Horde r-3

by Ann Aguirre

  “What is this?” I asked, stepping in.

  “The officers’ club. It’s where they go in their off hours to drink and avoid their families.”

  That sounded odd. “Are you sure nobody will catch us?”

  He shook his head. “They’re asleep by now. I’ve come here to think more than once, and nobody bothered me. The enlisted men are afraid of punishment, so they don’t trespass. As long as we don’t turn on any lights or make a ton of noise, none of the watchmen will come in.”

  The fire had burned down low, so Fade moved to stir it, churning the glowing orange sparks through the ashes, then he added a length of wood from the pile. With careful management, the blaze caught, then he beckoned me to the sofa nearest the hearth. It was old and worn, like most things in Soldier’s Pond; I could see where the leather had been poorly patched.

  It was toasty in here compared with the outdoors. I imagined being in the woods and shivered. Fade pulled me down beside him, probably believing I was cold. I didn’t enlighten him as I settled against his side. Warmth prickled over my skin, both from the cheerful fire and his proximity.

  “This is a nice surprise.” I hadn’t known there was anyplace we could escape to, here.

  “It’s not the same,” he said.

  I knew what he meant. The first night we stayed together, there had been candles and kissing, whispered words and inexpressible sweetness.

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  Holding his gaze with mine, I waited until he offered permission in the form of a quick nod. Then I touched his cheek with gentle fingertips, tracing over to his temple. I feathered my hand into his hair. His breath caught, but I didn’t think it was because I was hurting or scaring him. Still, I paused to make sure he was still with me. His eyes were dark and hot, half lidded.

  “More,” he whispered.

  I obliged. Shaping his head with my fingertips, I petted him as I had done the night he slept with his head in my lap. And by his expression, he remembered. Maybe I could help by reminding him of all the good feelings that came along with being touched. I was slow and gentle, no sudden movements, and when I grazed the nape of his neck with my nails, he actually shivered. Fade leaned closer, then wrapped his arms around me. He didn’t seem to be thinking at all anymore, his face soft and dreamy.

  When he kissed the side of my throat, I bit my lip. It felt surprisingly good. He followed with more kisses just beneath my jaw. His skin rasped slightly against mine, reminding me that he was a man, not a boy, and he’d shaved off the scruffy beard grown over weeks in the wild. My heartbeat quickened as his mouth grew more heated, and he hadn’t even touched my lips. He was breathing fast when he put a hand on my shoulder. He urged me back on the sofa, and I let him because I had the odd desire for him to cover me like a blanket. Fade made a satisfied sound as he lay down, and then he kissed me.

  My eyes closed. The feeling exploded like embers of the fire, kindling into a full burn. It was a summer sky of a kiss, breathless and endlessly blue, full of berry sweetness and sunshine. That long, luxuriant tasting turned into smaller kisses, our lips touching again and again, until we were both shivering, despite the warmth of the room. Fade drew back and framed my face in his palms; I could see powerful emotion working in his eyes.

  “I was afraid,” he whispered. “But I was wrong to be. This … this is still perfect, even if I’m not.”

  “I’m not, either,” I whispered.

  I moved beneath him and his expression grew pained. He pushed back before he could help himself, teasing us both. In that moment, I’d have given him anything.

  “This is…” He trailed off as I settled beneath him, finding the right fit.

  “We could.” I knew exactly what I was suggesting.

  “Not here, with no guarantee of privacy. It should be special.”

  Fade shifted then, drawing me into his arms. We twined like tree and vine, his legs tangled with mine, and I lay so I could feel the warmth of the fire on my back. I kissed his neck.

  “I love you.” His voice came low and rough.

  “I love you too.” My response was smooth and easy, as if I had been waiting my whole life to offer him those words. No doubts, no hesitations. This feeling was woven through me until it seemed like it would kill me to root it out.

  “Thanks for not giving up on me.”

  “Have you ever known me to walk away from a fight?” I cocked a brow in challenge.

