We had lost two men—Ross Massey, who I didn’t know at all—and Jeremiah Hobbs. Grief built into a silent scream in the back of my throat. He had been kind to me. Respectful. I knelt by his body, heedless of the blood, and touched his pale, red-spattered cheek. A claw had disemboweled him. I covered the damage as best I could and readied him to be returned to his family.
Like Daniel, I thought, remembering my foster mother’s grief.
Tegan limped over to me and bent to rest a comforting hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry. He was a friend of yours, I take it?”
Fighting tears, I nodded and she drew me up into a hug. I stood for a few seconds with my head on her shoulder, and then I strode over to Longshot. “I’d like to escort the dead back to town, if I may.”
A few others volunteered, and he granted permission, obviously distracted. “Take the growers as well. There’s nothing more they can do today.” To the rest, he called, “Drag the enemy corpses away from the outpost, and build a fire.”
The men needed no further instructions. They knew they were burning dead Freaks both for hygienic reasons and to send a giant, smoky message. It remained to be seen whether it would instill fear or outrage. I had no ability to predict Freak behavior anymore. That troubled me, as did the stolen fire and the secret village, about which Longshot had done nothing. Putting those fears aside, I marched away beside the wagon, loaded with supplies and bodies.
Tegan walked beside me, making quiet conversation, and it steadied me. At the gate, she hugged me again. “I appreciate what you’re doing out there, Deuce. So do the rest of the growers … and I’ll see if we can make the rest of the town understand how important … and dangerous your job really is.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “It has to be done.”
“I’ll still try,” she promised. It would probably make her feel better to do something besides clean Doc’s surgical tools.
I nodded in thanks and headed out with the others. By the time we returned to the outpost, most of the mess had been cleared away. But the fire still smoldered, and the stink was horrendous. The night, however, remained quiet. Maybe we had taught them a lesson after all.
* * *
We had been on patrol for nearly two months when Longshot summoned me to discuss our recon findings. “I’ve decided it’s best to leave them alone,” he said without preamble. “Right now, we’re maintainin’ the status quo. They’re not comin’ at us in overwhelmin’ numbers, and our assignment hasn’t changed.”
Longshot was a cautious leader, but not an incapable one. I didn’t disagree with his assessment, though Stalker would be furious at the wait-and-see tactics; he thought it would be best to put them all to the blade while they slept. That would clear the region for good, he said, making it safe for the human inhabitants.
“I’ll tell the boys,” I said.
“Do you think I’m right?” The question surprised me. No elder had ever asked my opinion with such sincerity, like my thoughts were valuable.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I suspect they’re waiting for something, but who knows? It might be years before they strike. Or they might have changed to the point that they just want to be left alone to hunt moose and deer.”
He said, more to himself than me, “I have an achy feeling in my bones.”
I shivered. He wasn’t the only one. And while it might be age catching up to Longshot, it didn’t explain my mood at all.
That night, after supper, I beckoned to Stalker and Fade. They brought their plates over with expectant looks.
“What did he say?” Stalker demanded.
“That an attack would be unwise.” He hadn’t explained, but I understood why. “We don’t have the manpower or resources to go on the offensive. We’re better off holding here and completing our mission. Salvation needs the food for winter.”
Stalker muttered a low curse. “I only volunteered because I thought I’d see some action. This is shameful.”
“What is?” Fade asked. He sat close to me, and I wondered if he was conscious of trying to send a message.
“To have knowledge of your enemy and do nothing about it.” The blond boy glanced at me. “You must agree. You’re a Huntress, right? How can you stand this?”
It hit me then. I wasn’t a Huntress. Not anymore. I had the scars, but not the office, for that way of life was gone. So I shook my head quietly. “I was once. Now I’m just me.”
Whatever that meant. I had instincts, of course, that had become part of me. I enjoyed the lull no better than Stalker, but sometimes one had to wait in order to succeed in an assignment—and I dreaded failure more than inaction. Still, it gave me no peace picturing the Freaks in their village, so close in relative terms, and so untouchable in our ability to do anything about them.
Stalker shoved to his feet, fire in his pale eyes. “I hate this. It’s worse than school.”
On that point, I could not agree. At least here, I served a useful purpose. He wheeled away, pacing toward the far edge of the camp. Stalker fixed his gaze on the dark and distant trees. I could feel his yearning to break free. With a murmured “excuse me” to Fade, I followed the other boy and put my hand on his arm. The muscles were rigid beneath my fingers.
“Promise me you’ll respect Longshot’s wishes, and you won’t go into the forest on your own,” I said.
He laughed, showing too many teeth; wildness burned in him. “What value could my pledge hold for you? I’m not from your fine underground tribe. I have no honor, right? I am not special enough to earn your favor.”
