her protest, probably thinking I wouldn’t teach her anything if she sassed me. First, however, I had to figure out what style would suit her. She had a small handicap in her weak leg; firearms might be best … yet that came with the worry about ammunition, and Spence was already running low.

So I decided to ask some questions. “Whose style do you admire most? Forget what you can do for a minute, just consider our fights.”

“Morrow,” she said eventually.

There was a lot to like with his limber grace and his elegant form; he also employed agility in his spins and feints, leaps and flourishes I wasn’t sure she had the reach to match—and her balance was probably off—but it was possible we could adapt the style to fit her. So I swung to my feet and clambered down, beckoning for her to follow.

Stalker had just leveled both his blades at Morrow’s throat when the other man brought his arm up in a lightning maneuver. It was so fast that Stalker lost one of his curved daggers, something I’d never seen before. But instead of reacting with anger or outrage, his pale eyes narrowed.

“Show me,” he demanded. “Again.”

Obligingly, Morrow duplicated the move until Stalker could counter it. They were both breathing hard when they noticed Tegan and me.

Morrow doffed an imaginary hat, a gesture he was fond of. I couldn’t imagine where he’d learned it, but faint color touched Tegan’s throat and climbed toward her cheeks. Stalker waited to hear what we wanted. The others went about their business, but I sensed their interest.

“Tegan can handle a rifle already … and we can’t waste ammo on target practice out here. But she wants to learn to fight better.”

“That’s a good idea,” Stalker said.

Morrow looked thoughtful. “What’s your weapon of choice?”

She shrugged. “I’ve used guns. A club, once, but I wasn’t very good with it.”

“It was too heavy.” I missed that club, though, because my brat-mate Stone had made it for me. Not for the first time, I wondered what became of him and Thimble and why they had been so quick to believe the charges the elders levied against me.

Down below, hoarding was a crime, and I’d been accused of stashing old-world treasures for my own personal gain. Since I loved shiny things, it would’ve made no sense for me to squirrel away stacks of reading material. Sometimes I enjoyed the pictures but even after going to school in Salvation, reading was hard work, so that was the last thing I’d steal. I shook my head over the foolishness of that accusation and focused on Tegan.

“Walk for me,” Morrow said gently.

Tegan’s eyes shone with misery but she obliged, showing him her stride. There was high color in her face as she came back toward us, but she didn’t drop her gaze. Yes, I have a limp, she said with a silent, defiant lift of her chin. But I can still fight. Morrow didn’t seem to be focusing on that, however—at least not in any judgmental way.

“What do you think?” I asked.

He addressed Tegan, not me. “You need a weapon that helps you compensate and plays to your strengths. You’re small enough to be a deceptive target and strong enough to surprise your enemies when they get close to you.”

“What do you suggest?” Tegan sounded happier, confident he could help.

In answer, Morrow ran off into the woods. Stalker gazed after him, one brow raised. “Well, that was odd.”

But I had a feeling I knew where he’d gone … and why. Sure enough, he returned in a few moments with a relatively straight tree limb. With some judicious carving, it would make a fine staff. A little banded metal on top and bottom—which could be done once we returned to Soldier’s Pond for supplies—and the weapon would serve.

“This is yours,” he said, offering it to Tegan.

“You want me to kill Freaks with a stick?”

“Make some room,” Morrow said.

The rest of us complied, then he demonstrated some of the moves. In his hands, the branch became beautiful and dangerous, whirling in defense, striking hard, blocking phantom blows. When he finished his demonstration, even Stalker looked impressed.

“Could I really learn to fight like that?” Tegan asked.

“Not exactly,” Morrow told her frankly. “But I can adapt the style for you and the staff is long enough that you can plant it if you stumble and then adjust your footing. It’s the best weapon for you.”

Stalker added, “Plus you can keep it with you. It may not even occur to your enemies that you can smash their skulls with it … until it’s too late.”

That sounded like exactly what Tegan needed. I didn’t want the Freaks making right for her because she was dropping them too fast with a rifle. This was a quiet competence, exactly suited to her personality, a subtle threat right out in the open. For her part, she seemed pleased when she took the branch from Morrow.

He turned to me. “Unless you have something else for us to do, I’d like to start now.”

“Go on,” I said.

Afterward, I decided it seemed strange—him asking me for permission. But there was no question I’d started this endeavor, so that made me in charge by default, no matter whether I was doing a good job. I wondered if Silk felt this way when she first took command of the Hunters, as if it were wrong for all of them to look to her for orders. At that moment, I realized it had been a long time since I heard her voice in my head; I wasn’t sure what that meant, precisely, but I suspected I had changed until my mind no longer worked in the same way. And that meant my memory of Silk had no insight to offer, no oft-repeated homilies.

In other words, I was on my own.

I moved off to give them space to train. Stalker followed me, likely with the same goal. But he looked troubled, and I was determined to be a friend, even if he didn’t want me to be.

So I asked, “What’s wrong? It can’t be the lack of action.”

He smiled wryly at that, the movement pulling at his scars. We’d just burned twenty-nine more Freaks. For a band of twelve souls poorly armed and living in trees, our body count was impressive. As long as the hunting was good, the snows held off, and the horde stayed out of our territory, we could continue like this indefinitely.

“No. I was just wondering … do you think I could ever make things up to Tegan? I know I apologized and she said she forgave me because I didn’t know any better but … I feel like I need to do something more. It’s eating at me.”

“That sounds like a guilty conscience.” Momma Oaks had explained the idea to me a while back, and once she did, I understood the bad feelings I had regarding the blind brat and certain things I’d done to earn my rank as a Huntress down below.

“Maybe,” he said, sounding unsure.

So I ran through the explanation I’d received from my mother, and he nodded. “It wasn’t just her, either. We stole a few other girls, but none of them were treated so bad … because they came from other gangs, and they understood our way of life.”

“So they didn’t fight.”

I hurt for my friend, thinking about how she must feel. Maybe she hadn’t wanted the two brats they’d forced on her, but she couldn’t feel good about losing them, either. While I’d pondered, Morrow had gotten his own staff and was demonstrating the forms. Patient and skilled, he’d teach her without making her feel like she wasn’t good enough. Part of me wished I’d known an instructor like him instead of the Hunters who screamed at us down below, telling us we’d never be fast enough or strong enough—that our best would always be pathetic. It made you strong, I told myself, but all the same, I wasn’t sad that Silk’s voice had gone quiet.

“No,” he said, still standing expectant.

Belatedly, I went back to Stalker’s original question. “No. There’s nothing you can do. She has to live with it and so do you. Some things can’t be made right … but it’s good that you want to.”

“I might be a better person now,” he said with a sigh, “but I’m not happier.”

If his feelings hadn’t lain between us like a spike-filled trap, I would’ve hugged him. But things could never be so simple between us. Now that I understood what he wanted of me and I knew I’d never offer it, I couldn’t cuddle him like he was a brat in need of solace. He’d take it as encouragement and the cycle would start all over again. Maybe someday, like he’d said, we could be friends without all the complications. I’d hated the savage I met in the ruins but Stalker wasn’t that boy anymore, just as I wasn’t a pure Huntress. The world was a big place, full of wonders, and it had taught us both so many things. For his sake, I wished so many lessons hadn’t been hard, sad ones.

“I am. Mostly.” I was also panicked and exhilarated by turns.

“One thing I’ve wondered…”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Why does it have to be you?”

I wasn’t sure what he meant … and I said so.

“You’re out here when you could be safe in Soldier’s Pond or Gaspard, even, if you hadn’t nearly started a riot. At any point, you could lay your weapons down. Nobody’s ordering you to fight anymore. So why? You seem so committed to making things better. And I don’t understand it.”

The answer seemed obvious. “People go about their lives, trying to be small, hoping the Freaks will kill someone else, attack another town. How long does avoidance work until the whole world is drowning in blood? Somebody has to draw the line. And if not me, who?”

It was a compulsion, I supposed. The idea of sitting idle while everything burned? I just couldn’t do it. It would end me to do nothing when I could fight. Maybe I wasn’t meant for a peaceful life, and I could accept that. My only regret would be if I didn’t manage to improve the world a little before I went.

Stalker studied me with a mixture of emotions I couldn’t interpret. “We would’ve owned the ruins, you and me.”

I didn’t dispute his assessment. In another life, I might’ve been queen of the gangs, as he’d envisioned, but never in one where I knew Fade. That, too, was an immutable truth.

It was my turn to ask, “Why do you think there were no Freaks in your part of Gotham?”

“I wondered that. You said they were down below with you, as long as you can remember. Maybe they started there. People died of sickness Topside in our territory, but we never ran across any Muties, not like we saw in other ruins on the way north.”

“So you think the mutations happened belowground, and they were too dumb and weak to find their way out, at first?”

He nodded. “Maybe. As they got smarter, they located the exits.”

A sudden, chilling thought occurred to me. “Then that means the Freaks now swarming Gotham came from the enclaves, however long ago.”

Stalker looked thoughtful. “You told us Wilson said the monsters were born of weapons they created in the old world. It was a disease first, and the … vaccine made it worse?”

I nodded.

“Well, we don’t know how sickness spreads. So maybe people went underground to hide, not knowing they already had it.”

“It makes sense,” I admitted.

That was scary and awful. I hated the idea that diseases could hide in your body and you’d seem perfectly healthy while giving the illness to friends and family. I preferred enemies you could fight. At least the old world, with its hidden perils, was long lost.

And these days, the monsters came with claws and fangs, not in tins and bottles.

Triumph

Eventually the Freaks grew more cunning about their attacks. They came while we slept and in great numbers, but our traps maimed a good third of them, and we decimated the rest, first with death from the trees, and then in a hard-fought ground battles. Between skirmishes, we worked on improving the camp. And after the last fight, we went days without seeing a single monster. I took that as a good sign.

“It’s working,” Fade said. “Word’s getting out and they’re starting to avoid these woods.”

I hoped he was right.

As time wore on, the air took on a familiar chill, and the sky overhead went pale on those odd moments when I glimpsed it through a tangle of tree limbs. Morrow trained Tegan daily, and she grew proficient with the staff. As I watched her drill, I thought she’d do well. Life had taught her to be brave and strong—that as long as she didn’t give up, there was no such thing as defeat. Which made her a fighter as well as a healer, and I envied her that. Sometimes I wondered what—and who—I would be without my blades.

On days without combat, the rest of us sparred and scouted, tended the fire, enhanced the aerial defenses, set more traps, hunted, and cooked. The work wasn’t exciting, but it helped to have a routine, occasionally punctuated with violence. It had been two days since they’d attacked last, and I was starting to get restless when Stalker burst into the clearing.

He was out of breath, which usually meant inbound monsters. But this time he wore another expression. “There’s someone on the way to camp. I’ve been watching for a while, and he’s negotiated all of our defenses. What should we do?”

“He’s human?” Fade asked.

“Definitely.”

I made the decision swiftly. “Let him come. It’ll be a nice change to have company.”

The scouts dogged the stranger’s steps until he found the clearing. The older man wore an amazed expression as he took in what we’d built: the platforms and pulleys, the nets and makeshift roof built across the top. We’d created a tiny town in the treetops, and I was proud of it. Tully didn’t smile when she spotted him; she occupied her usual perch and, if he made trouble, she would shoot him without a qualm.

I recognized the fellow but couldn’t place where I’d seen him. He wore the raw skins and furs of one who made a living traveling the wilderness. All towns were glad to receive hides suitable for tanning. Along with other traders, trappers also played the role of messengers, carrying news from town to town.

“You didn’t find us by chance,” I said.

Fade stepped up beside me, then Stalker and Morrow flanked my other side. Part of me approved of this show of solidarity, but the other half was annoyed by the implication that I needed help dispatching one weathered old man, who killed animals for a living. I made mine battling something much more dangerous.

“I did not,” the trapper admitted. “I’ve survived the wilderness for years and I didn’t manage by being careless. When I noticed the Muties veering away from here, I was curious … and concerned. Then there was that giant plume of smoke…”

“You wondered what could be enough to frighten them away?” Morrow guessed.

“Exactly so, young sir.” He assessed the camp in a glance. “And I also wonder what you hope to gain by claiming this stretch of wood.”

That was a complicated question. He didn’t know about my big dreams or my larger failures. So I just leveled a hard look on him. “I reckon that’s our business. You’re welcome to our hospitality, provided you mean no harm, but our food and protection isn’t free.”

The trapper looked interested then. “What do you propose? I can’t imagine you’re interested in these skins. With all the traps I spotted on the way in, you must know how to hunt.”

“You must’ve learned some tricks over the years. So spend some time with my scouts. Teach them what you know, along with how you spotted our defenses and any tips you have for making them less visible.” I glanced at Stalker, asking with a silent brow whether he had anything to add to my offer.

He responded with a slight shake of his head.

“That’s fair,” the trapper answered, seeming pleased. “I’m John Kelley, by the way.”

“Deuce. Nice to meet you.”

We shook hands then, and out here, that was as good as a promise we wouldn’t try to kill each other. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

I fixed him a bowl of stew. For the moment, it was quiet; the scouts currently in the field would warn us if they detected an imminent attack and surely Kelley would’ve mentioned it if he’d spotted any Freaks in the vicinity. In past weeks, we’d gotten good at quick response to incoming enemies.

“Where did you come from?” Morrow asked.

“Most recently, Gaspard. I had enough credit to board for a while. But then the chits ran out and I have to stock up on skins to afford a warm place to spend the winter.”

That was where I’d seen him before. He had been part of the crowd watching the altercation with the guards. I felt better after I figured that out; it relieved the niggling suspicion that he’d come for some reason other than curiosity.

“You’re in a dangerous line of work,” I observed.

“Says the girl camped out in a Mutie-filled forest.” He had a point. “But I saw how you handled yourselves in town. You trying to keep the area clear?”

I nodded. “It’ll be better for Soldier’s Pond if the Muties think this territory’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“That where you’re from?”

“Some of us.” I didn’t bother to tell my real story.

But the minute I went off to tend other business, Morrow did. I heard him sharing the story as I had in my various speeches, only with considerably more eloquence. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I pretended they weren’t talking about me. Now and then, Kelley threw me an incredulous look as if he was thinking, Really? That girl? Morrow was a teller of tales, though, so there was no imagining what embellishments he might be adding. Good thing he was so skilled with his blade or I might stab him.

“Your face is on fire,” Fade said, smiling. “Just think, John Kelley will be able to say he met you just as it was all beginning.”

“What was?” I raised a brow.

“Your plan to save the world.”

I’d never put it in those precise terms, but I did want to improve things. Some people—like Tegan—were smart and could learn anything; they could make life better in all sorts of ways, but I had only one talent, just the one. It would be wrong not to use it as best I could.

I hunched my shoulders, feeling silly. “I don’t know if it can be saved. Things are pretty well broken. But maybe I can dig in and defend a corner of it.”

“That’s more than anyone else has tried to do.” Carefully, Fade wrapped an arm around my shoulder and I leaned into him.

His quiet support meant so much. Most of the others just wanted to kill Freaks. They didn’t have any faith that this served a greater purpose. Truth be told, I didn’t, either. I had learned a hard lesson. Just because I wanted something, it didn’t mean I could instantly achieve it, and this goal might be beyond my reach. I’d also realized what I should’ve known already—that anything worth doing took hard work. There was no wand like in Morrow’s stories, where problems went up in purple smoke.

So I’d keep on, even if it seemed fruitless, on the faint hope the world would be a safer place someday. I didn’t ever want to go through that fear again, as I stood beside the tunnel mouth, peering into darkness, and wondering if I’d ever see Momma Oaks and Edmund again.

“We can’t winter here,” I said softly. “Even if we haven’t made definite progress before the first snowfall, we still have to return to Soldier’s Pond.”

The idea horrified me, but I wouldn’t let the men starve or freeze over my pride. I’d bear all the jokes and the smug looks from Colonel Park, who thought I was a stupid girl with overly ambitious dreams. Maybe I should just take John Kelley’s arrival as proof that our efforts out here mattered. It was a big world with few travelers, yet he’d noticed us; we had changed the way the Freaks in the area behaved.

That was something.

“We have a few more weeks of autumn left. Something might happen,” Fade answered.