  Fade laughed softly. “Never.”

  “We should get back before someone catches us … or Momma Oaks notices we’re gone.”

  With a groan, he let go of me. I took that for agreement. As we slipped out of the officers’ club, the night was still quiet with the moon reflecting off the new fallen snow. Our tracks had been covered so we made new ones back to the barracks.

  But Fade left me there with a rueful shake of his head. “I can’t come to bed yet. I’m going for a run.”

  I blushed because I understood why. So I slid into bed, but not before Momma Oaks raised up on an elbow and fixed me with a sleepy, pointed look. It said, You haven’t gotten away with anything. For some reason, I wanted to laugh, but that would wake Edmund and Rex, so I just rolled into my blankets. I barely stirred when Fade got into the bunk above mine.

  And in the morning, everything was different.

  I didn’t understand the shift at first, but soldiers I didn’t know greeted me by name. A few stopped me to ask about the Freak fang necklaces my men wore, and a sentry called down from the tower, “Let’s hear it for Company D!”

  In the mess, I found my men all sitting together, including Stalker’s scouts. They waved me over to join them. I brought my food, surprised by their camaraderie. Both success and failure created bonds, I supposed, and we’d seen our share of each while we traveled.

  “Does anyone know why we’re getting VIP treatment?” Tully wanted to know.

  “What’s a VIP?” I was glad Stalker asked, because I didn’t know, either.

  “Very important person.” Morrow grinned. “I might’ve had something to do with that. Between my account of the treaty and the talking Freak, they think we can move mountains.”

  “Deuce especially,” Spence noted.

  I mumbled a curse. “What did you tell them?”

  “So what’s the plan for the spring campaign?” Thornton interrupted, changing the subject.

  They took it for granted we’d be going out again—that we wouldn’t rest on our laurels once the cold weather passed. In all honesty, I had no grand scheme, but I didn’t care to disappoint them. So I considered while I ate my breakfast, listening to them swap jests. Fade sat beside me, quiet, but not in a sad or brooding way, more quietly watchful, the way he’d been before the Freaks took him.

  “Scouting first,” I said in the first lull. “After the thaw. To plan, I need intel on how much of the horde survived the winter. Fortunately, the Muties aren’t as good at strategy yet.”

  “Yet,” Tully muttered.

  I nodded at her. “Who knows how fast they’ll catch on? Once we know how many are left and where they’re headed, we can decide what to do.”

  Nobody laughed or said that twelve soldiers couldn’t make a difference. We already had.

  “You know my favorite part of this?” Spence grinned as he asked the question.

  I shook my head. “What?”

  “We’re all off the regular duty rosters. That means no midnight watches, no patrols outside the fence, no cooking, cleaning the bathhouse, or working in the animal sheds.”

  Thornton smirked. “That is a boon. I can’t remember the last time I had an easy winter.”

  “If anyone complains,” Morrow put in, “tell them you’re part of Company D.”

  I glanced at Tegan, who shook her head. “I heard it, but I don’t know what it means.”

  “It’s our squad name,” Morrow said.

  “Who came up with it?” Stalker asked.

  The storyteller’s e
xpression grew crafty. “The men who want to join up. I’ve been spreading the word about our success, and they decided the squad should be named after Deuce.”

  I suspected there might be more to say, but he didn’t, and I was too delighted at learning we had more potential recruits to pursue the matter. That day, ten men approached me quietly and asked whether I’d consider letting them volunteer when we marched out for the second time, Harry Carter among them. He’d wanted to come before, but he wasn’t strong enough. Whether it was the first taste of success or the idea of getting off the duty roster, I wasn’t sure, but I told all of them that they were welcome. The following night, I spoke to five more.

  A week later, Zach Bigwater approached me. He was the only member of his family to survive the fire, and for a while, I didn’t know whether he’d make it. For weeks, he didn’t speak and it was a chore for Tegan to get him to eat. But he came to me that afternoon.

