by Ann Aguirre
Tegan wore a stony expression as she treated the wounded. I joined her and offered another set of hands, admiring her skill. Pain lurked deep in her eyes as she wrapped up a brat’s burned arm. I didn’t know the young one, but Tegan called him by name, then sent him to his mother, who was uninjured. It would be faster if we could go in and help, but the tunnel only permitted one at a time, which made the exodus interminable. A few minutes later, I recognized Momma Oaks crawling out of the hole. Tegan had to be watching for Doc, but she didn’t pause her work.
I did. She clasped my hand and I pulled her up the rest of the way, then I looked for Edmund.
She shook her head. “He’s fighting, along with the other men. I don’t know if—”
Before she could voice her doubts, I hugged her. “Are you hurt?”
“No. Just tired. It’s been awful.” I suspected that was an understatement.
I could read Tegan’s reaction. Still no Doc. Still no foster mom. I hadn’t known her new parents well, but I suspected the doctor was still inside tending to the men and his wife would be helping him. The assurance of their courage didn’t make Tegan feel any better, though; and I knew how she felt.
So I had to keep busy.
Morgan set guards on the perimeter and I sent Stalker to scout. He was the only one who could find out what was going on without alerting the enemy. We needed information, but not at the cost of bringing the horde down on us. At the moment our priority was extraction. I went back to helping Tegan by passing her salves and liquids, wrapping wounds and binding burns. Time ticked on; and as the final moments approached, I sagged a little in relief as my foster brother, Rex, hauled Edmund out of the hole. A few more men stumbled up into the fresh air, most of them badly injured.
“That’s it,” Rex said, his voice hoarse. “There’s nobody else capable of following.”
Tegan bit out a quiet cry, but she quickly bent her head and continued working. She was still at it when Stalker returned. I led him away from the others.
“What’s it like out there?”
“A slaughter.” In the moonlight, his scarred face looked pale. “And I swear there are even more than there were out on the plains.”
“Where are they all coming from? And why?” I didn’t expect an answer.
Just as well. He couldn’t provide one. “We need to move. The bulk of the horde is prowling the burning wreckage right now, but there are scouting parties all over the area. There’s a hundred strong just to the southeast.”
A chill went through me as I imagined trying to fight off that many with so few warriors and fifty Breeders to protect. I nodded at Stalker. “Thanks.”
Tegan was still bandaging the injured, her face a study in sorrow. She didn’t look up at me until I put my hand on her shoulder. Then a sob escaped her as she tied off the fabric and sent the wounded man on his way. I put my arms around her and hugged tight; she buried her face in my shoulder.
“It’s not fair,” she whispered. “The townspeople need Doc more than ever and he’s not—”
“They have you,” I said.
“I’m not as good. There are so many things I haven’t learned.”
“I bet there’s a doctor in Soldier’s Pond. As soon as you get there, find him and tell him you mean to continue your studies.”
That stalled her tears. “Will we be there that long?”
“I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “But anything you learn will help down the line and bring you a little closer to feeling like you’ve earned the right to be called doctor.”
Tegan hugged me back, then let go. “Thank you.”
I didn’t say any of the warm things bubbling at the back of my mind—about how she could cry later or that Doc and Mrs. Tuttle had been good people, well worth her tears. There was no time for softness. I strode over to Morgan.
“If your men are ready, we can move out now. I’m told we’re within whistling distance of a battle we can’t win.”
To his credit, he didn’t ask for particulars. The stench of burning buildings mingled with the unmistakable scent of seared flesh motivated him well enough. In low tones, he gave orders to his men, who began rounding up the injured. Some of them would require transport, which meant this journey would take more like three or four days instead of the two we had managed with a hard march. A knot formed in my stomach when I considered how many things could go wrong before I got the survivors to Soldier’s Pond.
Ruse
Fade came up to me as Morgan’s men were lashing branches to make litters for the wounded. Despite the dire situation, his posture was loose and limber. Unlike most, he thrived under such conditions. Most likely, this trait permitted him to survive alone down below. When other people fell apart, he only got tougher and more determined, and the more he fought, the more he won, the higher his confidence rose. I didn’t know if tonight’s victory would improve his emotional state, but I hoped so. Tegan had made it clear there was no way for me to fix him. The shift had to come from inside Fade’s own head.
My body ached. To cover my weakness, I asked, “How do you like our chances?”
“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I’d like it less if we didn’t try.”
That summed up my feelings, too. “We won’t be sleeping for a while. Hope you’re ready.”
“How do you prepare for something like this? I wish it hadn’t come to a desperate evac … but it’s good to feel useful again.” Fade gestured at the soot-stained faces and children terrified to silence at the upending of their orderly world.
Among their number, I saw Zachary Bigwater but neither of the elder Bigwaters, nor his sister, Justine. The kid looked older than he had a few days before when he’d begged to come with us because he was sweet on Tegan. In a heartbeat, everything could change. He wore despair like a necktie; it slumped his shoulders and kept his head low. For some reason, he couldn’t meet anybody’s gaze. Tegan tried to talk to him, but he turned away without speaking.
“He’s carrying a pretty big burden,” I said softly.
