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.”