As it turned out, he was right. John Kelley had been eating our food and training our scouts for four days when the impossible occurred. Only, since it did, that meant it wasn’t impossible, just unlikely. I was standing beside the smoldering fire in the field past the forest, tending the bodies of the last beasts we’d slain, when a lone Freak loped toward me. I wasn’t frightened. I had my weapons and a few men nearby, including the trapper, John Kelley. Earlier, he had been much impressed by our efficiency in dispatching our enemies, and he’d expressed curiosity about how we handled the bodies.

There were five of us: Morrow, Fade, John Kelley, Tegan, and me. Tully and Spence were guarding the camp while the scouts kept an eye on our perimeter. Briefly, I wondered if this was a trap, but if so, it was an odd one. As it drew closer, the Freak slowed, something I had never witnessed before. The beast came toward us at a walk, head lowered as if in respect. The claws stayed at its sides.

“Well, what in the world do you make of this?” Kelley asked softly.

I shook my head. The counterman in Otterburn had said the Freaks had sent an envoy to make them the offer to submit, but they couldn’t be dumb enough to ask us to surrender when we were winning the War of the Trees. It was a small campaign, to be sure, but we had killed an impressive number of monsters in the last two months.

“Not fight,” the Freak called through a mouthful of fangs. “Talk.”

It had an odd voice, as if someone had mutilated its tongue, then strangled it; but it was unquestionably speaking, not echoing us, as none of us had yet said a word to the thing. Fade had his knives in hand already, and I admit, my fingers were twitching. I didn’t know how I felt about this development, but it couldn’t be easy, facing us beside the smoky corpse-fire of its own kin. That required a special kind of bravery … or stupidity. Possibly both.

I motioned the others to back up. “All right.”

“Not happening,” Fade answered.

His knuckles whitened on his blades; it seemed to require all of his self-control not to slay the monster straightaway. So I let it go and he remained at my side. The others backed off, but shock and amazement dominated their expressions.

Morrow whispered, “It seems the chap in Otterburn was speaking the truth after all.”

Tegan drew in a sharp breath, her eyes wide. “I never dreamed…”

The Freak stopped eight paces away. At this distance, I could see its eyes—and they were different, even more than the ones I’d killed outside Salvation. Savage intellect glimmered as it studied me in turn. I wondered whether it had learned our language from its captives. My heart was pounding like mad. Though I’d killed hundreds of these monsters, I’d never conversed with one. I didn’t know anyone who had. Beside me, Fade made a sound deep in his throat, full of rage and pain. Quietly I offered my hand to ground him and he took it.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“Forest yours. Not to pass. If not pass, not kill.” It seemed to require a great deal of thought for the creature to produce this scant number of words.

I clarified, “You acknowledge that we own the forest? And you want us to stop killing you, if you stay out of it?”

I suspected it was asking us to let the Freaks alone, as long as they didn’t trespass inside the woods. Since they had to go through those trees to get to Soldier’s Pond, that sounded like a step forward, a success I could take pride in when we returned to town. The Freak’s prominent brow furrowed as it apparently tried to sift the meaning from all my talking.

Then it said, “Yes.”

Yet I didn’t know whether I could trust it. “Give me one good reason not to add your body to the pile here.”

“If no return, others join big group.”

It means the horde. A shiver worked through me. “So you’re not with them?”

The Freak appeared to recognize my dread. “No. Could make alliance. Bad for you.”

This was a stunning revelation: There were different factions among the Freaks. Did that mean they all had different agendas? With each generation, their ideas and priorities changed more. Since humans didn’t all have the same goals, I could credit that the Freaks might disagree about the best course, so maybe most of them—the horde—wanted to kill us, a few reckoned they should rule us, like in Otterburn, and a small number feared us. The situation would only worsen too, if they kept getting smarter. Soon they’d know all our tricks; and if the horde won over the rest to the idea of extinguishing the human race, well. At this rate, it wouldn’t take long.

So if the Freaks who roved near Soldier’s Pond agreed to a truce, it would grant the settlement time to improve their defenses as well as some much-needed peace of mind. Yet I couldn’t assent too quickly. It would make us seem weak—and terrified of the horde, which we were, but it was better if the messenger didn’t see that.

Tegan asked, “Who does this truce apply to? I mean, which of you will honor it?”

“Mine,” the Freak answered. “All of mine.”

That didn’t give me enough information, as there were different subgroups—tribes—within the whole. I’d love to know how many, where their territory ended. We’d speculated about that when we found the Freak village near Salvation. Some monsters hunted and killed, and there were small ones, so that meant they bred like any natural creature. A portion must stay home to care for the young, but I had no other insights regarding their customs or culture.

Fade pulled me aside before I could ask anything else. “Are you sure about this? I don’t trust it.”

Morrow stepped up with one hand on his blade, making sure the monster didn’t try anything while we were distracted. I appreciated his vigilance even as John Kelley loosened his rifle from its comfortable perch on his back. Fade and I didn’t have long to talk before this encounter turned ugly—and I had no reason to doubt the Freak when it said the survivors in the area would join the horde, if it failed to return. Not the most desirable outcome. Fade had terrible memories of his time in captivity, and it hurt me to think of adding to his suffering.

“You don’t think we should accept?”

He curled one hand into a fist. “I’d rather kill it. But then, I want all of them dead. So I’m not impartial.”

I turned back to the Freak. “Has your tribe ever taken human hostages?” It was the only question I could think to ask that might give Fade some peace with this arrangement. If the answer was affirmative, then I’d turn them down, however grave the consequences might be.

“What is ‘hostage’?” it asked.

Tegan offered, “Stolen humans, kept for food?”

“Old ones do. For us, too much trouble. Humans noisy.”

“Are the old ones part of the big group you mentioned?” Morrow inquired.

“Yes.” The monster snarled, seeming agitated. “No more talk. Deal or no deal?”

I glanced at Fade. “Can you live with this?” Drawing a deep breath, he nodded. We had only this monster’s word that his tribe hadn’t kidnapped and hurt Fade, but it had to suffice. “Deal. But it will go hard for you if any of your folk break this bargain.”

We were already slaughtering them in droves and burning their bodies as a warning and posting their heads on pickets. The men had even started taking fangs to wear on leather thongs around their necks, trophies from our kills. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to do worse, but the Freak didn’t know that. It seemed to take my threat seriously as it lowered its face almost to the ground. A glance at John Kelley said he was taking it all in, eyes huge in his weathered face.

“Why aren’t you with the horde?” Tegan asked, frowning in puzzlement. “You’d have a better chance of surviving.”

“‘Horde’ is big group?” At my friend’s nod, the monster replied, “Horde wrong. Better to die than follow. Good-bye, Huntress.”

Morrow exhaled in a long rush. “That sounded like a moral judgment.”

They know of me? I was stunned into silence.

When the Freak ran off, Kelley rubbed his bristly jaw. “That was … something. Did you notice how it showed submission there at the end?”

Fade nodded. “It made my flesh crawl, hearing it speak. I’m not used to thinking of them as anything but mindless monsters.”

He wasn’t alone in that.

Morrow tipped his head toward the woods. “That’s our cue. We should tell the others, then pack things up. We’ve won a concession from the Freaks, and the colonel needs to know that it’s possible.”

I didn’t know whether it was the best course to abandon the ground we’d only recently gained but with the first snow due any day now, I couldn’t rationalize keeping us in the field much longer. Historically speaking, the winter months slowed Freak activity. They might be faster and stronger and might be able to go longer without food and water, but they froze just like humans. The horde might diminish through starvation by the time spring rolled around again.

I could hope anyway.

“Let’s give it two days, make sure we don’t see any movement. They might’ve put a sentry near the camp to see how we respond.”

“If there are any Freaks in the wood,” Fade said, “then the scouts will find them.”

Homeward

Though we waited the full two days, the scouts spotted no Freaks within the posted boundary. At that point, I gave orders for us to move out. It was just as well, for as we gathered the last of our supplies, the first white flakes drifted down through the bare branches. I was a little sorry to be leaving, but we couldn’t survive the winter here. Game would be scarce, and exposure would end us.

John Kelley traveled with us to Soldier’s Pond. “I was on my way there anyway. The trip to see about your smoke signal was a detour.”

That reminded me. “Is that common? Once, somebody saved us because he saw our fire. Does it usually mean the party needs help?”

“Depends,” Kelley answered. “But often, yes. A smart traveler doesn’t light a fire, unless he needs it for some vital reason, and he never lets it get big enough to be seen for miles. Anybody who does is essentially inviting all travelers in the area. It could be benign, a request to trade, could be somebody’s sick or hurt, could be a trap. So it’s best to be prepared if you ever answer one like I did.”

Like Longshot had.

“I understand.”

“I feel like I have to ask. Is everything that rascal Morrow told me true?”

“About me?” I shrugged. “Some of it. Not the part where I was raised by wolves, suckled by bears, and that I can fly.”

Kelley laughed. Before he could respond, though, we were approaching Soldier’s Pond, close enough that the guard called out in surprise, “I thought the lot of you were dead. You’ve been gone a long time.”

Morrow shouted back, “Tell the colonel she owes me a drink.”

That made no sense at all to me, but I didn’t have the chance to ask what he meant as the guards were lowering the defenses to permit us inside. The town looked more or less the same, squads running even in this weather, all dressed in drab green. Soldiers at the gate peppered us with questions about where we’d been—what towns, what was it like out there—and it occurred to me this wasn’t so different from Salvation. People were being strangled in Soldier’s Pond in the name of security. Colonel Park kept them safe, at the cost of their spirits. More than ever, I wanted to change the prevailing conditions so that people could visit nearby Winterville or Otterburn without losing their lives.

“This way,” Morrow said, sidestepping the questions. Over his shoulder he called, “If you wanted to share our adventures, you should’ve signed on. Now you’ll have to wonder.”

That was unlike him, but the rest of us followed. People watched and whispered as we passed through. A few of them called out to John Kelley, who apparently wasn’t a stranger. He’d probably visited the same towns we had, only with less resistance and difficulty. A woman stopped him and asked for news in Appleton. He waved to let me know he’d be along.

The lot of us went directly to HQ in all our forest dirt. It wasn’t as bad as it might’ve been since there was a brook nearby, but scrubbing with pine branches was scratchy, incomplete, and left you smelling of sap. I hadn’t washed my hair properly in weeks. But I wasn’t worried about any of that as Morrow interrupted the colonel’s meeting with the grand pleasure of someone about to prove a point.

I opened my mouth, but he shushed me. Glancing at the others, I decided they had no idea of his agenda, but I obeyed and quieted. At that point, he spun an impressive tale of a long journey and an impossible goal full of obstacles and monsters. That was when I figured out he was crafting a proper story about what we’d accomplished since we left. When he finished, every soul in the building was quiet, even Colonel Park.

She stared at him. “Swear to me on your mother’s name, everything you’ve said is true.”

“The meat and bone of it,” he promised. “I always paint a pretty face, but I never lie, Emilia.” Then, to my surprise—and I think everyone in the room—he kissed both her cheeks. Clearly I didn’t understand their relationship. “This changes everything.”

“I didn’t think it was possible for those monsters to learn,” she said, almost to herself.

I spoke for the first time. “They’re definitely changing.”

It wasn’t clear to me what our role was in Soldier’s Pond. We didn’t report to her, but it seemed polite to offer what knowledge we’d gathered in exchange for supplies and shelter. So I picked up where Morrow’s tale left off, and I filled in details, mostly related to altered Freak behavior, but also about towns we’d visited and the deal the Freaks had offered Otterburn.

Her normally detached expression faltered, revealing a trace of pure horror. She mastered it swiftly, but not before I saw the truth. The colonel averted her eyes, directing them to her maps. With a pencil she outlined the territory we had secured.

“So this is promised to be Mutie-free?”

I nodded. “We weren’t fighting the horde, just hunting parties, but it should help. If the larger group decides to attack, however, the truce means nothing.”

“It’s more than I thought you’d achieve when you set out,” she admitted.

“Just think what we could do if your men weren’t all such cowards,” Stalker said flatly.

Things went downhill from there. Shortly afterward, I left HQ, longing for a bath and to see my family, definitely in that order. I shrugged deeper into the coat Edmund had made for me—it was soft leather lined in fleece shorn from the sheep they kept in the animal pens. That part of town was noisy and smelly, unavoidable when space was limited. In Soldier’s Pond they addressed that by making people sleep in narrow cots stacked one atop another; there was little focus on private space like there had been in Salvation. In some ways, this town was more like down below with its focus on duty to the collective, the dearth of amenities, and savorless food. On the plus side, they didn’t seem to mind who did the killing or wore pants. From what I could see, everybody here worked as a Hunter. They just had to turn their hands to other jobs too. That probably explained why the clothes were poorly sewn and the food was terrible. Anyone with a grain of sense knew you needed Builders like Edmund too.

“I’ll meet you in the mess for dinner,” I said to Fade, who kissed the top of my head.

I lifted a hand in farewell and hurried to the bathhouse, empty at this time of day. The scarcity of the sun meant the water was only a little better than ice cold; I bore it, though the soft soap didn’t lather much and it took me twice as long to scrape the wilderness out of my hair. After, I dug out the clean traveling clothes I kept aside for special occasions. As I tugged on the dun brown trousers with a tie at the waist, I knew a moment’s regret for the loss of the dresses I hadn’t even wanted at first. But by the time I had my shirt on, my lovely, polished boots, and the lined jacket, I didn’t care so much. It was better to be warm than pretty.

My hair went into neat plaits, and I hoped they didn’t freeze as I stepped out into the biting air. The snow had followed us from the forest, white stars now slanting downward from a gray sky. I ran all the way to the house where I’d find my parents waiting; it was late enough that Edmund might even be done at the workshop. To my delight, I found all of them there, just gathering for dinner.

“Deuce!” Momma Oaks had her arms around me before I was halfway in the door.

“I don’t think I ever said it, but I love you all … very much.”

Edmund and Rex both grabbed me close until I was squashed on all sides. It was pretty close to the best I ever felt. I tried to hug my whole family at the same time but my arms weren’t long enough. My mother kissed me all over my cold cheeks. Her eyes were sparkling when she stepped back to look at me.

“Well, you’re not bleeding, so I take it your mission was a success?”

“In a manner of speaking. I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”

“Are you home for a while?” Edmund asked.

They got their own coats and stepped out. My father stared up anxiously at the sky, and I could tell without him saying it that he was worried about us traveling in this weather. “I think so. There isn’t a whole lot we can do during the snowy months.”

Momma Oaks nodded in satisfaction. “It’s odd here, but we’re pulling our weight, and the men seem to like Edmund’s work awfully well.”

“I imagine.” I’d seen what they wore before; Edmund’s shoes were magical by comparison.

“They’ve got us making leather grips for weapons,” Rex put in.

“I suspect they’ll make a permanent exception for you,” I said. “If you want to stay.”

“Where would we go?” Momma Oaks asked.

It was an excellent question. So far, in my travels, I hadn’t found a place I thought would suit them better. Considering all the soldiers, the metal defenses, and cache of weapons, plus the extra breathing room I’d won from the Freaks, I couldn’t fathom a safer place. Whether they were happy and comfortable, if they actually felt at home, those were questions I didn’t dare ask.

To my astonishment, when I strode into the mess hall, applause broke out. Some of the men rose to their feet and saluted me, just like they did the colonel or some other important person who ran around barking orders. I glanced over my shoulder in reflex, thinking they must mean somebody else, and Edmund nudged me.

“You have to acknowledge them somehow, so they can go back to their meals.”

This was all completely new to me, so I racked my brain for what would serve, then I touched my brow with two fingers as Longshot had when he was being respectful of some good idea. The soldiers loved it; some stomped their feet, and others banged cutlery on the table until the cook yelled at them to pipe down.

“My goodness,” Momma Oaks said. “What in the world did you do out there?”

“Let’s get our food, then I’ll tell you.”

The story was half over, though not as exciting as Morrow made it sound, when Fade arrived. Since the rest of us had barely touched our meals, he had plenty of time to catch up. Rex and Edmund offered their hands to shake and Momma Oaks contented herself with a warm smile, though she wanted to squeeze him. But she was an observant woman, and she’d doubtless noticed the way he pulled his body in when surrounded by people.

“You missed the hero’s welcome,” I teased.

Fade shrugged. “That was for you anyway.”

“We all earned it.”

“I’m just so proud of you,” Momma Oaks said.

