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.