“Losing everything isn’t easy.”
Fade knew that better than anyone. Once, he had a sire and dam who loved him. First she got sick, then his sire did, ultimately leaving him alone. A lesser boy would’ve wound up in the gangs and let them take away everything his parents taught him. Instead he fled to the dangers and darkness down below, determined to hold fast to the person they’d taught him to be. Even down below, the elders hadn’t touched the inner core that made him special. I admired him for that.
I loved him for everything.
Studying the refugees, I shook my head in perplexity. It was preposterous to imagine that we could herd such a large group to Soldier’s Pond while escaping detection, but failure was unthinkable. Somehow we had to deliver them to safety; otherwise everything about Salvation would be lost. I understood that intuitively, seeing echoes of the ruins. All the people who lived and loved in Gotham had been decimated. I didn’t want to see that happen to the people who had been kind enough to take us in.
“They have no chance without us,” I whispered.
“It’ll come down to avoiding enemy scouting parties,” Stalker said, joining us.
“Do you have some ideas in that regard?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Let’s hear them.”
“We could split into smaller groups, trying to lead them away from the refugees.”
I shook my head. “That would leave them defenseless if the strategy failed.”
“If it comes down to a straight-up fight, we’ve already lost,” Stalker said flatly.
Fade prickled to life. “With that attitude, what’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be saving your own skin? You excel at that, as I recall.”
At the veiled reference to how he’d abandoned his cubs at the first sign of trouble in the ruins and threw his lot in with us because we knew how to fight the Freaks, Stalker narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. While I didn’t want th
em arguing, I was glad to see Fade getting angry about anything, even strategy.
Still, I stepped between them and shook my head. “We should talk to Morgan. Presumably he’s been fighting the Freaks longer than we have.” He was older anyway, though that didn’t always mean what I thought it should in terms of experience. “Come on.”
The boys flanking me, I joined the guardsman. “Do you have any thoughts on how we can keep these people alive?”
“Pray to all your saints.”
I had no idea what that meant or what a saint might be. This didn’t seem like the time to ask. “Are you being serious?”
“Half,” Morgan said. “But it’s not the most practical approach. A group as large as ours will certainly attract attention. I propose we send scouts ahead to make sure the way is clear and keep sentries moving on the perimeters at all times. I’ll also need a squad to guard our rear flank. That’s the group most likely to see combat.”
“I’ll fight,” I said.
“Me too.” Fade spoke almost as quickly as I did.
Stalker didn’t react to that quiet resurgence of our old dynamic; at least we weren’t broken as a fighting team. “If I’m welcome, I’ll volunteer as a forward scout.”
Morgan glanced my way, probably for confirmation this was a good idea. So I said, “He’s the best Salvation has.”
“Then welcome aboard. Go see Calhoun for your assignment.” Stalker didn’t look at me again, merely went off to the fellow Morgan indicated. That told me he was annoyed that I hadn’t let him hit Fade. To me, the guard added, “I’ll leave my best fighting men with you.”
“You’re marching with the main group?” I asked.
Morgan nodded. “I’m not the best soldier, only the man the colonel trusts the most.”
I could see why. He had a steady air and he gave the impression that he could handle himself in a crisis. That didn’t always equate to raw battle prowess. “Tegan will be staying with you as well. She’s the closest thing Salvation has to a doctor since Doc Tuttle didn’t make it out.”
“She’ll be welcome. And I’ll look out for her personally.”
“Her leg bothers her sometimes,” Fade added.
I frowned at him because she didn’t like people treating her like she was crippled, but in a situation like this, Morgan needed to know. She’d already taxed her thigh getting from Salvation to Soldier’s Pond and back again. Tegan must be hurting but she was more concerned with those who needed her than with her own physical limitations. There was only one thing left to do, so I wove through the milling crowd to check on my family.
Edmund was thin and hollow-eyed from the stress of the situation. As I approached, he put an arm around Momma Oaks, then reached for me with his other one. Up close he smelled of wood smoke and leather, though I couldn’t forget the why of the former. Rex stood slightly apart, wearing the dull, shocked expression of someone who couldn’t credit the sudden loss. I stepped into their embrace, quietly grateful that my family was intact when so many others weren’t.
Momma Oaks kissed my cheek, her hand gentle on my hair. “There were just too many. You mustn’t blame yourself. We didn’t have the ammunition or the manpower to hold the walls.” She must’ve been so frightened, but there was little evidence of it at the moment.
“And then they figured out how to use the torches.”
Edmund nodded, squeezing my shoulder with one arm. “But I told everyone you’d be back with help … and here you are.”
“It’s not enough,” I said softly.
Rex started at that. When he spoke, his tone was incredulous. “It’s more than anyone thought you’d manage. When Elder Bigwater said he’d sent the four of you on a rescue mission, most didn’t think you’d come back. We didn’t expect you to save the whole town, Deuce.”
That was news to me. Maybe it was an impossible task, but I’d set out intending to achieve it. This lesser version of success hurt. Still, I’d take fifty-odd lives over none. I hugged my parents in turn.
“What happened inside?” I asked.