Once, that kind of remark would’ve puzzled me. She’d had nothing to do with my training, so why would she feel anything about my accomplishments? But now I knew that love made her care about all things related to me—and I felt the same way. I would never tell them, because it would worry them more, but I might be more interested in waiting out the time until I was old enough to enlist, and then just quietly joining the soldiers here, if it wasn’t for them. But I wanted them to be happy; I wanted to give them a home as snug and safe as the one they’d freely offered me. Accomplishing that required more than mere patience.

My family asked us questions others didn’t think to pose, like what kind of shoes and clothes they wore in other towns. Did I think they could master the patterns? Dinner passed in an agreeable fashion, and as we left, Fade whispered, “I could really use some time alone with you.”

There was no privacy in the bunks where we all slept, and I didn’t know of any conveniently empty houses here. I must’ve looked conflicted because he added, low, “Just meet me out back after everyone’s asleep.”

Then Edmund dragged him off to see some improvements he’d made to the workshop and Rex went along. That left me to walk back to the house with Momma Oaks. She put an arm around my shoulders, which took some doing as I was a little taller than she was. I hunched a little to make it easier, and she gave me that glowing look, the one that said all kinds of happy things, like, I love you and I’m proud and I’m thrilled you’re here. Before I met the Oakses, nobody much cared about my comings-and-goings, so long as I followed orders.

“I’ve been wondering about something,” I said, as we stepped into the house.

This time, I got a better look at the place, and I saw she’d made it homier. The beds had been moved to a less rigid arrangement, and she’d found some chairs—or maybe Rex or Edmund had built them. There were other small touches as well: wall hangings that I was sure she’d made from scraps of cloth, most of which were green. It seemed to be the only color this settlement knew how to produce.

“What’s that?”

“Some people have two names, like you and John Kelley, the trapper we met. Why?”

“The first is the name my parents gave me, the last a family one.” She fixed a stern look on me. “And you do have a second name, missy. You’re Deuce Oaks. We claimed you as ours, and I’ll tell Edmund if I hear any nonsense about you rejecting our surname.”

I was astonished. “Nobody told me that joining a family meant taking their name.”

“I suppose not.” Her gaze softened.

“But what about Fade? Is he a Jensen now?” I curled one hand into a fist, ready to fight at the idea that he had to carry a permanent reminder of the man who’d hurt him.

She shook her head. “He’s one of ours too.”

“So we’re both Oakses?” I asked.

“To my mind, you are. I love that boy like a son.”

“But if I’m your daughter and he’s your son—”

She cut me off with a harried wave of one hand. “Don’t make things complicated, Deuce. There’s no blood relation.”

That wasn’t even what I was about to say. I knew I wasn’t related to Fade on the bloodline tree, so that we could breed, should I want that down the line. “No, you told me once that when people join up and make their promises, they take the same name. Does that mean Fade and I already did that?” I was a little confused by this point.

She sighed. “No. But you’re all set for when you do.”

I liked how she had no doubt that we belonged together—like the day boy and the night girl, we’d end up together forever. That was good enough for me … but much as I was enjoying this reunion, I couldn’t wait until my family fell asleep.

Interlude

The moon was a silver crescent brightening the gauzy veil of the midnight sky. With the snow still coming down in lazy flutters, I saw the cold in the smoky whorls of my breath. I gazed up as I followed Fade silently. My feet crunched on the layer of snow, untouched apart from the watchmen who patrolled the town at night. There wasn’t a curfew, but if they caught us wandering at this hour, there would be questions. I didn’t imagine they would look kindly on “we missed sparking” as an answer.

Fade’s hand was warm when he wrapped it around mine. He tugged. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He shushed me with such obvious delight that I didn’t have the heart to ask again. He wanted to surprise me, so I let him. Our destination was a medium-size building with smoke wafting up. That meant there was a fire lit inside, and considering how cold it had become and how much snow had accumulated during the day, I was glad to see it. After jiggling the door just so, he popped it open. Within lay some kind of meeting place, but more comfortable than HQ. Instead of tables there were padded chairs and sofas scattered throughout. Shelving contained a few old books, most in worse condition than The Day Boy and the Night Girl.

“What is this?” I asked, stepping in.

“The officers’ club. It’s where they go in their off hours to drink and avoid their families.”

That sounded odd. “Are you sure nobody will catch us?”

He shook his head. “They’re asleep by now. I’ve come here to think more than once, and nobody bothered me. The enlisted men are afraid of punishment, so they don’t trespass. As long as we don’t turn on any lights or make a ton of noise, none of the watchmen will come in.”

The fire had burned down low, so Fade moved to stir it, churning the glowing orange sparks through the ashes, then he added a length of wood from the pile. With careful management, the blaze caught, then he beckoned me to the sofa nearest the hearth. It was old and worn, like most things in Soldier’s Pond; I could see where the leather had been poorly patched.

It was toasty in here compared with the outdoors. I imagined being in the woods and shivered. Fade pulled me down beside him, probably believing I was cold. I didn’t enlighten him as I settled against his side. Warmth prickled over my skin, both from the cheerful fire and his proximity.

“This is a nice surprise.” I hadn’t known there was anyplace we could escape to, here.

“It’s not the same,” he said.

I knew what he meant. The first night we stayed together, there had been candles and kissing, whispered words and inexpressible sweetness.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Holding his gaze with mine, I waited until he offered permission in the form of a quick nod. Then I touched his cheek with gentle fingertips, tracing over to his temple. I feathered my hand into his hair. His breath caught, but I didn’t think it was because I was hurting or scaring him. Still, I paused to make sure he was still with me. His eyes were dark and hot, half lidded.

“More,” he whispered.

I obliged. Shaping his head with my fingertips, I petted him as I had done the night he slept with his head in my lap. And by his expression, he remembered. Maybe I could help by reminding him of all the good feelings that came along with being touched. I was slow and gentle, no sudden movements, and when I grazed the nape of his neck with my nails, he actually shivered. Fade leaned closer, then wrapped his arms around me. He didn’t seem to be thinking at all anymore, his face soft and dreamy.

When he kissed the side of my throat, I bit my lip. It felt surprisingly good. He followed with more kisses just beneath my jaw. His skin rasped slightly against mine, reminding me that he was a man, not a boy, and he’d shaved off the scruffy beard grown over weeks in the wild. My heartbeat quickened as his mouth grew more heated, and he hadn’t even touched my lips. He was breathing fast when he put a hand on my shoulder. He urged me back on the sofa, and I let him because I had the odd desire for him to cover me like a blanket. Fade made a satisfied sound as he lay down, and then he kissed me.

My eyes closed. The feeling exploded like embers of the fire, kindling into a full burn. It was a summer sky of a kiss, breathless and endlessly blue, full of berry sweetness and sunshine. That long, luxuriant tasting turned into smaller kisses, our lips touching again and again, until we were both shivering, despite the warmth of the room. Fade drew back and framed my face in his palms; I could see powerful emotion working in his eyes.

“I was afraid,” he whispered. “But I was wrong to be. This … this is still perfect, even if I’m not.”

“I’m not, either,” I whispered.

I moved beneath him and his expression grew pained. He pushed back before he could help himself, teasing us both. In that moment, I’d have given him anything.

“This is…” He trailed off as I settled beneath him, finding the right fit.

“We could.” I knew exactly what I was suggesting.

“Not here, with no guarantee of privacy. It should be special.”

Fade shifted then, drawing me into his arms. We twined like tree and vine, his legs tangled with mine, and I lay so I could feel the warmth of the fire on my back. I kissed his neck.

“I love you.” His voice came low and rough.

“I love you too.” My response was smooth and easy, as if I had been waiting my whole life to offer him those words. No doubts, no hesitations. This feeling was woven through me until it seemed like it would kill me to root it out.

“Thanks for not giving up on me.”

“Have you ever known me to walk away from a fight?” I cocked a brow in challenge.

Fade laughed softly. “Never.”

“We should get back before someone catches us … or Momma Oaks notices we’re gone.”

With a groan, he let go of me. I took that for agreement. As we slipped out of the officers’ club, the night was still quiet with the moon reflecting off the new fallen snow. Our tracks had been covered so we made new ones back to the barracks.

But Fade left me there with a rueful shake of his head. “I can’t come to bed yet. I’m going for a run.”

I blushed because I understood why. So I slid into bed, but not before Momma Oaks raised up on an elbow and fixed me with a sleepy, pointed look. It said, You haven’t gotten away with anything. For some reason, I wanted to laugh, but that would wake Edmund and Rex, so I just rolled into my blankets. I barely stirred when Fade got into the bunk above mine.

And in the morning, everything was different.

I didn’t understand the shift at first, but soldiers I didn’t know greeted me by name. A few stopped me to ask about the Freak fang necklaces my men wore, and a sentry called down from the tower, “Let’s hear it for Company D!”

In the mess, I found my men all sitting together, including Stalker’s scouts. They waved me over to join them. I brought my food, surprised by their camaraderie. Both success and failure created bonds, I supposed, and we’d seen our share of each while we traveled.

“Does anyone know why we’re getting VIP treatment?” Tully wanted to know.

“What’s a VIP?” I was glad Stalker asked, because I didn’t know, either.

“Very important person.” Morrow grinned. “I might’ve had something to do with that. Between my account of the treaty and the talking Freak, they think we can move mountains.”

“Deuce especially,” Spence noted.

I mumbled a curse. “What did you tell them?”

“So what’s the plan for the spring campaign?” Thornton interrupted, changing the subject.

They took it for granted we’d be going out again—that we wouldn’t rest on our laurels once the cold weather passed. In all honesty, I had no grand scheme, but I didn’t care to disappoint them. So I considered while I ate my breakfast, listening to them swap jests. Fade sat beside me, quiet, but not in a sad or brooding way, more quietly watchful, the way he’d been before the Freaks took him.

“Scouting first,” I said in the first lull. “After the thaw. To plan, I need intel on how much of the horde survived the winter. Fortunately, the Muties aren’t as good at strategy yet.”

“Yet,” Tully muttered.

I nodded at her. “Who knows how fast they’ll catch on? Once we know how many are left and where they’re headed, we can decide what to do.”

Nobody laughed or said that twelve soldiers couldn’t make a difference. We already had.

“You know my favorite part of this?” Spence grinned as he asked the question.

I shook my head. “What?”

“We’re all off the regular duty rosters. That means no midnight watches, no patrols outside the fence, no cooking, cleaning the bathhouse, or working in the animal sheds.”

Thornton smirked. “That is a boon. I can’t remember the last time I had an easy winter.”

“If anyone complains,” Morrow put in, “tell them you’re part of Company D.”

I glanced at Tegan, who shook her head. “I heard it, but I don’t know what it means.”

“It’s our squad name,” Morrow said.

“Who came up with it?” Stalker asked.

The storyteller’s expression grew crafty. “The men who want to join up. I’ve been spreading the word about our success, and they decided the squad should be named after Deuce.”

I suspected there might be more to say, but he didn’t, and I was too delighted at learning we had more potential recruits to pursue the matter. That day, ten men approached me quietly and asked whether I’d consider letting them volunteer when we marched out for the second time, Harry Carter among them. He’d wanted to come before, but he wasn’t strong enough. Whether it was the first taste of success or the idea of getting off the duty roster, I wasn’t sure, but I told all of them that they were welcome. The following night, I spoke to five more.

A week later, Zach Bigwater approached me. He was the only member of his family to survive the fire, and for a while, I didn’t know whether he’d make it. For weeks, he didn’t speak and it was a chore for Tegan to get him to eat. But he came to me that afternoon.

“I want to join Company D,” he said without preamble.

“Why?”

“Because I’m tired of feeling helpless.”

“I think you need to tell me what happened in Salvation.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “So many people died because of me.”

“The town was under siege. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was,” he said heavily. “I ran and hid. I was paralyzed when the walls came down. I should’ve told somebody sooner about the tunnel, but I couldn’t make myself move, even as people died all around me. I’m a coward.”

His actions didn’t recommend him as a volunteer, but I thought I understood why he wanted to fight. “And you’re looking to redeem yourself now, prove something?”

“If it’s possible,” he whispered.

“Then welcome aboard.” I’d keep an eye on him, but I couldn’t turn anyone away.

The number of fresh volunteers trickled off as the weeks wore on, and the snow piled higher. During the cold months, I kept my men sharp. I asked for—and received—an indoor training yard. The colonel responded with her typical ambivalence … and put us in the cowshed. With the animals in their stalls, there was room for us to spar … and I pushed the others, myself as well. We drilled hard, practiced fighting as a group, worked out silent command signals and battle strategies for all kinds of scenarios. Word got out about our sessions, and the men who had asked to join up, but were not yet officially part of Company D, worked in their off hours, concerned about keeping up with us.

By the time the snow started to melt, we were all stronger, and Tegan was a wonder with her staff, banded properly with metal for optimal impact. All over Soldier’s Pond, they called us an elite unit, which meant we were really good at fighting.

To my astonishment, I trotted out Silk’s old lectures. I think she’d be pleased. “Don’t waste your energy. Kill quickly. We’ll be battling superior numbers, so save your strength. No showing off, just take your opponent down, then move on to the next.”

I watched them spar for a few seconds, shaking my head. “Thornton, you’re working too hard. Yes, you’re a brute, but crushing skulls is exhausting. I need you to kill faster.”

“I’m an old man.” But it wasn’t a protest; it was a statement—unbelievable to have this grizzled veteran taking criticism from me so readily. “Show me an easier way.”

Over the past month, it had become apparent that he had little hand-to-hand training, so I put him with Stalker. Eventually I got him to use two small hand axes instead of weights in his fists. The blades were heavy enough that he felt comfortable with them, well suited to efficient hacking motions that should drop Freaks quicker.

In early March, Stalker and five scouts went out to locate the horde. It was a risky mission, and I worried the whole time they were gone. The rest of us continued training; I had to feel confident we’d function as a unit when we moved out. A week later, the scouting party returned, half frozen and starved, but full of interesting information. Stalker dismissed the others while he and I went to the mess. It wasn’t open for meals, but there were always drinks available.

I poured two mugs of herbal tea from the warm pot and settled at our usual table. Stalker’s skin was ruddy and chapped, his lips split. Despite melting snow and occasional bursts of sunshine, the weather was still raw. I hoped that meant bad things for the enemy. With so many animals in hibernation, game was scarce this time of year. With any luck, the horde had to turn most of its attention to finding food rather than attacking human settlements.

“It’s bad,” he said quietly. “Appleton is gone.”

That hit me hard. They’d laughed at us there, less extreme than the hanging they threatened in Gaspard, but still bad enough that I had unpleasant memories of the place. Appleton was bigger than Salvation, but less defensible; I suspected it hadn’t been a problem when the Freaks were scattered nuisances. People who hadn’t seen the horde before it swept down on them couldn’t imagine the sheer numbers … or the horror, so I didn’t blame them for the reaction, but it was horrible they’d paid such a high price for their skepticism.

“Survivors?”

“No. They butchered the townsfolk, and the horde seems to be digging in. Looked like fewer bodies than last time, but there’s still a couple thousand of them.”

“I hoped the cold would cull more of them.”

Stalker shook his head, sipping his hot drink. “I bet that’s why they took Appleton. They’re roasting the townsfolk, plus they have shelter and supplies. They’ll be fine until spring.”

This was just the kind of news I dreaded. I was sure Appleton’s relative lack of defenses had contributed to the horde’s decision to sack that town first. Soldier’s Pond would’ve required a lot more time and effort. And in the cold with a weakening force, it made sense to take out a soft target. Come spring, however, every town in the territories would be at risk.

“Will you tell the colonel?” I asked.

He nodded, offering a half-smile. “I appreciate you asking me instead of ordering.”

“You run the scouts, not me. I just thought she might benefit from the information.”

If the loss of a town within two weeks of travel didn’t alarm her, the colonel wasn’t as smart as I thought. This gave the horde a terrifying foothold in the area. When the weather improved, they’d consider what target to eliminate next. If they came to Soldier’s Pond, it’d mean a long, ugly siege. Eventually, the Freaks would figure out how to get around—or tear down—the fences, or the ammo stockpile would run out.

I couldn’t let that happen to my family. Not again.

