Escort
From the first fiery bolt, the battle went according to plan.
We got a bonus when the field caught, creating an inferno of snarling panic. The Freaks fled from the blaze and ran straight into our blades. Between the dark night and the bright fire, they hardly saw us as they died. The firebombs exploded in the center of the camp, immolating a number of the monsters. On the ridge, riflemen picked them off as they scattered. In the chaos, we killed them with impunity, until they realized how few we were and then they charged. I couldn’t let them surround us. My men didn’t have the experience to win at such steep odds.
“Sound the retreat,” I shouted.
Morrow piped out the notes warning the squad to fall back to the agreed location on the forest’s edge. The men responded, aware our tactics didn’t allow for a stand-up fight; we meant to kill as many as possible before luring them to more advantageous terrain, where we’d fare better against superior numbers. Fade was nearby, so we fought together as we gave ground. I stabbed and slashed, careful not to turn my back on monsters that might impale me from behind. Thornton shot one over my shoulder and I turned. Fade ran with me, full out, until we put the war zone behind us. I counted as the soldiers stumbled in. In the end, we lost ten men. Well enough, I hadn’t expected to defeat them in one ambush.
“How many did you get?” I asked the men, after they reached our rendezvous point.
The tally was close to a hundred—and I smothered their urge to cheer. It was a solid achievement, one third of the enemy’s number. We fell back into the forest thereafter and these Freaks apparently weren’t bound by the deal we’d made with the others, which confirmed they were part of the horde. They hunted us through the trees, but in such terrain, they couldn’t fight as a mob, so we picked them off. Company D fought in constant motion, never letting them rest. On the sixth night, the Freaks fell back to set up camp in the grasslands beyond. There were only a hundred of them left by then, but I had no plans to offer them a fair fight.
Two weeks into the conflict, other problems plagued us. Between the Freaks in the area and our own men, it was difficult to find game. Fishing helped a little, but time spent on provender, as Thornton called it, left less time for evading their attacks and for planning our own. The situation had to be addressed before it got worse.
Before I could resolve that crisis, Morrow brought grim news. “There’s a trade caravan heading from Gaspard to Soldier’s Pond. My scouts think the Muties we’ve been harassing intend to hit it for supplies before circling back to Lorraine.”
“We can’t let that happen,” I said. “Let’s move.”
That began a hard march east with little food and less sleep. Company D was thin and exhausted when we met the traders on the road. I expected them to greet us with rifles, but word of our exploits had spread, and they actually recognized the banner Momma Oaks had made. Most days, Gavin carried it proudly, the pennant flying in the wind.
“Oi, Company D!” the lead driver called.
“You intend to hang us too?” I joked.
Laughing, the man shook his head. “The guards are still talking about that, you know. I wouldn’t expect a warm welcome in town anytime soon, but stories are different on the road. Vince Howe and John Kelley have only the best things to say.”
“We’ll get you to Soldier’s Pond,” I offered, “but you’ll have to help feed us.”
I hoped they could spare us something in Soldier’s Pond since a good number of our men came from there. If not, we could surely share the traders’ rations while we protected them.
The trader nodded without hesitation. “I can make the meal stretch to porridge if you can augment with fresh meat.” There was some grumbling from his men because they’d expected skillet cakes, not gruel, but he leveled a stern look on them. “Do you want to live? This area’s crawling with Muties.”
He was right; only the skill of our scouts had let us reach the caravan before the enemy, and to get to Soldier’s Pond, we had to circle the forest because of the wagons. There would be ample opportunity for them to hit us before then. A knot formed in my stomach because the last time we’d guarded supplies like this, Stalker died. I couldn’t handle losing anybody else. But I put my fears aside and informed the men that we had a new goal—and at the end, there would be some rest in Soldier’s Pond. That roused a weary cheer from warriors who had been subsisting on plants and berries. I didn’t know about them, but I was starving and so weary of wild-leek-and-mushroom soup. It had been days since I’d eaten more than a scrap of meat, choosing to give my share to the soldiers instead.
