Outpost (28 page)

I caught him with both arms. In top form, he could have taken all six of those Freaks without breaking a sweat, but we had been roughing it for months, and he hadn’t slept any better than I had with Ellis and Miles lurking nearby. His breath came in great, ragged gulps, but I didn’t hear the wet, sucking sound that presaged a chest wound. He leaned his scarred cheek against my hair.

“I was coming to save you,” he said, his voice muffled.

That surprised a laugh out of me. “From
Miles
?”

Stalker managed a grin. “I should have known better.”

“How bad are you hurt?” Without waiting for the answer, I checked him, raising his shirt to look. He’d taken several slashes, and the one just below his ribs was deep enough to trouble me. “We need to clean that, or infection might set in and carry you off.”

“I think I’m insulted. I’ve had worse.”

“Don’t be a hero.”

His mouth twisted. “I think we both know that’s not me.”

“I have no complaints,” I said. “Let’s get somewhere I can patch you up.”

“There’s a lake about ten minutes from forest’s edge.”

“Can you make it?”

Stalker lifted one shoulder, though the careless motion clearly cost him. “I don’t see that I have a choice. We don’t have enough water to waste on cleaning.”

Since that was true, I didn’t debate the matter with him. I merely offered my shoulder when it became clear he had other wounds he hadn’t shown me. His right leg didn’t straighten fully; I had no idea why.

I didn’t ask what became of Ellis. When we pushed out of the forest for the second time, I found the grotesque remnants of their pitched battle. Blood hung heavy in the air, and I stepped over the man’s corpse, leading Stalker toward the lake. This would delay our pursuit of Fade even more, but I couldn’t rationalize letting one boy die over one who might not still even number among the living.

It was the hardest decision I ever made in my life.

Legion

So much water always amazed me.

Down below, we lived on a thin trickle and rationed it in case we ran out. Here lay an endless expanse of shining green, bounded by a field of gold on the far shore. The sun sloped down beyond the horizon, setting the sky on fire. I turned away, unable to bear so much brightness when I hid winter in my heart.

On the shore of this lake whose name I didn’t know, I stripped Stalker half naked and examined his wounds. Blood crusted the worst of them, jagged tears from Freak claws. No bites, fortunately, which tended to fester. Not surprisingly, their mouths were filthy. I tore my spare shirt into strips, dipped half of them into the lake, and washed him. It would be better if we built a fire, so I could boil the water, but time was running out. Every moment we delayed, Fade and Frank got farther away. Makeshift medicine had to do.

Through my dubious care, he stood quiet, his eyes half closed, as if he found this pleasurable, even when I covered the injuries with salve. I knew firsthand how bad it stung. I didn’t have much left; it had been made by a friend of Fade’s, and soon it would be gone. Then I’d have only my daggers left from the enclave. Using the remaining rags, I treated the injuries as best I could, knowing we had to keep the slashes clean.

“Show me your leg. Is it broken?”

He shook his head. “Just wrenched, I think. I went running like a fool, after Miles dragged you off. It’ll be fine.”

“You’d say that even if you had bone sticking through the skin.”

His grin gained layers of attitude. “Probably.”

Soon, I finished the rudimentary care our surroundings allowed, including a tight wrap around his knee. It felt odd to kneel before him, but he made no suggestive comments, or I might have hurt him. I made sure the bandage was secure and that he could bear some weight.

After rinsing my hands in the lake, I asked, “Can you go on?”

He tested by taking a step. Not quickly, but he could move. “It would help if you could find me a walking stick.”

I wasn’t eager to return to the forest, but I avoided the battlefield and found a likely deadwood branch on the ground at the tree line, long and sturdy enough for our purposes. Though I hated the feeling, I ran back to Stalker because he represented my only tie to safety. How crazy that it had come to this. I didn’t like being alone, and silence could drive me crazy after the constant murmur down below.

“Will this do?”

He tested it. “Perfect, thanks. Time to see if I can pick up the trail.”

If he couldn’t, then this had been for nothing. I couldn’t face that; I just couldn’t. The ball of anguish knotted tighter inside my chest, stealing my breath. No, I’d find Fade.

Oh
,
Fade.