Entreaty

It was just after the noon meal when the messenger arrived from Winterville. I had been braced for bad news since I heard Stalker’s report, so I wasn’t surprised by the urgency. The runner was ragged and thin; and by his various wounds, he wasn’t accustomed to traveling. The odd thing about his injuries, though … they didn’t look as if a Freak had inflicted them. I strode up to the guards listening to his breathless stammers—and my status in town had changed to the point that none of them questioned my presence. They were used to seeing me roam in and out of HQ, consulting with Colonel Park on concerns she didn’t share with anyone but her advisors.

“We need help,” the man was gasping.

“Muties?” Morgan asked. I had learned that he was married to the colonel, not that they were effusive in their public affections.

Since Winterville was closer than Salvation, it was possible we could mount a successful defense, depending on the nature of the attack. The weather wasn’t ideal for mobilizing, but if we packed well and moved fast, we might be able to hit them from behind. As I recalled, the research annex was mostly built from a peculiar, wrinkled metal, so at least it wouldn’t burn before we got there. The rest of the houses might well be gone, however.

The messenger shook his head, startling us all. “Dr. Wilson said to find Deuce. He said to tell her there’s trouble on the south side—that she’ll know what it means.”

I bit out a curse. Whatever they had done with their feral humans, containment must’ve failed. And from what I recalled of Winterville, they had no dedicated warriors. It was an odd little town, no mistake, but that didn’t mean they all deserved to be killed because Wilson was a madman who invented crazy potions and tested them on his own people.

“Get this man some medical attention,” I said to the guards. “Then find him some hot food. I’ll take it from here.”

It wasn’t until I was walking away, and I heard Morgan say, “Come on, we’ll take you to see Doc Tegan first,” that it fully sank in just how much things had changed.

Those men took my orders without question, and they weren’t even part of Company D. My shoulders squared, and I walked a little taller on the way to HQ. Inside, the colonel was waiting for my word on the situation.

Quickly I summarized the problem, then reminded her of what Wilson had told me. She listened with her usual acuity. Since our go-round earlier in the year when I’d threatened to cut her throat, the colonel treated me with caution and respect. I’d come to the conclusion she wasn’t a bad person, but like Silk, she had the ability to make awful choices for the good of the whole. It wasn’t a trait I coveted.

“Do you have any idea how many infected souls we’re talking about?”

I shook my head. “They won’t be as smart as the Muties we’ve been fighting, though. Wilson said their higher brain function was compromised.” Though I wasn’t fully clear on what that meant, I guessed they’d be like the Freaks I fought first, down below.

“So you don’t know how many men you need.”

“I have forty-four at last count.” Such a small crew, compared with the horde, but we’d likely be equal to the problems in Winterville.

“Then handle it. By the way, I’ve decided to commission Company D formally for rescue operations. Given what we know of mutant intentions and numerical advantage, it seems likely more of these requests will arrive. You’ll retain command and will assess all threats and determine the best response, according to our resources.”

“I thought I wasn’t old enough to enlist,” I said.

“And you haven’t. Elite squads aren’t subject to the same regulations.” By her smug smile, she was pleased at getting around the rules while still finding a use for my team.

“With respect, sir, I decline your offer. I intend to take anyone who will join up, not just men from Soldier’s Pond.” I struggled with how to word my explanation. “Our cause still isn’t about defending towns … Company D is meant to end the Mutie threat. So while we’ll handle appeals for help if they come while we’re in town, I can’t guarantee we will be. The fight’s out there, and I intend to be too, as long as the weather holds. Right now, we don’t have the numbers to face the horde, but someday…” I trailed off, my meaning plain.

This time, she didn’t laugh.

“I understand.” Her eyes were sad, but her tone was brisk when she added, “You’ll need to brief your men and get moving. No telling how bad it is in Winterville.”

“Yes, sir.” I didn’t salute her when I left, as the others did.

Colonel Park wasn’t my leader. I shared information with her out of respect, not obligation. I’d meant it when I said she’d get nothing else out of me. I wasn’t a little black piece on her maps, willing to move against the red markers at her will.

When I met the men, already assembled in the shed for afternoon training, I gave them the quick rundown. I finished with “Get your gear. We’re moving in an hour.”

It didn’t take long to raid my footlocker and pack my things. I was lacing up my boots when Momma Oaks found me. She was carrying a bundle; I first thought she’d made some more clothes. Then she unfolded the fabric, and the shape marked it as wrong for a shirt or a gown.

The material was plain, the first I’d seen since my arrival that hadn’t been dyed olive drab. She had cut it into a triangle and banded the edges in green. Square in the middle sat a stitched version of my personal token, a black spade with a two on top of it. The dark symbol looked powerful against the pale background, more so because she’d embroidered a red border. She had precious few supplies left from her seamstress work in Salvation, and I couldn’t believe she’d used them up to make such a thing for me.

I also didn’t know what it was.

“It’s a pennant,” she explained. “I read in a book where warriors used to fly their colors when they went to war, so all their enemies would see them and despair.”

This … this was the truest love. She hated it every time I went out, but because she loved me, she supported me, even though it scared her. A fist tightened around my heart.

“Thank you,” I said. “It’s wonderful. How am I supposed to display it?”

“On a short pole, I think. I have Edmund working on it.”

“We’re leaving soon,” I said, hating to disappoint her.

“I know. He’ll be along shortly.” Momma Oaks paused. “Do you trust me, Deuce?”

“Of course.”

“Then let me have your token.”

My hand went to the hidden pocket in my shirt reflexively. Over the course of my travels, the card had become more bloodstained, but I had never lost it. I fought the urge to ask why; instead I proved my faith by producing it and offering it to her without a word. My mother smiled as she got out her needle, then she sewed the card into the center of the banner.

“Now it’s finished. This represents your fighting spirit and I truly believe as long as you keep it safe, you cannot fail.”

Tears sprang to my eyes at how she had combined her greatest skill with my custom, one she probably didn’t even believe in. Shakily I hugged her and whispered, “Thank you.”

She pushed out a long breath, then said, “Rex wants to go with you.”

I froze. “How do you feel about that?”

“When we first arrived, he was grieving over Ruth, and I was afraid he’d do something foolish. But now it’s been long enough…” I heard what she didn’t say. She wanted him to follow his heart, even if it was worrisome.

“He hasn’t said anything to me or attended any of our drills. Tell him if he still wants to join up, it needs to be after he’s worked with us some.”

“He’ll ask why you’ve accepted strangers over him, no questions asked.”

“Because they’re trained soldiers and he’s not. It would be irresponsible to take him into action without first teaching him how to fight.”

“That sounds fair.” She was visibly relieved that we weren’t both marching off today.

I ended the discussion with a hug, but I couldn’t linger. It wouldn’t look good if I ordered the men to be ready in an hour and I showed up late. Lead by example, Silk always said—and though I didn’t agree with everything she’d shouted at me, that tenet stuck. Momma Oaks accompanied me to the gate, and as she’d promised, Edmund arrived soon after with a light metal rod. It wasn’t so long it would be unwieldy or so heavy it would be a problem to carry. In efficient motions, she stitched the pennant to the pole while I counted heads. Fade was here, Thornton and Tegan too … Zach Bigwater, Harry Carter, all the scouts, along with Morrow, Tully, and Spence. I’d memorized all the men’s names because they weren’t numbers to me. I ran down the roster mentally.

“Everyone’s present,” I said. “Company D, move out.”

It was a miserable march, though our official flag cheered the men up considerably. They took turns carrying it and eventually took to wagering over who got the privilege. I had nothing to do with that; they awarded it to one another for whimsical reasons: a good song, stealthy movements, a cheerful tale. Though I expected some of the new men to complain, as they weren’t used to life in the field, none of them whined. That was a good start.

The ground was marshy from melting snow and frozen by turns, so I watched my step. Stalker and his scouts ran vanguard, finding us a good, safe route to Winterville. Since I didn’t know what we’d face once we arrived, it seemed best not to expend our energies more than necessary. There would definitely be fighting in town, and I hated the thought of killing humans. The handful of times I’d done so, I only enjoyed it once. Gary Miles, the Salvation soldier who thought girls were good for only one purpose, was no loss to the world.

Despite the weather, we made good time.

On the outskirts of Winterville, I waited while Stalker and his scouts surveyed the opposition. The rest of us were tense, listening for any sign that the afflicted were venturing past the Winterville boundaries. Now and again, I heard inhuman shrieks, wordless growls, awful but distinctive from any sound I ever heard the Freaks utter.

“This is horrible,” Tegan whispered.

I nodded. The scouting party didn’t return a moment too soon.

Though the former Wolf was tough, even he was shaken when they returned. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Stalker said, still panting. “Every house is barricaded from the inside, windows and doors. And the town itself…”

“Go on,” I prompted.

“There are people everywhere, attacking anything that moves … eating each other.”

Horror ran through me. Regardless whether the scientist, Wilson, had good intentions, he’d experimented without considering the consequences, and it now seemed that his work would end as badly as those that started all the trouble in the first place. If these people turn into Freaks … With some effort, I curtailed my urge to speculate and focused on the facts.

“How many?” I asked Stalker.

“Seventy-five to a hundred. That’s just an estimate.”

“Are they working together?”

Stalker shook his head. “No. If anything, they’re competing to get into the houses. It’s … grim, maybe the worst thing I’ve ever seen. You’ll understand when we move in.”

Considering what he and I had been through, that was quite a statement. But I didn’t doubt him. Armed with this disturbing information, I went back to the others and gave the orders. “We’re splitting into four teams of eleven. I’ll assign squad leaders to each, and you’ll follow their instructions as if I had given them. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused.

I went on, “We have a devil of a mess to tidy up. While it’s true we didn’t make it, the people trapped in those houses are counting on us. I have no idea whether what Wilson did to these poor madmen is contagious, so protect yourselves from their teeth.”

Tegan bounced, which I took to mean she had something to add. “Blood can carry diseases, too, so be careful. Try not to get it in your eyes or mouths, and if you have any open wounds, make sure they’re covered before the battle begins.”

“Anything else, Doc?” She flushed with pleasure when I called her that, but she shook her head. That was the extent of her warnings, apparently.

“Excellent. Some of you may hesitate when it sinks in—that we’re fighting people. But remember, there’s no help for them. That’s the reason Wilson kept them penned up; he was trying to find a cure, but they’re broken beyond fixing, and it’s a kindness to put them down.” The words sounded hard and cold to my own ears, but the men were nodding. “Now then, team leaders: Stalker, Fade, me, Morrow.”

The storyteller looked surprised to be called out, but he was smart, and he’d lead his men with the same care and wisdom he’d offered Tegan during their training sessions. To avoid any question of favoritism and for the sake of speed, men counted off by fours and then divided up accordingly. I ended up with Thornton and Spence, but not Tully, along with Tegan, three scouts, Zach Bigwater, and three fresh recruits. It was a good mix of skills with enough veterans that we should be able to compensate if Zach panicked under pressure.

“Everyone knows who’s in their squads?” I asked.

They agreed in unison that they did.

“Good. Then, Stalker, you take the eastern section. I’ll go west. Fade, you have the north, and, Morrow, you’ve got the south, where the problem started. But from what Stalker said, there’s trouble all over Winterville now.”

“I’m clear on the objective,” Stalker said.

Morrow inclined his head. “Me too.”

But Fade stepped close, gesturing to his men to wait a second. They were checking their weapons, talking in low voices about the fight to come.

He leaned in with a furrowed brow. “Are you positive you want me in charge?”

I understood that he thought he wasn’t the Hunter he had been, and he had doubts about his leadership. But Fade needed to stop treading in my shadow; he was every bit as fierce and strong as he had been, maybe more so. Blasted few people could survive an experience like his. Even less would be able to wade into battle afterward. He was one of the strongest, bravest people I’d ever known, and it was past time for him to acknowledge that.

One step at a time.

When I met his gaze, I didn’t do so as the girl who loved him or the Huntress partnered with him down below. My tone was firm and cool. “Are you questioning my judgment?”

I read the shock in his gaze, quickly veiled by a thick sweep of lashes. Then he stepped back. “No, sir. I have my assignment.”

I pitched my voice to carry. “When you clear your quadrant, head for the lab at the center of town. You can’t miss it.” I described the building, just in case. “Now let’s get this done.”

Slaughterhouse

If anything, Stalker understated the chaos and carnage.

Winterville reeked of infection and death. The wind carried the stench from all corners, which told me nothing about where we’d find the afflicted ones. I stepped over a puddle of blood and scanned the area before I led my group west. Bloody palm prints stood out in sharp relief on the pale metal of the buildings. Zach Bigwater was an unknown quantity, but fortunately, I had veterans to compensate for his inexperience, and the rest of my team should be competent. My nerves drew taut as I listened. With a glance at Tegan, I confirmed that she heard it too.

Forty paces on, we ran into the source of the noise. Ten feral humans surrounded a house, scrabbling at the barricaded windows, and their utter wrongness pierced me like a blade. As we approached, they turned—an uncontrollable impulse more than a decision—and ran at us with lips curled away from their teeth. I caught a glimpse of rabid eyes with starbursts of blood in the corners, normal human hands with nails untended until they were curled and yellow.

Though I’d cautioned my people not to hesitate, I hated it when I drew my knives. These people didn’t deserve this; Wilson had done it to them—with the best of intentions—but still, their suffering could be laid at his door. When the first lunged at me, I saw that he was Edmund’s age. He might’ve been a farmer before, a normal man who loved his family and hated parsnips. Please, give me the strength to do what’s needed.

With a rush of sorrow, I took him down, and that kill set the tone for everyone else. I glanced around for Tegan, but she was executing the staff maneuvers Morrow had taught her with complete precision. We all accounted for one except for Zach; he froze while the rest of us defended. Afterward, he hunched and lost his breakfast.

“How can you?” he asked in a low whisper. “They were people.”

Tears filled Tegan’s eyes. “I know. But it was a mercy. They couldn’t ever be who they were again. If they were in their right minds, it wouldn’t be necessary.”

I checked all the bodies to make sure they were dead, taking care with their blood as Tegan had suggested. Thornton watched, then he etched what I’d learned was the sign of the cross. I’d seen Morgan do that as well; and he had explained it had spiritual significance when I asked. My family had religion, but they didn’t favor that gesture.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“Lying there, they look so normal, almost like us,” the older man answered.

“I know.”

It was eerie. This was what it must’ve been like long ago, before everyone changed; I glimpsed the Freak genesis in these poor lunatics, and it chilled me to the bone. With care, I closed all the eyes, so they weren’t staring at the sky with eternal hunger. At last, satisfied they were all dead, I straightened, though part of me couldn’t help a primitive fear that these corpses would rise and shamble after us. Apparently the others felt the same because they backed off, and didn’t turn until we moved more than fifty paces away.

I fell into step with Zach, keeping my tone low so the others couldn’t hear, though they might well guess what I was saying. “The next fight might be more challenging, and we can’t carry your weight. Don’t let me down.”

He nodded, looking ashamed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

I felt for him, this boy who had lost his whole family, and now had to learn to fight when that hadn’t been his role from the beginning, as it had mine. But in this world, people had to adapt, or they died. Cowardice would haunt him all his life, if he didn’t find the courage to raise a weapon and hold his ground. It wasn’t that I thought people who couldn’t fight were worthless; that judgment came from deep inside the kid. He needed to earn his own self-respect.

The next group ran at us from around a corner. There were no telltale sounds, but in a blink, there were twenty on top of us. I should’ve smelled them, but the miasma hung over the whole town; the stink was horrendous, and they were near starvation. Some had gnawed their own flesh—or maybe they’d done it to each other—but the bites were infected and livid, sour milk flesh imprinted with savage red teeth marks.

Our drills held up, though. The men fell into a circle as we had practiced, forcing the enemy to push through if they wanted to surround us. I expected Zach to falter again, but this time he brought his knives up and held the line. We were outnumbered, but these were creatures of madness and hunger, the way the old Freaks had been. They knew nothing of tactics or strategy, only of the need burning like fire in their blood. The fight became an intricate dance of death. When Tegan swung her staff to sweep the legs and knocked one down, Thornton finished it with an efficient blow from his hatchet.

I worked with Zach, keeping them off him while he discovered his confidence. He might not be a natural warrior but he was determined, offering a block and feint to draw the snapping teeth. That opened the throat, and I cut it, then followed with a kick to avoid the spraying blood. Some spattered on my pants, but it couldn’t be helped. Spence worked as he usually did with knife, gun, and boot. I didn’t count how many I killed; I just fought until they all lay dead.