“You’re too thin,” Fade had said, when he caught me doing so. “You can’t keep up your strength if you don’t eat.”
“I am,” I’d muttered.
There just wasn’t much to be had. Between constant fighting and laying ambushes, then moving fast enough to stay out of reach, we didn’t have time to hunt properly or bring down big game, assuming the Freaks had left any. There should be moose and deer, but it had been a week since the scouts saw any tracks. There was only smaller game like rabbits and squirrels, less worth the trouble of catching because it took so many to feed the soldiers. Sometimes we skinned them and put the meat in the pot for flavor along with the leeks, potatoes, and mushrooms, but it wasn’t enough nutrition to keep us strong.
“I can’t wait to see my family,” a man said.
“Me either.”
I left them to the talk of happy reunions, as long as they fell into formation when Thornton barked the order. And they did. My soldiers were young and old, male and female, but they all had courage to spare. We marched alongside the wagons with the Company D banner flying high; and it was dusk when the monsters came.
This was their first chance to strike at us in the open, a risk I’d known we were taking when I decided to protect the caravan. But if they got hold of these supplies, people in Soldier’s Pond and Gaspard might starve, plus it’d strengthen the enemy. I couldn’t let that happen. I recalled what Dr. Wilson said about how hunger made them digest their own brains. If we kept them from finding new food sources, they’d get dumber and easier to kill. They came at us in the loping run now so familiar to me, but there was no smell at all, except the sweat of unwashed soldiers and the general reek of the mules.
“Formation C,” I shouted.
Thankfully, our drills had prepared the men for a number of contingencies, and they arrayed themselves with foot soldiers in front and riflemen in back. Tully vaulted on top of a wagon, then pulled Gavin up beside her. From on top of the crates they opened fire, gunning down two to start the bloodshed off right. The animals screamed in terror but the drivers sawed at the reins and didn’t let them bolt in panic. I waited at the front, braced to receive their charge.
I had Tegan on one side and Fade on the other. She knocked one down for me, just like she used to do for Stalker, and I stabbed it through the neck. Tegan smashed one in the face as Morrow ran it through, and on my other side, Fade fought with economical grace, his moves a dodge and weave that never left my flank vulnerable. I stayed tight too, my blades spinning in the purple light. I lost count of how many I killed, but I heard Tully shout she was out of quarrels. A few riflemen said the same, and they pushed forward to fight with their knives.
Blood gushed, like spilled wine across the pub floor in Otterburn. The monsters knew they had to win this fight, so they never broke and ran, not even when Fade slew the last one with a blade straight through the heart.
The victory cost us twenty men, however. Before we moved, Company D dug another mass grave to keep scavengers away. Tully spoke the words on our behalf because I was too tired and I had nothing to say. As we shoveled dirt on their bloody faces, I noticed how young some of them were, a few barely meeting my age limit.
You did this. You took these boys and girls away from their mothers.
“But I didn’t kill them,” I whispered.
The words didn’t assuage my guilt. When we moved on, we were a bleak, unhappy group, and the thin gruel we ate for supper didn’t cheer anybody up. The scouts found us a clear path to Soldier’s Pond thereafter, and while they saw smaller groups of Freaks prowling the hills nearby, none of them dared to attack. I was exhausted beyond description when we saw Soldier’s Pond on the horizon. A weary huzzah came from the men, but they didn’t look good. Many had developed sores; their shoes and boots were in rags, so their feet bled as we marched.
My dream hung in tatters, and though we were doing some good, I was failing at keeping my men safe and healthy. I didn’t have the experience for this, but the problem was, nobody did. Humans had cowered in their settlements for so long that they had forgotten how to fight without terrible potions and mysterious poisons. The only information we had came from Morrow’s stories—and I still needed to ask him about those.
There should be time in Soldier’s Pond.