  “I want to join Company D,” he said without preamble.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m tired of feeling helpless.”

  “I think you need to tell me what happened in Salvation.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “So many people died because of me.”

  “The town was under siege. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “It was,” he said heavily. “I ran and hid. I was paralyzed when the walls came down. I should’ve told somebody sooner about the tunnel, but I couldn’t make myself move, even as people died all around me. I’m a coward.”

  His actions didn’t recommend him as a volunteer, but I thought I understood why he wanted to fight. “And you’re looking to redeem yourself now, prove something?”

  “If it’s possible,” he whispered.

  “Then welcome aboard.” I’d keep an eye on him, but I couldn’t turn anyone away.

  The number of fresh volunteers trickled off as the weeks wore on, and the snow piled higher. During the cold months, I kept my men sharp. I asked for—and received—an indoor training yard. The colonel responded with her typical ambivalence … and put us in the cowshed. With the animals in their stalls, there was room for us to spar … and I pushed the others, myself as well. We drilled hard, practiced fighting as a group, worked out silent command signals and battle strategies for all kinds of scenarios. Word got out about our sessions, and the men who had asked to join up, but were not yet officially part of Company D, worked in their off hours, concerned about keeping up with us.

  By the time the snow started to melt, we were all stronger, and Tegan was a wonder with her staff, banded properly with metal for optimal impact. All over Soldier’s Pond, they called us an elite unit, which meant we were really good at fighting.

  To my astonishment, I trotted out Silk’s old lectures. I think she’d be pleased. “Don’t waste your energy. Kill quickly. We’ll be battling superior numbers, so save your strength. No showing off, just take your opponent down, then move on to the next.”

  I watched them spar for a few seconds, shaking my head. “Thornton, you’re working too hard. Yes, you’re a brute, but crushing skulls is exhausting. I need you to kill faster.”

  “I’m an old man.” But it wasn’t a protest; it was a statement—unbelievable to have this grizzled veteran taking criticism from me so readily. “Show me an easier way.”

  Over the past month, it had become apparent that he had little hand-to-hand training, so I put him with Stalker. Eventually I got him to use two small hand axes instead of weights in his fists. The blades were heavy enough that he felt comfortable with them, well suited to efficient hacking motions that should drop Freaks quicker.

  In early March, Stalker and five scouts went out to locate the horde. It was a risky mission, and I worried the whole time they were gone. The rest of us continued training; I had to feel confident we’d function as a unit when we moved out. A week later, the scouting party returned, half frozen and starved, but full of interesting information. Stalker dismissed the others while he and I went to the mess. It wasn’t open for meals, but there were always drinks available.

  I poured two mugs of herbal tea from the warm pot and settled at our usual table. Stalker’s skin was ruddy and chapped, his lips split. Despite melting snow and occasional bursts of sunshine, the weather was still raw. I hoped that meant bad things for the enemy. With so many animals in hibernation, game was scarce this time of year. With any luck, the horde had to turn most of its attention to finding food rather than attacking human settlements.

  “It’s bad,” he said quietly. “Appleton is gone.”

  That hit me hard. They’d laughed at us there, less extreme than the hanging they threatened in Gaspard, but still bad enough that I had unpleasant memories of the place. Appleton was bigger than Salvation, but less defensible; I suspected it hadn’t been a problem when the Freaks were scattered nuisances. People who hadn’t seen the horde before it swept down on them couldn’t imagine the sheer numbers … or the horror, so I didn’t blame them for the reaction, but it was horrible they’d paid such a high price for their skepticism.

  “Survivors?”

  “No. They butchered the townsfolk, and the horde seems to be digging in. Looked like fewer bodies than last time, but there’s still a couple thousand of them.”

  “I hoped the cold would cull more of them.”

  Stalker shook his head, sipping his hot drink. “I bet that’s why they took Appleton. They’re roasting the townsfolk, plus they have shelter and supplies. They’ll be fine until spring.”