“Injuries?” I asked. “Any bites?”

There was a heavy, fraught silence while everyone scrutinized their fellows.

“Me.” Danbury was one of the new men, recently recruited. He cradled his forearm, and as I stepped closer, I saw the purple bruise with a scarlet heart where teeth had broken the skin. The wound would heal, but I glimpsed raw fear in his eyes.

“You can’t become a Freak through bites,” I said, though it was a hollow reassurance. “Maybe this isn’t catching the same way.”

Tegan offered, “I told you to avoid the blood as a precaution. These people went mad after exposure to that potion Dr. Wilson created, not from biting each other.”

“You should shoot me,” Danbury said. “Just in case.”

I shook my head. “We’ll finish clearing the town, then I need to have words with Dr. Wilson. I’ll ask him if there’s any risk.”

Danbury curled his hand into a fist. “If I go wrong, promise me you won’t let me turn into that.”

I gazed down at the bodies. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.” The statement sounded tender when it was, in fact, a pledge to end his life.

“Let me clean and wrap it.” Tegan took the soldier’s arm. She put on thin leather gloves, then poured antiseptic into the bite to flush it. Afterward, she smeared some healing salve and bound it with a length of cloth. The soldiers watched her as if mesmerized; I didn’t know if it was the grace of her movements or the silent threat of what might lie beneath the bandage.

Spence holstered his gun. “This is no challenge at all. I’m surprised the townsfolk couldn’t handle them.”

Thornton added, “It helps that they’re stupid and weak.”

“The people here aren’t trained to fight,” Zach put in.

He was right; it made a difference. Most folks, when confronted by a nightmare, tended to run and hide. It was a rare soul that took up whatever weapon came to hand with no prior experience. But somebody else might be able to explain why most people fled and one in a hundred decided to do battle.

After that, we met only stragglers, one so weak he was on his knees when we encountered him. Spence murmured, “Poor sod,” and put a bullet in his head. The madman tipped over backward, and I swear at the moment of death, he was relieved to have it done—or maybe that was just what I wanted to see in his tormented features because otherwise this day would create a weight too heavy to carry.

“I’d like to speak with this Dr. Wilson, too.” Thornton smacked the haft of his hand ax against his palm, which I took to mean he wanted to lop off the scientist’s head.

I held up a hand, signaling quiet. After few seconds, I was certain. There were more nearby. How many, I couldn’t be sure. I wished Stalker had been able to provide a more accurate count. The men moved behind me, their fang-and-bone necklaces rattling. Down the street I found the source of the noise. This house had proven unable to withstand the onslaught, and the front door stood open like a gaping wound. A blood trail led inside.

I swallowed back my dread, whispering, “There won’t be room for all of us. I need four with me, six outside on guard.”

“I’m with you,” Thornton said.

Spence didn’t answer, but he stepped closer. Then Zach moved in … and Danbury. Those two wouldn’t have been my first choices, but it was better for squad morale if I didn’t play favorites. The house was dark with the windows shuttered, shadows heavy as the souls of the dead. I inhaled, tasting the air; it was sick and stale, tainted with decay. Then I heard movement deeper within, and all the hair on my nape stood up.

A few seconds later, the creature that shuffled into sight, dragging a severed arm, barely registered as human. Her skin was too tight, bloated from the feast we’d interrupted. Her eyes were bright but sunken in her swollen face and so smeared with blood that they were the only bright points in a ruddy mess. She lumbered toward us, and we scattered, giving Spence a clear shot. There was no point in letting her get close enough to bite. He leveled the gun and took the safe shot right in her chest, but it wasn’t enough. Despite that wound, she kept coming.

“Again,” Thornton snapped.

Spence fired another round, nailing her right between the eyes. She dropped like a stone.

I pushed out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “I doubt she left anyone alive, but we should make sure. Thornton, with me. The rest of you, watch the door.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was a moderate-size home. From what I could tell, it had originally been all one space, almost like a storage facility, but it had been repurposed as a house and someone had built rickety partitions. A lot about Winterville reminded me of down below. Unlike many settlements, this one looked like it didn’t belong; it was more than half made up of old salvage, used by people who didn’t fully understand what to do with it, and those foreign materials struck a strange note in the new world.

The whole house was awash in blood and feces, as if the madwoman who had broken inside had been a wild animal. She ate and excreted, and from what Thornton and I saw, that was all. In the sleeping area, I stumbled into the worst scene I’d ever encountered.

Is Appleton worse than this?

Thornton caught my shoulders as I rammed into him in an instinctive recoil. Chunks of meat and bone were everywhere, and the former residents were so chewed up that I couldn’t tell what parts belonged to which person. It was a slaughterhouse of a room, a scene that would haunt me forever. The sheds where they slaughtered the meat in Soldier’s Pond had more kindness. Then the woman, who was half devoured from the waist down, opened her eyes and whispered, “Kill me.”

“Let me,” he said.

I couldn’t have gone into that room—my feet were frozen—so he strode across the blood-smeared floor, and with a clean stroke of his hatchet, ended her misery. I moved back until I couldn’t see the massacre anymore, squeezed my eyes shut, but the images didn’t go away. Hard tremors shook through me, and I was ashamed of my weakness, until I felt Thornton’s big hand on my arm.

“Girl, I’d be worried if you could handle that. Only reason I could is because I’ve worked in the animal sheds, butchering beasts.”

I didn’t ask what mental tactic he’d employed, but I suspected he must’ve pretended she was one of those animals and he had a duty to make it quick. Thornton kept a hold of me as we stepped out and cleared the rest of the building. My heart was in my throat, fearing there would be brats, but I found none. I hurried back to the front door, and I guessed my expression gave away how bad it was because nobody asked me a single question.

“Let’s go,” I said. “We have more ground to cover before dark. I can’t speak for the rest of you, but I’m not making camp until I’m sure we’ve killed all of them.”

“You’re dead right about that,” Spence said with a hard look.

That day, I killed six more feral humans; after what I’d seen in the house, I was only just functional. My squad accounted for more, but the situation was tense. I had Danbury fretting about his bite while the rest eyed him like they wanted to cut his throat as a precaution. Finally, I called it, after we searched every structure in our part of town. It had been exhausting, and the sun was already gone, darkness driving out the streaks of vibrant color.

“This whole town is cursed,” Zach said, his skin washed red by the sunset. “There are old-world relics all over the place, no wonder they came to grief. God has forsaken them.”

“None of that crazy talk,” Spence snapped.

Before sharp words could burgeon into a full-fledged argument, I beckoned. “Let’s go find the others. I hope they didn’t run into more trouble than they could handle.”

That sparked a frank discussion of the other squads’ capabilities, which lasted until we reached Dr. Wilson’s lab building. Stalker’s crew was already waiting; they were bloody but relatively fit. Right away, Tegan went into action with her medicine bag and about half the soldiers looked like they would walk on hot coals for her. There’s just something about a girl who can heal you … or crack your head open with a staff.

As soon as he saw me, Stalker strode over to me to make his report. “We killed thirty-odd feral humans. Found some dead citizens. I’m not sure as yet how many survived the attack.”

I shrugged. “Hard to say. They’re unlikely to come out until they’re sure it’s safe.”

“True.”

When I did a head count, I belatedly realized he was down a man. “What happened?”

“There was … resistance inside one of the houses. By the time I got to him, it was too late.” From Stalker’s expression, he was taking the loss hard, so I just nodded.

Soon Fade’s crew joined us. He bore several new wounds, but after I scanned him head to toe, I was relieved to find no bites. There was no way I could grant Fade a merciful end, should it come down to it. I might as well ask Spence to shoot me. Morrow arrived last, also one man down. That put our current number at forty-two. I greeted Fade with a smile, though I wanted to kiss him. His dark eyes lingered on my mouth, and with effort, I recalled myself to business. We couldn’t carry on like Breeders in the field.

“Time for Dr. Wilson to account for this mess,” I muttered.

Lull

The door was bolted or barred from the inside, so I banged on the lab door with both fists until Wilson called out, “Who’s there?”

“Company D!” the men shouted, before I could reply.

That was enough to reassure him, apparently, because I heard the sound of latches being unfastened, then the door swung open. I felt safer once we all stepped inside, but not happier. If possible, the man looked older since the last time we’d been here, by years instead of months, and he was thinner too. They used windmills to generate power—that much I knew—but I wasn’t sure how well town commerce had stood up to the crisis. If the people who went mad normally worked at some trade, farmed, or crafted trade goods, then their supplies must be running low. Salvage could only take people so far.

“Lock up, please,” Wilson said.

The soldier closest to the door complied, then we followed Wilson to the large room where he’d hosted us first. My men didn’t relax; none of them looked at ease in this place. It was strange to them, just as it had been to me, and I hoped the scientist wouldn’t give his windmill lecture again. That might be the last straw.

“Somebody string this bastard up.” The demand came from one of the scouts, but I couldn’t see who’d spoken.

I whirled, fixing a hard stare on them. “We’re here to help, not impose punishment. His own people will decide if he’s guilty of anything.”

Wilson slammed a hand on the counter, rattling his glass odds and ends. “Who do you think begged me to find a solution? I told them it would take years and that the mutants might have changed by then. They insisted on a live trial over all of my objections, and I had pressure from Emilia in Soldier’s Pond too.”

That shut everyone up for a few seconds.

For the first time, I noticed how quiet the lab was, no ambient snarls or growls, and there was no accompanying Freak stench, either.

“What happened to your pet?” I asked.

Wilson lifted one shoulder, the posture of abject weariness. “Old age. Once it sets in, they go downhill fast. I did what I could to make him comfortable.”

The rest of us were horrified; he had been nursing a monster while his people ran amok and ate one another? Wilson really was crazy.

But Tegan showed signs of fascination. “Did you learn anything about the creature’s physiology while you had it in captivity? I’ve never heard of anyone studying a mutant.”

“We study all kinds of things,” Wilson said. “Or we did. The last year has been hard on the scientific community.”

“What the devil are you talking about?” Tully demanded.

Wilson sighed. “Winterville has always been split along two lines, the scientists who gathered to study the Metanoia virus and eventually developed the vaccine to treat it, and the lay people who supported them.”

“You mean those who did all the real work,” Thornton muttered.

From the rumble of agreement, other men felt the same. I sensed the mood getting ugly, after everything we’d seen today. To prevent a hanging, I needed to divert their attention, but Tegan did it for me. She was plainly curious, moving about the room with apparent absorption.

“So this was a research facility more than a town?” she asked.

The scientist indicated the lab, stocked with all manner of gadgets. “That’s the only reason I have this equipment. Most of it has long since stopped functioning, of course, as the people who knew how to repair it are long dead. A few things, my father taught me how to maintain, and it’s the reason I was able to extract enough genetic material to create that serum.” His face fell. “As it turned out, that was an appalling idea.”

“Seems to me you didn’t pay nearly enough,” Spence said. “You made this mess, then you nearly got some poor fellow killed calling us to clean it up.”

“Did Marcus get there safely?” Wilson asked then.

That would’ve been my first question, and his belated concern didn’t endear him to the rest of the men. I was familiar with how humans thought; they wanted somebody to blame for the evil they’d witnessed here. A time or two, I’d been accused of things I didn’t do, according to that mob justice. So as much as I’d wanted to hang him myself, I couldn’t let my men make Wilson a scapegoat.

“He did,” I said. “He was resting in fair health when we left.”

“What’s the Metanoia virus?” Tegan asked.

“It’s what started the end of everything.”

“Ah.” Doubtless she remembered my summary of our conversation with Dr. Wilson and what he’d told us about what led to the collapse.

Red-eyed and fearful, Danbury cleared his throat, reminding me that we had a problem. I said, “I need to know how dangerous it is if we were bitten by one of the afflicted.”

“No more than any human bite,” Wilson answered. “The human mouth is filthy. But the mental deterioration you noticed sprang from adverse bioreaction to the mutant pheromones I released, not from viral or bacterial infection.” The scientist shook his head. “Regardless of the external pressures, I’m not reckless enough to experiment with viruses. They’re the most dangerous and insidious form of contagion.”

What he’d done with the potion seemed plenty irresponsible to me, but I didn’t know what a virus was, so maybe it was worse. From that moment, Tegan looked at Dr. Wilson like he wore a silver crown, and she pelted him with questions regarding things I might’ve wondered about too if my men weren’t tired and hungry and Winterville still such a mess.

“In the morning,” I said, “we’ll advise the townsfolk that it’s safe and help with cleanup. For now, find a place to bed down and eat whatever you have left in your pack. I’ll make sure we get a hot meal tomorrow.”

Danbury was frowning. He peeled back the bandage to stare at the bite on his arm. The afflicted must’ve died before he or she could really dig in. “What did all of that mean?”

“Just watch for infection. You won’t go crazy.”

That seemed to relieve him. All around the lab and in the hall, men laid out their bedrolls. I had no idea how late it was, but between the day’s horrors and the hard travel behind us, I was too tired to be hungry. On impulse, I left the lab and followed the turns of the corridor until I found the cages where Dr. Wilson had kept Timothy. They all stood empty, and they had been cleaned, so the room smelled sharply of vinegar, no hint of Freak at all.

Without turning, I recognized Fade’s footfalls as he came up behind me. “It’s so odd to think of them dying of old age.”

“Like people.”

That was part of what bothered me about all of this. The more the Freaks changed, the more they became like us. How many more generations before they spoke and thought as well as we could? At that point, their faster development meant they would outpace us in the breeding department. Another question ate at me—maybe the monsters were supposed to survive. Not us. And how could I fight nature on such a scale?

Weary, I leaned my head against the door frame. I should go back and lead by example, but I needed a quiet moment. Just one. Fade put his arms around me, looping them so that he could rest his chin on my shoulder. His warmth felt good, and the men were safe for the moment. That was a heavy burden, thinking about so many other people all the time. I didn’t ever want to be an elder if it meant this much pressure. Maybe it was why so many lost their minds and made decisions for all the wrong reasons.

“You were right,” he said quietly.

“About what?”

“I needed to lead today, though I was mad at you for making me do it.”

Oh. I guessed our current position meant he’d gotten over it. “You brought back your whole team, so I knew it went well. But I had no doubts.”

“I did,” he admitted. “I was afraid I’d lock up or panic.”

“You’ve fought since you were taken.”

“It’s harder when your choices affect other people,” he pointed out.

So true.

“But you coped. No matter what life offers, you just fight harder. I love that about you.”

I could tell he was smiling when he nuzzled the curve of his lips into my neck. “Let’s see if we can find a place to clean up.”

Since I didn’t care for the idea of sleeping in travel dust and the blood of the day’s battles, I followed him. The lab complex was bigger than it looked from the outside, as corridors crisscrossed the length and breadth of it. There were also stairs down, but I’d had enough of darkness, so I steered us away from there. At length we found a cleaning room with a spigot that provided a gush of water.

Fade and I took turns rinsing off, and I was conscious of my heart beating in my throat as I scrambled into clean clothes. I’d like to see what he looked like with nothing on, but this wasn’t the time or place. I cursed those girlish impulses as Fade strode out with damp hair flopping into his eyes. In the winter months, he tended to let it get shaggy, providing more warmth, and then as the sun shone brighter, he often hacked it off. It didn’t matter to me what he did with it; I enjoyed gazing at him regardless. By his expression, the feeling was mutual.

Fade appraised me with warm, dark eyes, and it was as powerful as a kiss. “I could look at you forever and never get tired of your face.”

His words flooded me with pleasure so sharp it pierced like pain. That was better than saying I was beautiful, though he’d done so before. This moment felt like a forever-thing, because he saw me when he looked in my eyes, and I’d always be that person, no matter how the years changed me. With that tender weight between us, we returned to the main hall. When the men saw we’d found hygiene facilities, they demanded directions. In twos and threes, they went off to tidy up as well before breaking bread—and I decided I hadn’t done such a bad job of leading by example. A girl could do worse than inspiring soldiers to bathe. Fade and I ate dry meat and stale bread, typical of road food. As I washed it down with tepid water, I imagined a roast goose like Momma Oakes used to make in Salvation with all the trimmings: creamy sweet potatoes swimming in butter and honey, brown bread, green beans, and berries in cream.

“You look like you’re in pain,” Stalker said.