I had feared this moment would come. The fact that it had taken months instead of days spoke well of his self-control. But I hadn’t understood how he interpreted my behavior until it was too late.
“You’re not angry because Longshot won’t mount an attack on the village. This is because I chose Fade.”
“Is it?” he mocked.
I stared at him, waiting.
“Maybe. Help me understand, Deuce.”
That wouldn’t solve anything. The only answer I could give was one that wouldn’t make him feel any better. I had known Fade longer, trusted him more. He had chosen to follow me into exile. Those actions, no other boy could ever match.
But I owed him some explanation. “We have history.”
A history that didn’t involve Fade kidnapping and tracking me through the ruins, but I left that part unsaid. Though I nursed no grudge because I, too, was a realist, Stalker would never be my first choice. It wasn’t his fault where he had been born, or how he’d come up from brat-hood, but that didn’t mean I wanted him as more than a friend.
“I see.” His gaze flickered away from the forest. “Then I’ll have to try harder.”
He was persistent when he wanted something; I gave him that. But not like Gary Miles, at least. I didn’t see why Stalker would be so set on winning me, except the challenge of my resistance. Or maybe it was more rudimentary, cast on a primitive level. He recognized me as a strong, suitable mate, capable of protecting myself.
“I still want your promise you’ll keep your word. You’ve never lied to me.”
Reluctantly, he nodded. “I won’t go back unless we’re ordered otherwise.”
“That’s good enough for me. Thank you.”
I turned from him and went back to Fade. Stalker’s gaze followed me, hungry and intent. That night, I dreamed of a boy with wolf eyes, waiting to devour me.
Taken
That awful day, I’d gone about my normal morning routine, cleaned my teeth, and spot washed in my tent. The others all had to share, but since I was the only female, I got one to myself. From time to time, I heard complaints about it, but everyone was too tired for it to be virulent. The summer had been tough on all of us, and nobody truly thought I didn’t pull my weight.
When Fade failed to meet me for breakfast, I searched for him. I explored the outpost thoroughly and found no clue of where he might be. He’d taken no gear, not even his weapons—and then I knew something was terribly wrong. I slid into the tent he shared with Frank, wondering if the older boy had heard anything, but he was gone too. None of his things appeared to be missing, but as I knelt, I sniffed at their blankets. Blood … and the unmistakable stench of rancid meat.
The other guards hadn’t believed me about the stolen fire. Not really. Our watchmen must still be falling asleep, and last night, they’d imagined we were safe because of our decisive victory. Which is when the Freaks crept in and stole two of our men. We hadn’t received replacements for the ones we’d lost yet, either. Now there were only sixteen of us.
And Fade was gone.
Fade. My boy.
I bit down on my hand until my teeth drew blood to muffle the urge to cry. Physical pain helped me balance the emotional anguish. Stay calm. I had to think. Then I had the answer; Longshot would know what to do. I bolted from the tent and crossed the camp at a run. He was still eating his breakfast when I found him.
His gray caterpillar brows puffed up. “What’s the matter?”
“We have to mount a search party. Fade and Frank were taken in the night.”
“Whoa, girl, back it up. Taken?”
Impatient, I grabbed his hand and dragged him to their tent and invited him with an anxious gesture to examine the evidence for himself. He took his time, dragging the blankets out into the morning light to hold them up and turn them in his hands. Eventually he gave a heavy sigh.
“That’s blood, all right, and a fair amount. Head wounds bleed a lot.”
Knocking Fade out would have been the only way to remove him from camp without him fighting so hard he’d have woken everyone within a hundred yards. He must have been unconscious when they dragged him off. We’d find him, though. We’d get him back. I refused to consider any other option.
“Tell me who you can spare, and I’ll set out now.”
Longshot stared at me, head cocked in puzzlement. “Why? I understand you were close, but there’s no call to waste resources retrieving their bodies.”
The bald words drew a groan from me. I wrapped my arms around myself in defense against the horror. The truth hammered me down, inexorable as the sun that shone. Freaks didn’t take prisoners. If they were gone, they must be dead.
Then I thought of Momma Oaks’s son Daniel, braving the wilderness alone because he believed he could save that child. Shame heated my cheeks. If I didn’t try, then I was no better than the rest of Salvation. I wanted to be better. I’d find Fade somehow; maybe faith alone could keep him safe until I saw him again.
I shook my head. “With respect, sir, I can’t continue without making an effort to retrieve my lost comrades. I’ll go with or without your permission, and if that means I can no longer serve in the summer patrol, so be it. If disobedience means I will be banished from Salvation…” I lifted my shoulders in a careless shrug.
No matter. I refused to stay in a place where they declined to rescue their loved ones. And if he didn’t change his mind, then he wasn’t the man I admired.