  This was just the kind of news I dreaded. I was sure Appleton’s relative lack of defenses had contributed to the horde’s decision to sack that town first. Soldier’s Pond would’ve required a lot more time and effort. And in the cold with a weakening force, it made sense to take out a soft target. Come spring, however, every town in the territories would be at risk.

  “Will you tell the colonel?” I asked.

  He nodded, offering a half-smile. “I appreciate you asking me instead of ordering.”

  “You run the scouts, not me. I just thought she might benefit from the information.”

  If the loss of a town within two weeks of travel didn’t alarm her, the colonel wasn’t as smart as I thought. This gave the horde a terrifying foothold in the area. When the weather improved, they’d consider what target to eliminate next. If they came to Soldier’s Pond, it’d mean a long, ugly siege. Eventually, the Freaks would figure out how to get around—or tear down—the fences, or the ammo stockpile would run out.

  I couldn’t let that happen to my family. Not again.

  Entreaty

  It was just after the noon meal when the messenger arrived from Winterville. I had been braced for bad news since I heard Stalker’s report, so I wasn’t surprised by the urgency. The runner was ragged and thin; and by his various wounds, he wasn’t accustomed to traveling. The odd thing about his injuries, though … they didn’t look as if a Freak had inflicted them. I strode up to the guards listening to his breathless stammers—and my status in town had changed to the point that none of them questioned my presence. They were used to seeing me roam in and out of HQ, consulting with Colonel Park on concerns she didn’t share with anyone but her advisors.

  “We need help,” the man was gasping.

  “Muties?” Morgan asked. I had learned that he was married to the colonel, not that they were effusive in their public affections.

  Since Winterville was closer than Salvation, it was possible we could mount a successful defense, depending on the nature of the attack. The weather wasn’t ideal for mobilizing, but if we packed well and moved fast, we might be able to hit them from behind. As I recalled, the research annex was mostly built from a peculiar, wrinkled metal, so at least it wouldn’t burn before we got there. The rest of the houses might well be gone, however.

  The messenger shook his head, startling us all. “Dr. Wilson said to find Deuce. He said to tell her there’s trouble on the south side—that she’ll know what it means.”

 
; I bit out a curse. Whatever they had done with their feral humans, containment must’ve failed. And from what I recalled of Winterville, they had no dedicated warriors. It was an odd little town, no mistake, but that didn’t mean they all deserved to be killed because Wilson was a madman who invented crazy potions and tested them on his own people.

  “Get this man some medical attention,” I said to the guards. “Then find him some hot food. I’ll take it from here.”

  It wasn’t until I was walking away, and I heard Morgan say, “Come on, we’ll take you to see Doc Tegan first,” that it fully sank in just how much things had changed.

  Those men took my orders without question, and they weren’t even part of Company D. My shoulders squared, and I walked a little taller on the way to HQ. Inside, the colonel was waiting for my word on the situation.

  Quickly I summarized the problem, then reminded her of what Wilson had told me. She listened with her usual acuity. Since our go-round earlier in the year when I’d threatened to cut her throat, the colonel treated me with caution and respect. I’d come to the conclusion she wasn’t a bad person, but like Silk, she had the ability to make awful choices for the good of the whole. It wasn’t a trait I coveted.

  “Do you have any idea how many infected souls we’re talking about?”

  I shook my head. “They won’t be as smart as the Muties we’ve been fighting, though. Wilson said their higher brain function was compromised.” Though I wasn’t fully clear on what that meant, I guessed they’d be like the Freaks I fought first, down below.

  “So you don’t know how many men you need.”

  “I have forty-four at last count.” Such a small crew, compared with the horde, but we’d likely be equal to the problems in Winterville.

  “Then handle it. By the way, I’ve decided to commission Company D formally for rescue operations. Given what we know of mutant intentions and numerical advantage, it seems likely more of these requests will arrive. You’ll retain command and will assess all threats and determine the best response, according to our resources.”