His face was drawn, eyes shadowed in the flickering light. The death of his teammate weighed on him, I suspected. We’d lost a lot of good men in the summer patrols as well, but it was different when you had the charge of them. Instead of a bad turn in battle, it felt like a personal failure.

“A little.” I told them both what I’d been envisioning, and Fade groaned.

“You delight in cruelty.” There was a sweetness in his teasing that I hadn’t seen in so long, like he was before, when it was just him and me against the world.

Stalker turned to Fade with a polite expression. It sat oddly on his scarred features, like a hat tailored to another head. “I’d like to speak with Deuce in private, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s not up to me,” Fade answered.

Stalker nodded. “It’s not personal, if you’re worried about that. I have no intention of causing any trouble between the two of you. I just need a word.”

Part of me felt aggravated that he’d asked Fade, like he was in charge of who got to talk to me. But the rest appreciated the gesture, thereby acknowledging that Stalker understood how things stood between Fade and me. I ignored those conflicting reactions and accompanied him all the way to the door. That seemed like an excessive precaution, if he feared somebody eavesdropping. The men were all seeing to their own needs.

He took a deep breath. “There are a few things I need to say, if you’ll hear me out.”

“Go ahead.”

He folded his arms, but not in a defensive way, more like he needed a hug, and there was nobody to give him one. I didn’t move. Touch was a precious gift, and I didn’t offer it freely. The distance between us came for good reason, as he didn’t seem to be able to separate the quiet warmth of a friend as opposed to the way I reacted to Fade, who had exclusive kissing rights.

“In the gang, if I made up my mind to do something, it happened. And I started believing there was no obstacle I couldn’t overcome, nobody I couldn’t turn to my will.”

“If nobody ever gainsaid you, I understand how that could happen.” I was less sure what that had to do with me, but I trusted that he’d get to it.

“So when I met you … and I wanted you, I figured it was only a matter of time until I changed your mind. I didn’t factor your thoughts or desires into it. At first, you were more a prize to me than a person.” He took a deep breath. “I apologize for that. And when I realized you were never going to return my feelings, I didn’t take it well. I’m not a good loser.”

“Few people enjoy it,” I said dryly.

“My point being, I’d like to accept your offer of friendship, if it’s still open. I’ll talk to Fade, make it plain I don’t intend to get in his way. I get why he doesn’t like me. He has reason.”

“I’d like that.” All of it. I’d never wanted any competition between them.

“The next thing is, I need you to lock up after I leave.”

I tensed. That sounded like good-bye. “Why?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back. I just need to rove for a while. I can’t sleep tonight.”

I nodded, guessing the loss of a man under his command was bothering him. He probably thought if he had been faster or smarter, he could’ve saved the scout. But Longshot’s death had taught me that sometimes you couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted to, because other people made their own choices, however little you liked them. Sometimes they were brave and heroic; other times, it was just stupidity, and those losses were the hardest to bear.

“Be careful,” I said.

“I will.” Stalker unfastened the bolts and chains and strode into the dark.

Recovery

I slept poorly that night.

The conversation with Stalker plagued me. I expected to hear a tap on the door at any moment during the night, so I lay awake listening for it, but it never came. I snatched my rest in fitful bursts, but I roused with everyone else, took my turn washing up, and then I went out to see what Winterville looked like. The men followed me, something that struck me as odd, though it was what I’d wanted. In the daylight, the damage was apparent, but it seemed as if it could be readily repaired. Dr. Wilson joined us, shading his eyes as if he rarely saw sunlight. Since most of his work took place in the lab, that might be true.

“There’s a bell four blocks that way,” he said, “at the church. It’s the building with the point on top. If you ring it, the townsfolk will know it’s safe.”

I was ready to put this grim and broken town behind us, but I’d told the men we’d help with the cleanup, and despite my desire to move on, I’d keep that promise. One day spent in repair and recovery wouldn’t cost us the war.

“This way,” I said, following Wilson’s directions.

As we moved off, he went back inside. Tegan fell into step with me. “Where’s Stalker?”

“He’s taking Hammond’s death hard.”

From the ground, I could see the bell, but it required me to go inside the church. I left the bulk of my men outside, taking only Fade with me. The damage seemed especially wrong in here; the wood was scarred with countless scratches, more blood and excrement from the feral humans who had squatted here. It smelled rank, like death and rot; I covered my mouth as we moved through the shadowy interior to the stairs on the right. They were steep and skeletal, leading up to a narrow tower where the bell hung. Fade pulled the rope and the peal rang out, echoing to all corners of town.

“It’s worse,” he said. “Knowing that people caused all this destruction.”

The cause and effect haunted me. Long ago, people feared one another, so they invented terrible things, capable of creating monsters. Then the monsters killed so many of the people that we were in danger of dying out. So once again, we devised something awful, trying to drive off the beasts. It was like an unbreakable cycle, and it exhausted me, made me wonder if I was mad for thinking I could make a difference. I preferred to imagine I’d survived the long walk to serve some purpose, but the world might not operate like that. Maybe there were no reasons why, just an endless chain of bad and worse, leavened by occasional brightness.

“Yes. It is.”

Fade laced our fingers together as we left the church. Sometimes it felt as if he could sense when my heart hit its lowest ebb, then the smallest sign from him, and it sailed away again, soaring on the wind like a bird. The lightness couldn’t last, of course, with the dire nature of the task ahead of us, but it was enough to keep me from seeing only the dark.

The citizens of Winterville emerged from their homes slowly, careful as squirrels. An elderly woman asked, “Who do we have to thank for our salvation?”

“Company D!” the men replied as one.

A ragged cheer rose up. In their wan and tired faces, I glimpsed true adulation. I’d seen it a few times down below in the faces of brats who dearly wanted my approval. Several men and women clasped my hands, kissed them, even, and I glanced at Fade in confusion. He lifted a shoulder, fending off the worshipful attention, but not in a way that made me fear he was about to panic and attack them. He only looked puzzled.

“Enough,” I said. “There’s a lot of work to do. Who’s in charge here?”

A couple pushed to the front of the crowd; they looked to be of an age with the Oakses, lined but not incapable. “I’m the mayor, Agnes Meriwether, and this is my husband, Lem.”

“Do you intend to punish Dr. Wilson?” I asked.

She looked as if I’d suggested murdering a child. “Why? He only did as we implored. For years, we had no need to defend ourselves. The Muties were different then. They didn’t band together like they do now … and we could handle the odd scavenger. It was no different from running off a rabid wolf. But in the last year or so, things have gotten much worse. We didn’t have any trained men or many weapons. So we thought science might offer a solution.”

“From what I’ve seen,” Tegan said soberly, “you can’t have both fast and safe. It just isn’t possible.”

“We know that now. I should’ve listened when Dr. Wilson warned me that it wouldn’t end well. But it worked at first. The Mutie bands just veered away, but then people started going mad. Fourteen people died while we were rounding them up—”

“There’s a prison camp in the south,” Morrow said to me, low. “Barbaric. It would’ve been kinder just to kill them.”

“That’s what I said,” Lem put in.

Agnes seemed genuinely tormented. “I couldn’t bear for so many people to die, if there was any way to prevent it. I asked Dr. Wilson to devise a treatment.”

I nodded. “But he couldn’t. And the temporary prison didn’t hold.”

“I don’t want this responsibility,” she said softly. “I’ve made too many mistakes.”

A woman called from the crowd, “If you think we’re cleaning up your mess, you’re out of your mind, Mrs. Meriwether. You put this town to rights.”

I cut off the argument with an impatient gesture. Once we left, I didn’t care who held office. My objective was to restore Winterville to some semblance of order. So I divided us into teams as I had the day before, only this time we were hauling bodies. It seemed disrespectful to burn them as we had done the Freak corpses, so I set five men to digging a mass grave. That wasn’t a whole lot better, but it would take too long to dig so many separate ones. Down below, we’d have fed them to the Freaks, but I’d come to understand that was wrong, and Topside, it would attract scavengers.

I labored alongside everyone else, dragging bloody burdens out of buildings to where they could receive a decent burial. By noon, my back and arms were aching; it was the grimmest work I’d ever done. Only Tegan tackled other tasks; she checked the townsfolk over and helped those she could. I saw her frustration when she encountered illness or injuries she didn’t know how to treat. Guilt blazed like a signal fire in her eyes; she thought if Doc Tuttle had lived instead, he’d be of more use.

Once we finished moving the bodies, they fetched us shovels, and everyone pitched in to plant the dead. When I first heard of this custom, it gave me nightmares because it seemed so similar to putting seeds in the ground; and my sleeping mind conjured all kinds of horrific plants that might sprout from a corpse. It was silent work, raking dark soil over the faces of the dead. I heard only the rasp of the shovels and rakes and the breath of those who labored beside me. Black and still, the freshly dug mound rose up from the grass surrounding it. There should be some marker to commemorate the tragedy, but maybe the memory of the people who had loved and lost would do the job instead. Then the men of Winterville came with wood and stone, nails and hammers, and they built a monument. I rested in the shade nearby, weary in body and soul. Once the noise quieted, Mrs. Meriwether fetched the minister, who had a holy book similar, but not identical, to the one Caroline Bigwater read from when she disapproved of someone.

I gathered along with everyone else. These words were soft, and they slid like silk from the holy man’s mouth. “‘For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted. Weep no more, my children. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.’”

After the service ended, the people of Winterville swallowed their tears, pretending their loved ones had gone to a better place. I didn’t know the truth, so maybe they were right. Company D stood silent and respectful through the completion of their rites, then the men gathered around me. It was late in the day by then, and while I didn’t especially want to spend another night here, I didn’t think it was wise to leave the protective perimeter with dark coming on. The pheromones—though they drove part of the town crazy—still seemed to be functioning as a deterrent to the Freaks. So we could rest safely here, I imagined. Before I could announce the decision, however, Mrs. Meriwether stepped toward me.

I met her halfway, brow arched in inquiry. “Something else, ma’am?”

“We’d like to thank you. At the moment, we don’t have much, but it’s customary to share a meal in honor of the deceased. We cook their favorite foods, talk about good times, and remember them kindly.” She lifted a plump shoulder. “It might be a silly tradition, but it comforts people, and supposedly it allows the spirit to move on, like a rite of passage.”

After so much death, it seemed wise to pacify the spirits. I wasn’t convinced such things existed, but if they did, it would be bad for feral souls to stick around. They’d soon drive the survivors mad.

So I nodded. “We’d be honored to share a meal with you tonight.”

The houses were too small to host so many people; there was no mess hall like they had in Soldier’s Pond, so they made do in the town square. People carried out what they had left in their cupboards, and men and women shared the cooking; a good idea, I thought. Soon, there was meat roasting in multiple fires, vegetables bubbling, and sweets being stirred in pots. Other townsfolk went about the business of removing all signs of the bloodbath from the day before. Stern-faced, weary men worked with rags and buckets. For a time, those labors made people forget the high cost of survival.

What will they do with the makeshift prison they built to house the afflicted? And why didn’t they just confine them in their houses? It was possible they tried that and that measure failed. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, breathing in the savory smells. Belatedly, I realized I was starving. Dry meat and bread had been the norm on the way, and I’d pushed the men hard. I’d feared we would arrive too late, but now I could relax a little. The crisis was past.

Someone sat down beside me, then I recognized Tegan’s voice. “Do you think things will ever be the same here?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“Where are we headed in the morning?”

I had been thinking about that a lot. “We’ll try our luck nearby, see if our success in the fall was enough to change people’s minds.”

“Good idea.”

As the cooks finished up the evening meal, a trading party arrived from Lorraine—and that seemed like a sign. They were grizzled men with permanently sun-browned skin and silver beards. Their easy manners reminded me of Longshot, and a hole opened up inside me. I’d lost people before, but never like that. Nobody ever thought so much of me that he’d die so I could live, and I was finding it hard to carry that gift, as there was no way of repaying him.

“What happened here?” the lead driver asked, for it was obvious the town was recovering from an attack.

“Private dispute,” Mrs. Meriwether told him.

“Not Muties?” the man demanded. “There’s a huge mess of them over in Appleton. The whole town’s overrun.”

The woman blanched but she shook her head. “So far, we’ve seen nothing of them.”

“I wouldn’t fret. I hear there’s an army on the march. I had word on the trail from John Kelley. These soldiers killed about a thousand mutants out past Soldier’s Pond.”

The trader’s comment put a smile on my face. As promised, the trapper was spreading word about—and exaggerating—our great deeds. I didn’t know how much his stories would help, but they were entertaining, anyway.

Agnes Meriwether opened her eyes wide. “Is that so? Well, there will be a party tonight, so you’ve arrived in time for some good eating.”

“Thanks kindly. We’re all hungry enough to eat a raw bear.”

A nascent strategy solidified in my mind as I listened to their polite talk; the wagons were heavy with goods that Winterville desperately needed. With luck, the citizens could find things of value to offer in return, despite the circumstances. The townsfolk hurried off to gather scattered items to offer in exchange for fresh supplies. Longshot had told me that men traveled the trade runs during spring and fall, so we could expect to see more caravans, more targets for the Freaks too.

I sought Fade out to ask his opinion. He was sprawled beneath a flowering tree, its white blossoms sweet in the cool air. Even dirty and tired, he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

“You look like there’s something on your mind.”

I nodded, dropping down beside him. “I was thinking that we should guard the trade routes. The fastest way to endear ourselves to the people in the remaining towns is to keep their economies thriving.”

“You reckon that’ll make them feel indebted, more likely to send men to bolster our numbers?”

“I hope so. It’s the only idea I have left.” Beyond securing more ground for Soldier’s Pond, I couldn’t imagine how our squad could make a difference against the horde.

“It’s solid,” he agreed.

“We have to add to Company D … or the minute the Freaks abandon Appleton, they’ll roll right over the next town.”

By proximity, Lorraine had the most to worry about, as the settlement was only four days away. A big group might take longer to arrive, but not long enough for the citizens to evacuate, and besides, where would they go? Urgency clutched at me with hot, sharp fingers, but there was nothing I could do at the moment. That didn’t sit well at all.

Fade braced and reached for me then. It seemed to me that it got easier each time he did it, more natural. I hoped the day would come when he could do it without needing that mental pause, where touching me was the easiest and best thing in the world. “Try not to worry. For the moment, we’re safe and we’re together. Let that be enough.”

That was more than enough; it was everything.

Defense

Stalker returned late that night, well after they set out the food. He caught my eye and nodded, letting me know he’d dealt with his grief. I was glad to have him back. After that silent exchange, he fixed a plate and joined the rest of his scouts. The town square was a cheerful place, lit by the electric lights that Wilson had explained in such tedious detail, plus the merry crackle of multiple fires.

By that time, everyone else had eaten. There were jugs of strong-smelling drink that made the townsfolk laugh and fall down a lot; I quietly instructed my men to stay away from it. Around that time, a Lorraine trader produced a fiddle, and I wondered if the Winterville citizens found the music improper for a night that was supposed to be about showing respect for the dead, but nobody protested. The notes sang out like silver light, until people’s feet were tapping. Soon, dancing began, a whirl of feet and legs. The impromptu performance seemed to enliven Stalker further and he coaxed a local girl into dancing with him. Later, he stole a kiss from Tully, which made Spence try to plant a boot in his arse. Laughing, Stalker went back to his Winterville conquest. It was good to see him in high spirits, after the knock he’d taken earlier.

As the liquor flowed, stories tumbled out one after another. Many of them had the magical quality of the one Morrow had told about the boy who lived in the cupboard. I had a hard time listening to all of them, but the storyteller was in his element. Now and then I caught him scribbling frantically to be sure he didn’t miss any of the details.

Tegan sat with Dr. Wilson, pestering him with questions, but rather than being annoyed, he seemed pleased by her interest. The scientist had endless patience for her curiosity, even if I didn’t understand half the things he was telling her. She glowed by firelight, looking at Wilson as if he were the greatest present she ever got, even without the fancy wrapping. I laughed quietly, and Fade tightened his arm around my shoulders. Moments like these were few and far between.

“Do you ever wonder what happened down below after we left?” he asked, surprising me.

“All the time. I wish there was some way for us to find out.” But we had come so far, not just in actual distance. I might even be frightened to go back down into darkness, fearing it would choose to keep me this time and not let me go back into the light.

“Me too. I know you had friends you left behind.”

“Not very good ones, as it turns out. They believed the worst of me awfully fast.” That was an old wound, one I’d hardly acknowledged.