Stalker ignored my tense silence. He retraced his steps, pain in every movement. I didn’t see how he could continue like this, but I said nothing as he scanned the forest’s edge. Finally he clenched a fist and slammed it against his palm.

“Nothing. There’s too much movement of other game in the grass. I could follow any one of six trails here, and I might find a herd of deer.”

“What else can we do?”

He thought for a moment. “Let’s walk the shore. If they were traveling hard, as we have been, I’m sure they were thirsty. Freaks drink, right?”

I had never seen one crouched at a river, but if they lived—and the small Freaks hinted at natural reproduction—then, yes, they needed water to survive. “And the ground will be damp enough there to show you more specific signs, like it did in the forest?”

“I hope so.” The alternative went unspoken.

We traveled halfway around the lake before he found their tracks. Even I could clearly make out the spot where one man-size burden and a smaller bundle had been placed on the ground, and then three sets of clawed feet moved closer to the water. I stood staring down at the dark earth. The prints were wider than a human foot’s, claws pricking the mud above the toes.

After we followed them a ways, Stalker said, “They’re heading around the lake out onto the plains.”

Away from the village?
Unexpected.

It changed nothing, however. No matter what, I’d continue until the trail went cold, or I found Fade. There could be no other outcome. He had taken countless beatings for me, proven his love when he thought I’d chosen someone else. I trudged behind Stalker and wondered how he could stand the pain. I suspected he had the same steel as me, and that his quiet inner voice whispered things like,
You won’t quit. You’re a Wolf,
just as I bolstered myself with reminders that I had been a Huntress.

The light trickled from the day, dimming to black, and then the stars winked into sight. Once, I had thought they were torches that belonged to winged people who lived in a city high above, but Mrs. James had taught me otherwise. Sometimes truth pared away the magic. Darkness would soon prevent us from moving farther, but then—I drew up short. We didn’t need the trail anymore.

I knew where they had taken him.

The Freak encampment surpassed anything I’d seen or imagined, a horde capable of conquering not only Salvation but
every
human settlement. It had to be a thousand strong; fires blazed into the night—doubtless stolen from our outpost—smoky signals announcing their presence without fear, for who would challenge them? Stalker grabbed my arm and pulled me down into the tall grass, though we were too far for them to smell or hear us.

Did that mean the village functioned as
their
outpost, keeping watch on us? I hadn’t been able to figure out what purpose it served, but this thought sent a shiver through me because their behavior had become eerily similar to ours. I wondered now if these Freaks had been assigned the task of taking Fade and Frank in a coming-of-age rite; if they brought back human prey, then they could become adults or something, like earning a name in the enclave. There was no way for me to know for sure, of course; it wasn’t like I could ask. But it made sense.

It was also possible that the village was unrelated to this horde. Just like there were different groups of humans, maybe there were other kinds of Freaks. For some reason, the monsters who stole my boy had avoided the forest settlement. Whatever the truth about the two factions, it didn’t impact my goal.

“Fade’s there,” I breathed.

I felt it in my bones.

Impossible odds.
With our skill, we’d had a chance against a small hunting party, but Miles’s treachery delayed us too long, and they’d rejoined the horde. Keen night vision allowed me to glimpse their movement—so many Freaks. Quite apart from rescuing Fade, we had to get back and carry word. Preparations must be made.

“It’s your call,” Stalker whispered.

The seconds felt like hours and weighted with terrible uncertainty. But I could make the tough calls. I was pure steel.

“You can’t go with me. Your leg won’t hold at a run, and if something goes wrong … if I don’t make it back, you have to carry word to Longshot.”

His hands clenched into fists, and an agonized breath escaped him. “Don’t ask me to leave you, dove. Ask me anything but that.”

I touched his face, his scars, knowing this moment mattered. It might be our last. Stalker let me, as he
always
had, even when he said it would look like weakness. Something gave in my chest. “I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to find Fade. As long as it’s safe, wait over there until just before dawn, and then head back. If it gets ugly before then, then go. Move fast and quiet. Above all else, warn Longshot what’s coming. It might be our only chance.”