Edmund sighed. “Like she said, we didn’t have the ammo to hold the walls. Smith fell behind on production, and once we started running out, the Muties got bolder. Then one of the monsters threw a brand. It got lucky and the wall caught.”
“That gave others the idea,” I guessed.
“Once a fire takes hold,” Momma Oaks said tiredly, “there’s not a whole lot you can do.”
“Why didn’t Elder Bigwater oversee the evacuation sooner?”
Rex’s expression hardened. “Because he was too busy dealing with his mad wife.”
“Oh, no. What did she do?”
Momma Oaks bent her head. “She kept ranting about how violating the covenant with heaven led to our downfall—that if we got right with our faith—the Muties would go away. Her supporters got in the way of defense and the water brigade, as if prayers ever put out a fire.”
“I’m as devout as the next man,” Edmund said, “but I don’t believe the Lord works that way, and I don’t think these monsters are part of a divine plan.”
Rex nodded. “Me either. I refute a god who would do such a thing to test people who have done their best to live according to his laws.”
I had an opinion on that. “The Muties are like wild animals … or they were. Now, they seem more like us. I’d love to know where they came from … and why they’re changing.”
“Maybe someone out there has answers for you,” Edmund said.
“Something you credit more than our stories,” Momma Oaks added.
“I hope so.” Changing the subject, I quickly explained the plan, then finished, “It’s important that you follow instructions and stay close to Morgan. I’ll meet up with you again in Soldier’s Pond.”
I glimpsed a thousand protests in my mother’s eyes, but she voiced none of them. That made her brave in a way I couldn’t match. Whenever Fade was in danger, I wanted to be right there beside him, fighting. It would be beyond me to watch someone I loved stride into jeopardy without me, even if it was best. Her strength surpassed mine by far.
Tears in his eyes, Edmund nodded. “We’ll be safe, don’t worry about us.”
There was no way I could help it, but I took the reassurance as he meant it. He wanted me to go forth and fight without their safety preying on my mind. I appreciated the gesture. I repaid Edmund with an extra tight hug, then I went into Momma Oaks’s arms. She wrapped them around me tight and I breathed her in, more smoke and blood, underlaid with the faintest scent of bread. It had been days since she’d baked, but the smell lingered to remind me of home.
When I came to Rex, I hesitated as I didn’t know him well and most of my interactions with him had come in the form of goading. He addressed my hesitation by hugging me gently. Close up, I could feel that he was shaking, barely putting a brave face on his wife’s loss.
So I gave him a job to distract him. “Watch over them for me. I’m holding you personally responsible for their welfare.”
“Noted,” Rex said sharply.
But his shoulders straightened when we parted. I could see he was thinking about his parents now and not Ruth. There would be time enough to mourn her in whatever way he saw fit. Not now. Not with fires blazing in the distance and the muted snarls of Freaks prowling the woods in search of survivors. I couldn’t remember when the stakes had been so high.
Soon enough, we split into three: scouting party, main group, and the rear guard. Fade, me, and five of Morgan’s best men, who ranged wildly in age, composed the rear. Dennis wasn’t much older than Fade or me, lean and nondescript, yet by the way he handled his rifle and knives, I could tell he was among the best. In contrast, all of Thornton’s hair had silvered, though his beard still bore traces of black. His dark eyes revealed a canny knowledge; strong shoulders and a broad back made him a greater threat. To me he looked like a grappler, a man who preferred brute force to finesse. I also recognized him as the man who had been assisting Morgan in Soldier�
��s Pond.
I guessed the third one, Spence, was five years or so older than me, short and wiry with shorn red hair. The first time I saw that shade, I was fascinated, as nobody down below had it. Now, I was only interested in how well Spence could fight, and his demeanor gave me no clue. He had a freckled, open-looking face, devoid of violence, yet Morgan had promised us the best. So I’d withhold judgment until I saw him in combat.
Morrow was the fourth. Thin and dark haired, he had a ready smile and a set of pipes slung across his back; you’d mistake him for a fool until you caught the glint in his eyes. Underestimating this man would be the last mistake you ever made, and I figured he couldn’t be more than two years older than Fade. Yet he gave the impression of experience.
The last member was named Tulliver, Tully for short. Her green eyes were keen, set deep in a strong face. She was almost as tall as Fade and older than anyone but Thornton, but her hair was still fair. Most intriguing, she wore an interesting weapon strapped to her back. I’d never seen anything like it. I glanced at Fade to see what he made of it, but he wasn’t paying attention to our recruits. Instead, he was staring at me like I was the last slice of cake on a plate, and somebody had told him he couldn’t have it.
After a flurry of farewells, Stalker headed out with the scouting party. Tegan set out with the Salvation survivors, Morgan leading the way. My family cast a final look in my direction, then they followed as well. This was a terrifying gambit, and we wouldn’t find out if it had succeeded until we reached Soldier’s Pond.
Carnage
“Morgan put me in charge,” Thornton said. “If anyone has a problem with that, you’d better speak up now so I can knock it out of you.”
Nobody made a sound.
“Good. Let’s move. Remember, we’re not trying to practice good woodcraft. We’re leaving a trail for them to follow. More than likely, we’ll see some combat before we get home.”