“I’m sure they had their reasons,” Fade said.

I gave a bitter laugh. “They trusted the elders, like I did before you got inside my head.”

“Are you sorry about that?”

“How can you even ask? My life is so much better because you’re in it—and not just because we went Topside.”

He gave me a crooked smile, and his gaze lingered on my lips. “It’s nice to hear.”

I winced, taking that as a criticism. Deep down I knew I wasn’t the best at talking about my feelings, and Fade probably needed to hear how important he was to me, as much as I could express it. “I’ll try to be a better partner.”

“You’re spot on with the killing,” he told me, smiling.

That was a quiet nod at our time together down below when I was completely oblivious to the fact that he wanted to be more than my hunting mate. My cheeks heated. “I’ll work on the talking.”

The fact that my private thoughts mattered to him meant more than he knew. As I struggled to find the words to express them, the lights went out overhead. The fiddler paused his tune as the night darkened, leaving only the fires crackling. People quieted also, as if they remembered all too well how dangerous nights filled with monsters could be.

“I’m sure it’s just a malfunction in the wires,” Dr. Wilson said. “Or possibly the windmill that powers this part of town has broken down.”

A dozen slurred voices added their opinions, but I recognized the prickle crawling over my bare arms. I signaled my men, and Company D was on its feet, ready for battle in less than thirty seconds. I spun until I located Stalker, but he was already coming toward me. He recognized this as his area of expertise.

“Will you see what’s going on?” I asked, low. “But don’t engage. We need intel.”

This time, he took none of his scouts, heading off at a silent run. He moved with all the grace of a creature born in the wild, and within seconds, he vanished into the shadows. The party mood was gone, and the Winterville folk started packing up the food, hurrying toward the houses where they had hidden for days already. Most still had barricades for the windows and doors; I hoped they wouldn’t need them tonight.

Mrs. Meriwether darted toward Dr. Wilson. In the confusion, she thought nobody was paying attention, but I craned my ears to catch every word. “I thought we were safe. You made enough of that spray to treat the whole town.”

His tired reply was unmistakable. “It doesn’t last forever, Agnes, and Timothy is gone. I can’t make more without him since the extract came from his reproductive glands.”

“So we’re defenseless?” Her horror was palpable. “I killed all those people for nothing.”

I bit out a curse. The chances were good that we had Freaks in the windmills, destroying them. They might not understand what purpose they served, but they hated all human technology. They’d wreck these machines for the same reason they’d dug up our crops—because they thought it would weaken us in some fashion. And in most cases, they were right.

I didn’t wonder long. Stalker came at a run, winded, which meant he’d pushed himself. He gasped out, “Freaks. At least a hundred, coming in from the east.” As he caught his breath, he added, “I suspect they trailed the Lorraine traders. Not sure why the pheromones aren’t discouraging them.”

“It washes away,” I said. “It’s not forever. And Dr. Wilson can’t make more.”

“They won’t fight.” Fade was watching the townsfolk move in full retreat, preparing to cower inside their homes.

But barred windows and doors wouldn’t deter a hundred intelligent Freaks. They’d use fire or some other strategy to take this town, and it wouldn’t even require the rest of the horde, unless we did something about it.

“This will be a tough fight,” I said softly.

Stalker nodded. “At night, against superior numbers? It’ll cost us.”

“I know. But the alternative is to leave Winterville to its fate.” Under no circumstances could I give those orders. If the rest of Company D abandoned the town, I couldn’t go. It might be the practical decision—one a Huntress would make—but I couldn’t save these people from the feral humans, only to let them die.

“Men!” I called.

They surrounded me at full attention, row by row, and I recalled that was the style in Soldier’s Pond. I didn’t usually require it, but the occasion merited formality, I supposed.

I had no fancy words, but I gave them what I knew. “It’ll be a rough night, our first big battle of the season ahead. Who wants to kill some Muties?”

“Company D,” they called back.

Not a single voice remained silent; they all shouted their intentions to the skies. If they died tonight, they’d go out as Hunters, one and all.

I squared my shoulders. “Then we need a plan.”

Fade turned in a slow circle, assessing the houses and the open terrain of the town square. “I think we can win. But we need to draw them here.”

“Count on my scouts for that,” Stalker said.

I thought I understood Fade’s plan. “Spence and Tully, I need you on those rooftops. I want constant fire from you until you run out of ammunition.”

“You’re them,” one of the Lorraine traders said in wonder. “Company D.”

I hadn’t noticed their approach, but it made sense they’d be here since they didn’t have houses to hide in, and the wagons offered limited cover. The lead driver wore a rifle on his back as Longshot had, and I wondered if he was any good with it. He seemed to read my thought—or maybe my look—because he drew it and held it like a man who knew which way to point it.

“We are,” I acknowledged. “But I don’t have time for introductions at the moment.”

I expected some disparaging remarks about my gender or my age, but to my surprise, the rifleman said, “Put us on a rooftop. We’ll fight with you.”

A boy crept out of the shadows then, hardly more than a brat. He was dirty and thin, eyes too big for his face. He reminded me so much of the white-eyed brat from down below that my stomach cramped. A weapon too big for him to lift came behind him, leaving trails in the dirt.

“I can shoot,” he said.

I saw the words forming on a trader’s lips, You can’t even lift that thing, son, so I cut him off. “How?”

“I can brace it. My dad taught me … before he died.” There was a wealth of sorrow and anger in those words.

“Where’s your mum?” Fade asked.

The brat lifted his chin. “Gone. You poured dirt on them both earlier today.”

Guilt flickered through me; I hadn’t even noticed him among the other mourners. Above the boy’s head, Fade caught my eyes, and I nodded. We’d take this chance to do the right thing.

“Go with the traders. I want you posted over there.” I indicated the tower where Fade had rung the bell. “Spence and Tully on the other side.” That structure wasn’t quite as tall, but it had a nice perch on the roof. “Barricade the door if you can, so they can’t get at you. The rest, stay with me. Remember our drills.” I planted the banner Momma had made in the ground, then told my men grimly, “Guard the flag with your lives. Don’t let them inside our line.”

“You heard the woman,” the lead driver snapped. “Move.”

Woman. That word felt as precious as my naming day; and maybe it was the first time Topside that anyone had looked at me and seen more than a silly girl. That man couldn’t see my scars and he didn’t know my story. He only knew what my actions told him, and apparently they said I was grown. But I had no time to savor the sensation.

Stalker’s scouts came at a run with what seemed like a thousand Freaks charging behind them. I shuddered, remembering my mad flight with Fade through the horde. It had to be worse for him, but he was steady as a rock at my side. All around us, Company D readied their weapons. I drew my knives five seconds before the Freaks hit us like a hammer—and we stood our ground, shoulder to shoulder, as lead slammed into the monsters from above.

Bodies jerked and fell all around me. I stabbed and slashed, my usual style forestalled by the need to protect Fade on my left and Sands, who had staggered in on my right. Tegan fought between Stalker and Morrow, her staff knocking them down for other soldiers to finish. She didn’t like to kill, but the girl had gotten deadly about defending herself. I held formation and turned my attention back to the next Freak charging toward me.

It snapped yellow fangs in visible threat. “Our land. Not yours.”

“You’ll have to take it,” I growled, just before I plunged my dagger into its chest.

Fade knocked one away from me and cut its throat. He too was all efficiency, keeping them off me as well as the soldier on his other side. We fought as a unit, not as separate Hunters, and it felt good when the enemy fell in droves around us. The night air chilled my skin but sweat warmed it up again. I sliced like the threshing blade we’d used in the fields. The Freaks were ferocious, but they couldn’t fathom the way we wouldn’t yield, not even a single step. They couldn’t surround us, couldn’t use their usual tactics. These creatures fought like pack animals, three or four on one victim, who usually went down to the overwhelming blood loss, not due to any particular skill. They were less organized than the ones who offered us the truce near Soldier’s Pond … and that made me think these were associated with the horde, possibly a vanguard. I risked a kick, though it pulled me forward a few steps, then someone from the church tower shot the thing, and Fade pulled me back.

“Careful,” he scolded.

“Sorry.”

A cry of pain from one of my men drew my eye. In the dark, I couldn’t tell who it was, but the man dropped, and we tightened the formation. Freaks tested our defenses from all sides, but we didn’t let them pass. They received bolts in the back, bullets in the side, and our knives everywhere else. Morrow was a lean shadow, dancing death with his slender blade. Now and then I caught Tegan watching him, and that made me smile, even as I blocked another lunge. The town square was a seething, snarling mess with bodies everywhere.

“Back up,” I called.

The fight blurred into a mass of claws and fangs, cries of pain. I fought until my arms ached, until one more swing of the dagger might make my arms fall off. The rifles popped until they ran out of ammunition on the rooftops, and then we had Spence and Tully, and the traders on the ground with us. Around that time, the Freaks realized they were losing, so they ran. We gave chase, but a handful of them escaped in the darkness, dodging around the buildings. I hoped they would carry word that this town was well defended, but I feared they were going after greater numbers for the next onslaught. I panted, hunched over with my hands on my knees. Then I took stock. Eight men down. Mouthing their names, I closed their eyes myself.

“We did it,” Tegan said.

Considering what we’d achieved, Silk would call this a win. I disagreed. Though we’d driven the beasts off, it didn’t feel like a complete victory. The traders had taken some damage too. One hurt, another dead, and the leader looked stone tired.

“That was quite a fight. John Kelley might’ve exaggerated when he called you an army, but he didn’t make up anything about your skill.” He turned along with everyone else as the brat came down from the tower, dragging his father’s gun. “You did good too, son. Saw three of them Muties go down under your fire.”

“What’s your name?” I asked the boy.

“Gavin,” he said.

From what he’d said, he had nobody left. If he did, they likely wouldn’t allow him to be here, fighting for a town that wouldn’t defend itself. “How would you like to join Company D?”

Bright as the moon overhead, the kid’s smile almost made up for all the men I’d lost.

Loss

By dawn, we had dug eight graves. My fingers were raw and blistered from the last twenty-four hours; there had been too much death and our numbers were decimated. In total, ten men from Company D died defending Winterville, and the townsfolk had hidden in their homes. The only real man among them was a brat named Gavin, who labored alongside me with as much grit as I’d ever seen.

Heart heavy, I signaled for the men to bring the bodies. We put them in the ground ourselves while I worried about the Freaks returning. We buried our dead together, and anger warred with grief inside me. I didn’t call the minister to offer more soft words. Instead I asked the survivors to speak on behalf of the fallen. That lasted until mid-morning with quiet reminiscences and comments on the everyday things that had made these men happy. Afterward, I asked those who’d known them best whether they left family behind. And six of them had.

That cut even deeper.

“It’s not your fault,” Fade said softly.

I couldn’t accept his comfort until I cleared my conscience. The look of those fresh graves lingered fresh in my mind as I strode through the silent town. When I arrived at the Meriwether house, I hammered on the door with both fists. To her credit, the mayor looked as if she hadn’t slept all night when she answered.

There was no greeting for an occasion like this, and I didn’t bother being polite. “The way I see it, you have two choices. You can form a militia or you can seek refuge in a town willing to take you in. I can’t guarantee we’ll get here next time. This is twice, and it’s time Winterville started saving itself.” I got up in her face. “No more awful potions, no more miracle solutions cooked up in Dr. Wilson’s lab. You don’t ask him for help again. Understand?”

“Not even in normal ways?” she asked, horrified.

I wasn’t trying to tell them how to run their town. “Anything to do with defense.” She offered a sorrowful nod, but all her sad looks wouldn’t bring my men back. So I went on, “We’re moving out, so whatever you intend to do, you’d best get to it. Hiding in your houses won’t do the job forever.”

“I understand. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. We won’t forget. I don’t know yet if we’ll have to abandon the town, but we’ll have a meeting to decide today.”

“As you like.”

Whirling, I ran toward the rest of the company. Fade snagged my shoulder and spun me to face him. “Not this way.”

“What?” I snapped.

“You can’t let them see you like this, Deuce. Later, you can fall apart and I’ll pick up the pieces, but right now, you have to be strong.”

Taking a deep breath, I realized he was right. So I held still until I could fix my face in a more suitable expression. The men would rightly read my pain as weakness; I had no business leading troops into battle if I couldn’t handle what came next. It was another hard lesson, but by the time we got back to the others, I had mastered it.

“Let’s head out,” I called.

Company D formed up, following me to where the Lorraine traders had bunked down beneath their wagons. “Did you get any business done?”

The lead driver nodded. “We took care of it last night, before the attack.”

“Then the wagons are loaded and ready to go?”

He nodded. “Did you need something?”

“No, but if I guess right, you’ll have a dangerous trip back to Lorraine. My men and I will make sure you get there safely.”

“Why?” one of the traders asked.

“If the trade routes shut down due to Mutie attacks, all towns will suffer. I’ve seen what happens when a settlement becomes too isolated.”

Salvation had been a good place, full of warmhearted people, but they didn’t trust outsiders much, and they hadn’t encouraged traders like these to come into town. From what my family had told me and I’d observed, Longshot handled all of that outside the town gates, allegedly preventing bad morals from getting in. But in the end, that seclusion didn’t save them.

“Then we’d appreciate the escort. We can spare some provisions once we arrive, and I’ll help you find a place in town to rest up for a night or two.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“I don’t know if you caught my name last night amid all the revelry. I’m Vince Howe.”

“Deuce Oaks.” That was the first time I’d offered two names, and Fade shot me a surprised look, but he smiled. I needed to tell him that Momma Oaks had given her blessing for him to use their name too.

“Pleasure, ma’am. I guess you know, but you run a right remarkable group. I’m sorry for your losses, but I don’t know when I saw more impressive battle.” I acknowledged that with an inclination of my head, and he continued, “We’ll be ready to go in less than an hour.”

I took that opportunity to use the sanitary facilities one last time, so I jogged over to the lab and banged until the scientist appeared. Dr. Wilson was happy to let me in, and for a minute, I thought he might follow me all the way to the wash closet. He stopped in the hall, fortunately, and said, “Come see me before you depart, all right?”

With a distracted gesture, I agreed and then washed up. It felt wrong to start a new journey with grave dirt still smeared on my skin, embedded beneath my nails. When I came out, damp and clean, I felt renewed. For a few moments, I considered ducking out because I was in no mood to chat with the scientist. But in the end, I kept my promise and headed to the lab to speak with the old man.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked.

He had two cups of tea steaming on the table, along with some buttered toast, so I joined him. On the road, I missed bread, and while this wasn’t fresh, the melted butter made up for the rest. The drink was pale but strong with a medicinal scent. It tasted better than it smelled, however, with a gentle tang of mint. I drank mine because it was wet and hot, pleasant in a dry throat, and then I devoured the food.

The scientist watched me in silence, but once I finished, he said, “Your friend, Tegan, is quite extraordinary.”

“Tell her, not me.”

“I’m appealing to you as her commander. A mind like hers shouldn’t be wasted on the life of a common soldier. Let her stay with me. I could use an assistant … and I’ve been looking for someone like her my whole life.”

I laughed. “You don’t know Tegan if you think I have any say over whether she stays or goes. But I’ll fetch her and you can put the invitation to her yourself.”

Leaving the dregs in my mug, I left the lab and went looking for Tegan. She was sitting alone in a patch of spring sunlight. The men gave her a wide berth, probably because of the tear streaks down her dusty cheeks. Dr. Wilson was right; she wasn’t cut out for this life, but she was lucky in that there was no reason she couldn’t cry when she felt sad.

“The good doctor would like a word,” I said, offering my hand.

She seemed glad of the distraction, and we walked back to the lab together. Once inside, the scientist stated his case with more eloquence than he’d offered me, outlining all the opportunities for study and the wondrous things he could teach her. He concluded with “It’s long been my dream to pass on my knowledge, but until now, I’d encountered no suitable candidates. But you, my dear, you’re perfect.”

Tegan considered, her lips parted in astonishment. “It’s a kind offer, Dr. Wilson, but I’ll see this through. Company D relies on me for healing, and the men will suffer without my care.”

“I see you were right about not being her captain,” Dr. Wilson said to me.

She frowned. “Deuce is my friend … she didn’t order me to follow her. In fact she tried to talk me out of it. Should I survive, then I’ll gladly come back to study with you.”