The guards came out to meet the wagons, offering safe escort, and that was just as well, as I didn’t think my men had any fight in them. The townsfolk might complain about us appearing to gobble up their provisions, but they wouldn’t have these trade goods from Gaspard without us. And Soldier’s Pond was far from self-sufficient.
“Thank you,” the trader said as the caravan passed the town’s defenses. “We’d have died on the road if not for your men.”
His name was Marlon Bean, and I expected him to add his story to the ones circulating from Vince Howe and John Kelley. In the long run, their goodwill might save Company D, but for the moment, I merely nodded and led the soldiers to a much-desired homecoming. The guards had all kinds of questions, but I hushed them with an impatient gesture. It wasn’t until I saw Tegan’s brows go up that I realized how used to command I had become.
I frowned at her as I called, “I’m giving all of you forty-eight-hours’ leave. The mess is over there … stick with a local if you don’t know the way. Once you’ve eaten, find the bathhouse. Then locate a bunk and get some rest. Some of you need your wounds wrapped or bandages changed. I don’t think anybody’s likely to die overnight, so see Tegan and me in the morning. We’ll fix you up. That’s all. And enjoy the break.”
The men surged off, grateful to be out of the wilderness. I knew how they felt.
Fade beckoned with a stern look. “That order to rest goes for you too.”
Since I was dizzy by this point, I let him tow me toward the mess. If we were off schedule, I’d make the cook open the kitchen myself. Fortunately, however, Colonel Park was on top of things. She met us in the hall and she had two extra workers in tow so they could make more food quickly. As usual, it was tasteless, but we were all so hungry I would’ve happily eaten a bucket of the mushroom porridge they gave us down below.
As we ate, I realized belatedly that we’d sat in a cluster of officers. Nothing so formal had ever been declared, of course, but I always turned to Fade, Tegan, Thornton, Tully, Morrow, or Spence when I needed something. And here we sat, nobody else at our table. I wouldn’t have sent anyone else away, but I guessed the others figured this was our inner circle, and we had clever plans to make. Or maybe they just wanted a break from the lot of us. I listened to the conversation with half an ear; it was an important issue, but I lacked the drive to tackle the problem straightaway when I had forty-seven hours of freedom.
“We have to ask all towns in the territory for a tithe,” Thornton was arguing.
Morrow protested, “But we can’t make them give us supplies.”
Spence scowled, gesturing with his spoon so that he was in danger of losing the stewed poultry and dough he’d scooped up. “We can refuse to protect them if they choose not to.”
It sounded hard, but maybe he was right. If they weren’t willing to tighten their belts and donate to the soldiers keeping the horde at bay, then they could deal with the consequences. In so many ways, I’d bitten off more than I could chew; some days, only pure stubbornness kept me pushing forward when I felt so stupid, the least suitable person to be leading Company D.
Morrow shook his head, however. “Fear and intimidation won’t serve long-term. They’ll only come to see us as tyrants, the reasons their families are going hungry.”
“There’s also the matter of hauling provisions,” Fade said. “If we have wagons full of supplies, rather than just what we each carry, then it slows our movements. And we lack the numbers to face the horde head-on.”
He was right about that. Before we joined up with the Gaspard traders, we’d sent scouts to Appleton, trying to get a handle on the actual number and there were still too many to count. It was impossible to send someone all through town, but from what Sands told us, the Freaks were living in the town, not ransacking it. They hadn’t damaged the buildings; they were moving in and out of the houses like people, and that alarmed me as much as anything I’d heard.
“We won’t solve this over dinner,” Tully said at last. “Why don’t we talk to the colonel tomorrow and see what she suggests? Her family has always been in the military and she’s got a lot of old books full of historical campaigns.”
I leveled a look at Morrow. The last time we were here, I’d noticed how he kissed the colonel on her cheeks, though he wasn’t her husband. With a single raised brow, I invited him to elaborate, but he held his silence, and I made up my mind that I’d unearth his secrets before we moved out again.