I’d never seen him look so grim. Despair etched his features, pulling his red scars taut. “If you want me to do this, then you need to kiss me good-bye.”

“Fair deal,” I said.

He’d stolen a kiss once, but this was the first time I leaned in on my own. This felt different too, maybe because it was my choice. His mouth was soft and warm beneath mine, lingering; I sat back, startled, but he wasn’t smiling. His expression told me he thought I wouldn’t survive the plunge into the seething Freak multitude. I had to admit, the chances didn’t look good. If I planned a frontal assault, I might as well stab myself in the chest and then lie down as breakfast.

That wasn’t on the agenda tonight.

Quietly, I outlined my plan, and he nodded. “It’s your only chance.”

Now I had to gather the supplies and wait.

*   *   *

There was no moon, just the starlight, but darkness didn’t frighten me. The horde did. Ruthlessly I fought down the fear and left my pack with Stalker. He was hidden in the tall grass near the lake, far enough away that the Freaks shouldn’t detect him. If I couldn’t get back before he left, I wouldn’t need provisions anyway—and extra weight would make my passage louder as I crept inside enemy lines. To succeed, I had to move like a ghost, like fog.

Can’t believe I’m doing this.

I’d returned to the forest’s edge earlier to collect my gruesome accessories, and I shuddered at what I was about to do. But if Freaks hunted by scent—and they did—then I had to cover mine. I couldn’t let a stray smell rouse them from their awful, flesh-devouring dreams. Closing my eyes, I took the entrails I had harvested from the Freaks and rubbed them all over my body and then added fetid blood.

Stalker watched me without expression. “I still want you, you know.”

“Like this?” I laughed to pretend I thought he was joking. If it spared his pride, it was worth him judging me a bit dim. Then I sobered. “Good hunting.” It was the highest compliment I could pay, acknowledging him as an equal, and he seemed to realize it. His smile came, quick as a cloud sweeping past the moon.

Without another word, I moved through the tall grass, slowly, so as not to draw attention. There might be sentries posted, or possibly some of the monsters were nocturnal. Either way, I had to risk it. This number of clustered Freaks smelled bad enough to make me nauseous. As I drew closer, I heard little sounds, like snoring, but more liquid in the throat, a wet gurgle, but it didn’t make me think they were in pain, quite the opposite. It was contented, a rumble I’d never heard from the Freaks, and I’d heard all manner of their screams, keens, cries, and growls.

Please let them be resting.

They were. They slept in piles, like animals, and like them, they had natural weapons: fangs and claws for rending their prey. At the perimeter, I froze. My nerve failed me. And I almost turned. He couldn’t possibly be alive in here. Not in this. At best, I’d find his corpse and die for nothing.

Better a dead Huntress,
Silk said silently,
than a live coward.

Squaring my shoulders, I agreed. I pushed forward at a measured pace, my movements small and silent. I sneaked past a knot of sleeping Freaks, my skin clammy with terror. Any minute they would rouse and snarl the alarm. Lunge at me with unreasoning hatred burning in their eyes, tearing me limb from limb.

I’ll be overwhelmed.

And none of that mattered. I was committed; a plan in place to ensure Salvation didn’t suffer due to my loss. If I died here, it wouldn’t be for nothing. It would be for Fade.

I swallowed hard, breathing lightly through my mouth.
He didn’t want Stalker touching you, and look what you did.
I shook my head. Who I kissed was the least of anyone’s worries. Emotions would get me killed, so I wadded them up and forced them away. I’d deal with it after I saved my boy.

Find him, Huntress.

Then I heard a noise that gave me hope. From somewhere within the camp came the sound of human weeping. I didn’t think it was Fade, but who knew how he would react in these circumstances? I’d probably cry too. I felt grateful for the guidance as I maneuvered around the sleeping Freaks. I wondered if they felt the same terror when they crept into the outpost, fear of our rifles, fear of discovery.
Do Freaks fear death?
It seemed I should have asked myself that question before.

In time, and through pulse-pounding dread, I came all the way to the center of the massive horde. Crouched low, I stared with utter disbelief at the source of the weeping. Down below, dying brats sometimes sounded like this; the white-eyed brat Fade and I failed to save did as the guard hauled him away.