“I’ll endeavor to wait until that day,” Wilson said dryly.

A hot flush colored Tegan’s cheeks, and I smothered a smile. “I’m sorry. That sounded presumptuous, didn’t it?”

“I did ask you to stay. It’s not wrong to assume I’d like you to come back some day.”

“Then I thank you for the opportunity, Dr. Wilson. I hope we meet again.”

That seemed like the cue for us to leave, so we said our farewells and met the men in the town square. The wagons were loaded, and I was ready to see the last of Winterville. Despite their cowardice the night before, the townsfolk saw us off, and a few asked if I’d let them enlist. I was tempted to refuse, as I had with Rex, due to their inexperience, but I could tell by their guilt-racked expressions that they wanted to make up for their inaction. And in truth, we needed the bodies.

I looked the three men up and down. “Any of you know how to shoot?”

They shook their heads. But one of them said, “Please. I’m a smith. I can keep your weapons in good repair. Surely that’s worth something.”

He was a burly sort with broad shoulders and scarred hands. So I beckoned them all on. Since we had wagons to protect, this journey would take much longer than it did when the men ran at a Hunter’s pace. More time on the road meant more chances for trouble, and we were all weary, but if we delivered the supplies safely to Lorraine, other volunteers might join our cause. John Kelley was spreading our story, and I suspected Vince Howe would add to it as well.

These things took time.

We were on the road for over a week, and Stalker’s scouts did most of the heavy lifting. Sometimes we fought preemptive battles against the Freaks, so they had no chance to lay an ambush for the wagons. As I’d predicted, it was slow going, and there was little time to spend with Fade, apart from the way I treated the rest of the men. From his occasional looks, he was missing the way it felt when we were together, but the job came first, as it ever had. This was familiar from our time in the summer patrols, but I minded more than I had then. For the first time, I could imagine a quiet life with Fade, a little cottage like Momma Oaks had shared with Edmund in Salvation. I was tired of smoky campfires and nights spent alone in a bedroll on the ground. I’d learn to grow things, and he could find work that didn’t require killing. On a starry night like this, those were dreams too distant for building.

On the eighth night, I woke to pure chaos. The mules were screaming, Freaks were all around us. My men recovered as fast as they could, and the traders aimed their rifles, shooting into the dark. Between the crack of gunfire and cries of pain, I had no idea where anyone was. Gavin, the brat from Winterville, had climbed on top of the crates and was lying on his stomach, firing with complete calm. I spotted Fade fighting some distance away, but I didn’t see Tegan or Stalker. There was no time to search further, because three Freaks were on me.

I whipped out my knives and whirled into the fight. As my vision sharpened, I spied Tegan on the other side of the wagon. Morrow fought madly toward her side, his blade a silver arc in the dark. By his worried expression, he didn’t like how they were surrounding her. I didn’t care for it either, but Stalker was closer. Another Freak charged her back; she was already blocking with everything she had.

Though she was good with her staff, she wasn’t infallible. In a few more seconds, she’d go down. Stalker stopped defending and took four slashes across his back. He sprinted. I registered the precise moment when he realized he could save Tegan or land the killing blow, but not both. Not in time. A second later, he threw himself between her and the Freak that would’ve torn out her spine. He took both talons in the chest before Morrow and I reached them.

The Freak who went after Tegan from behind had a vicious scar across its face, received in some prior battle with human soldiers. It looked like a knife wound—and when it saw us—it loped off, more evidence that they were growing more cunning. This one preferred to live to fight another day. The rest of the monsters spun on us, but Fade and Morrow were there, fighting like wild things to keep them away. They died in piles beneath their furious blades.

Kneeling beside Stalker, I sealed my palms against the wounds. Blood bubbled up from between my fingers. The dawn showed signs of brightening into a sunny day, and he shouldn’t be dying. Tegan sobbed, calling for her medicine bag, but by his crooked smile, he knew it was no use. Stalker pulled my fingers away and clutched them tight, until our skin was slick and red. His breath grew wet and harsh, his eyes winter pale in his stark face. I drew him up into my arms, as if I could force him to live if I held him tight enough.

“You said I could never make it right … but this helps, doesn’t it? The world’s getting the better deal, her for me.”

Unable to speak for the tears thickening my throat, I stared down, memorizing his features. Though I couldn’t care for him like he wanted, he’d been my friend since we made peace in the ruins. He’d fought brave and true by my side. His ideas, his genius, had helped me build Company D, and I didn’t know how to win without him.

Stalker squeezed my fingers, his voice harsh and labored. “Promise, promise you’ll finish this for me.”

“By everyone I love, I swear it,” I choked out.

“I’d … ask you to … kiss me good-bye,” he whispered, “but—”

Before he could finish the wheezing words, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his cheek. He smiled, and it felt as if he were already gone, his body lighter in my arms. My heart broke over and over with each of his wet, rasping breaths.

His lashes fluttered like butterfly wings. “I could’ve made you happy, dove.”

“You did,” I whispered.

Not in the way he’d wanted, of course. But I had loved sparring with him, loved his pragmatic outlook, and his loyalty when he granted his trust. But he didn’t hear. The spark that made him Stalker had gone, leaving a limp body in my arms. All around the campsite, Company D protected me from the straggling Freaks, but the battle felt far away. I was gone too, weeping in silence. It wasn’t the way a leader behaved, but I was only a girl, mourning a fallen friend. So the battle raged on, but I had no fight left in me. My daggers lay useless at my sides.

“Let him go,” Tegan said softly.

When she hugged me, I went into her arms, my eyes smeared with blood and tears. We wept together, and I felt Tegan shaking. She’d hated him so much, then she forgave him, and now this. Though I’d believed him when he said he regretted so many things—and that he’d changed—I never would’ve expected such a sacrifice from him. Until the moment when he decided her life was more precious than his own, I’d have said he was foremost a survivor.

Like me.

But in the end, Stalker chose to be better still.

And I had promises to keep.

Pledge

Company D rallied and carried the day, and there were no more casualties. Remembering Fade’s words about being a strong leader, I pulled myself together and dried my tears. Yet the men had no trouble meeting my gaze, so I guessed they didn’t judge me lacking because I’d grieved for a friend. It seemed unlikely anybody could sleep—too much blood and death, too much danger lurking just beyond the wagons.

“We’re hours from Lorraine,” Vince Howe said. “Let me load your fallen man, and we’ll see him buried when we’re safe.”

I acceded.

That was a miserable march with sorrow gnawing through my backbone. Tegan wore a dead, awful look, one I recognized from when Rex lost his wife. She didn’t mourn Stalker like that, but shock had a hold of her, as if something this awful couldn’t possibly be true. I moved without thinking about where I put my feet, and six hours later, despite wagon speed, Lorraine rose ahead of us. In the morning light, it looked different from the first time we visited. Lorraine was a pretty town, a combination of Salvation and Soldier’s Pond. The houses were made of wood, but the ramparts surrounding it were made of stone, like a picture I saw in a book once; Edmund had called it a castle. They had a standing militia, but they didn’t patrol much. It was a common theme in the territory—people didn’t go out looking for trouble if they had a choice. They’d let the Freaks push them back, until they feared the wilderness like drinking poison.

Better we stay safe, they said. Better that those trained to do so go out to do battle with the monsters.

If not for the men willing to brave the trade routes, these towns would be dead already. But for sheer appearance, Lorraine got high marks. It was more polished than Otterburn, less divided than Winterville. The buildings were old but well kept, of timber and stone. The roads leading up to town were made of dirt, but once the guard waved us past the gates, they had been swept, neat lines in the dust contributing to an orderly feel. People wore functional clothing here, both men and women. There wasn’t a lot of variation in the dyes, but working with Momma Oaks had given me some idea about fabrics, and they had skilled weavers.

Arranging a proper funeral took most of the day. Vince Howe paid the fees and found Stalker a spot in the town cemetery. The undertaker took his body from us, and the next time we saw him, he was encased in a wooden box. There were men hired specifically to bury it, and people came from town because Howe asked them to. But I had the hardest job, for it fell to me to speak the right words in saying good-bye.

My throat tightened. “Stalker wasn’t always a good person, but he was a fierce warrior, and he died well. Good hunting, my friend.”

The men echoed it with one final battle cry, and then the gravediggers shoveled dirt on his casket. Howe set his hand on my shoulder. “I owe you. I doubt we’d have made it back in one piece without your men. So let me show you to your lodgings.”

The last time we were here, they left us to fend for ourselves, but today, we received a heroes’ welcome. The townsfolk offered us the town hall for our barracks and ladies of all ages promised to deliver warm crocks of food before the sun set. Before that, however, the local pubs sent us jugs of watered wine. I didn’t want drunks on my squad, as they tended to be loud and uncoordinated, but if any occasion called for some indulgence, it was this one.

It had been a devil of a week.

Once we were settled in the great room, I gave the orders in a monotone. “Get comfortable, men. Try not to think about the ones we lost. They died as they chose. Not every man gets to say that.”

“True enough,” Thornton answered. “I hope I go out half as well.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Spence said.

They all raised their mugs, and I went over to Tegan, who still wore that odd, frozen look. “Anything I can do?”

She covered her face with her hands. “I shouldn’t have come. That invitation from Dr. Wilson was a sign, and I ignored it. If I’d stayed in Winterville, Stalker would still be alive.”

“You can’t know that,” I said firmly.

Fade joined us, folding down into a cross-legged position. “Deuce’s right.”

Tegan clenched a fist and banged it on her knee. “There was a time when this was all I thought about. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to understand how much I suffered at their hands. Sometimes I fantasized about his death. But … I never imagined it would be for me.”

I couldn’t decide what to say, but before I made it worse, she went on, “I’d appreciate it if you gave me a little time to make sense of things. I’ll be all right.”

Since that was obviously a dismissal, Fade stood and pulled me to my feet. I went over to Thornton and said softly, “I need some air. You’re in charge until I get back.”

The older man nodded. “I doubt these boys are going anywhere. They’re tired and hungry, waiting on the food we were promised.”

“I’m sure it’ll be here soon. Vince Howe seemed serious about looking out for us.”

“We did him a good turn and he knows it. If honor means anything here in Lorraine, he won’t go back on his word.”

I was counting on that. Hurt expanded in my chest, until I felt like I’d choke if I didn’t get away for a while, away from promises and expectations, away from death. Fade followed me out of the town hall, his steps echoing after mine. I ran through the twilight, attracting strange looks from the people going about their business, until I arrived at the graveyard where we’d left Stalker. The men were gone, and the hole was filled in. They had planted a rectangular stone, which they promised would bear his name soon enough. A man with a chisel would cut the rock away until he shaped it just right.

Dropping down beside his grave, I cried as I hadn’t even when I held my friend’s body in my arms. The sobs tore out of me, loud against the quiet night. Fade knelt and wrapped his arms around me, so I sealed my face against his shoulder, hoping to muffle some of the noise. He didn’t try to quiet me, offering only silence and warmth. When I calmed, I noticed his hands stroking down my back.

“Better?” he asked at length.

“Not really. But I can handle it now.”

“I didn’t like him,” he said quietly, “but I’m sorry you lost a friend.”

“He won’t be the last, I fear. And I couldn’t stand it if you—”

Fade silenced me with his mouth; this wasn’t a hungry, taking kiss, but one that gave back comfort and tenderness, soothing my inner ache. This wasn’t the place for such things, however, so I struggled to my feet and dusted off my knees. The ache might never go away, but I was strong enough to swallow it down and remember how a Huntress should respond. Lately, I was more girl than Huntress, and it was making my job more complicated. Down below, I would’ve reacted less emotionally, factoring our chances of success or failure without much regard for loss of human life.

Together, we left the graveyard and headed toward the town hall. At night, people stayed indoors, so the dirt lanes were deserted and the windows shone with golden light. Guards manned the stone walls with rifles and crossbows like the one Tully carried. If any human settlements stood a chance of survival, Gaspard and Lorraine did. Appleton was lost, and I didn’t think Winterville had much longer, unless they made some drastic changes.

When Fade and I returned, the men were eating. I had no appetite but Fade persuaded me to drink some soup. Morrow sat beside Tegan, whispering in her ear. She wasn’t smiling at his nonsense but from the light in her eyes, she was no longer feeling quite so heavyhearted. Once the food and drink were gone, we all rolled into our blankets and went to sleep.

In the morning, as promised, Vince Howe came to take me before the council. I hadn’t even managed a meeting last time before they laughed me out of town, and that failure burned as I accompanied him to the restaurant. They didn’t have those in Salvation or Soldier’s Pond, but apparently, it was a place where you could buy prepared food. Inside, there were tables covered in pretty cloths and chairs with cushions. I attracted a few looks because despite my efforts in Winterville, my appearance was ragged. My plaits were disheveled and my plain brown road gear showed signs of hard use.

But I lifted my chin and strode past the onlookers like I had a right to be there. Five people sat waiting, three men and two women, all in late middle age, I guessed, according to Topside life spans. The men stood when I approached and gestured me to a seat. I glanced over my shoulder at Vince Howe, who sat beside me. He spoke all their names, but I didn’t bother learning them. If any of them proved a worthy ally, then I would.

“This is the leader of Company D.”

Remembering my manners, I extended a hand to each of them and gave my best “I mean business” shake. Then Howe went on, “Last night, I mentioned how much her men helped us and what they sacrificed to see our goods safely here.”

“What would you like in recompense?” a fair-haired woman asked me.

She expected me to request money to trade in town, possibly provisions or the right to our current lodgings for as long as we liked. But I surprised them.

“Volunteers,” I said bluntly.

Two of the council members exchanged a look. “For what?”

You promised Stalker you’d see this through.

“The army. We lost good men defending Winterville and more on the way here. The only way we can defeat the horde is to build a force capable of meeting them on the field. Lorraine’s a strong town with good walls and sound defenses. You can spare some men for the fight.”

“I understand the urgency,” the councilman said. “We’ve had reports about Appleton, and I’ve been expecting to see Muties on the march for days now. But what if men don’t step up?”

“Then we draft them,” Howe snapped.

A young woman took requests for food; I let Vince Howe choose mine. Soon after, she delivered our plates, along with fresh bread. The speed and luxury of it amazed me.

I ate while they debated the morality of such a course. It was something like the lottery in Otterburn, only the men chosen would end up joining Company D instead of being sent out as sacrifices. To my mind, this was better, as they had a chance of coming home. The discussion raged all through breakfast, and I didn’t hurry them along because I was enjoying the food so much. Fluffy scrambled eggs and hot buttered muffins, warm tea and a dish of fruit; it reminded me of the feasts Momma Oaks used to make. If I succeeded out here, maybe one day she’d have her own kitchen again. Between my desire to give my family a new home and my promise to Stalker, there was no way I could quit this task. I’d see the Freaks defeated or die in the attempt.

By the time I ate my fill, the council had made up its collective mind. “We’ll call all able-bodied men—”

“No,” I cut in. “Not just men. Everyone over the age of thirteen, male and female. If they’re willing to learn to fight, we’ll teach them. They only need to be brave enough to come with us. Company D will handle the rest.”

That sparked another round of argument, but Vince Howe gave me an approving nod. I guessed he didn’t see a problem. While they bickered, I had seconds on eggs and muffins, and wondered if the townsfolk had fed my men this well. Eventually they decided I was right, and that the call to action might even go better if they permitted my request.

So an hour later, we gathered outside the town hall with men running through town ringing their bells and shouting, “The council requires all citizens to gather at once.”

It didn’t take as long as one might imagine, so I figured they weren’t used to this kind of commotion in Lorraine. I let Vince Howe speak for Company D since he was known, and his account of our deeds and sacrifices had the crowd rumbling in awe. When he tilted his head at me, that was my cue.

“You’ve heard what we’ve accomplished and what we intend to do. If you want to give your families more someday, more than just four walls, then join us.”

At first nobody moved. But then Fade stepped forward with the banner Momma Oaks had made. The rest of the men began their drills, showing what our joint training had taught them. A surprised murmur stirred the townsfolk, and then the impossible happened—what I had been working toward from the beginning. Men and women, boys and girls, all of those old enough and bold enough to meet our needs, rushed forward, eager to take their place in our ranks, more willing bodies here than I’d dared dream.

This is for you, Stalker, this moment … and every battle henceforth.

Somehow, I hid my startled exultation. “Then line up,” I said, “and give us your names. There’s a war on.”