Horde r-3

by Ann Aguirre

  As the liquor flowed, stories tumbled out one after another. Many of them had the magical quality of the one Morrow had told about the boy who lived in the cupboard. I had a hard time listening to all of them, but the storyteller was in his element. Now and then I caught him scribbling frantically to be sure he didn’t miss any of the details.

  Tegan sat with Dr. Wilson, pestering him with questions, but rather than being annoyed, he seemed pleased by her interest. The scientist had endless patience for her curiosity, even if I didn’t understand half the things he was telling her. She glowed by firelight, looking at Wilson as if he were the greatest present she ever got, even without the fancy wrapping. I laughed quietly, and Fade tightened his arm around my shoulders. Moments like these were few and far between.

  “Do you ever wonder what happened down below after we left?” he asked, surprising me.

  “All the time. I wish there was some way for us to find out.” But we had come so far, not just in actual distance. I might even be frightened to go back down into darkness, fearing it would choose to keep me this time and not let me go back into the light.

  “Me too. I know you had friends you left behind.”

  “Not very good ones, as it turns out. They believed the worst of me awfully fast.” That was an old wound, one I’d hardly acknowledged.

  “I’m sure they had their reasons,” Fade said.

  I gave a bitter laugh. “They trusted the elders, like I did before you got inside my head.”

  “Are you sorry about that?”

  “How can you even ask? My life is so much better because you’re in it—and not just because we went Topside.”

  He gave me a crooked smile, and his gaze lingered on my lips. “It’s nice to hear.”

  I winced, taking that as a criticism. Deep down I knew I wasn’t the best at talking about my feelings, and Fade probably needed to hear how important he was to me, as much as I could express it. “I’ll try to be a better partner.”

  “You’re spot on with the killing,” he told me, smiling.

  That was a quiet nod at our time together down below when I was completely oblivious to the fact that he wanted to be more than my hunting mate. My cheeks heated. “I’ll work on the talking.”

  The fact that my private thoughts mattered to him meant more than he knew. As I struggled to find the words to express them, the lights went out overhead. The fiddler paused his tune as the night darkened, leaving only the fires crackling. People quieted also, as if they remembered all too well how dangerous nights filled with monsters could be.

  “I’m sure it’s just a malfunction in the wires,” Dr. Wilson said. “Or possibly the windmill that powers this part of town has broken down.”

  A dozen slurred voices added their opinions, but I recognized the prickle crawling over my bare arms. I signaled my men, and Company D was on its feet, ready for battle in less than thirty seconds. I spun until I located Stalker, but he was already coming toward me. He recognized this as his area of expertise.

  “Will you see what’s going on?” I asked, low. “But don’t engage. We need intel.”

  This time, he took none of his scouts, heading off at a silent run. He moved with all the grace of a creature born in the wild, and within seconds, he vanished into the shadows. The party mood was gone, and the Winterville folk started packing up the food, hurrying toward the houses where they had hidden for days already. Most still had barricades for the windows and doors; I hoped they wouldn’t need them tonight.

  Mrs. Meriwether darted toward Dr. Wilson. In the confusion, she thought nobody was paying attention, but I craned my ears to catch every word. “I thought we were safe. You made enough of that spray to treat the whole town.”

  His tired reply was unmistakable. “It doesn’t last forever, Agnes, and Timothy is gone. I can’t make more without him since the extract came from his reproductive glands.”

  “So we’re defenseless?” Her horror was palpable. “I killed all those people for nothing.”

  I bit out a curse. The chances were good that we had Freaks in the windmills, destroying them. They might not understand what purpose they served, but they hated all human technology. They’d wreck these machines for the same reason they’d dug up our crops—because they thought it would weaken us in some fashion. And in most cases, they were right.

  I didn’t wonder long. Stalker came at a run, winded, which meant he’d pushed himself. He gasped out, “Freaks. At least a hundred, coming in from the east.” As he caught his breath, he added, “I suspect they trailed the Lorraine traders. Not sure why the pheromones aren’t discouraging them.”

  “It washes away,” I said. “It’s not forever. And Dr. Wilson can’t make more.”

  “They won’t fight.” Fade was watching the townsfolk move in full retreat, preparing to cower inside their homes.

  But barred windows and doors wouldn’t deter a hundred intelligent Freaks. They’d use fire or some other strategy to take this town, and it wouldn’t even require the rest of the horde, unless we did something about it.

  “This will be a tough fight,” I said softly.

  Stalker nodded. “At night, against superior numbers? It’ll cost us.”

  “I know. But the alternative is to leave Winterville to its fate.” Under no circumstances could I give those orders. If the rest of Company D abandoned the town, I couldn’t go. It might be the practical decision—one a Huntress would make—but I couldn’t save these people from the feral humans, only to let them die.

  “Men!” I called.

  They surrounded me at full attention, row by row, and I recalled that was the style in Soldier’s Pond. I didn’t usually require it, but the occasion merited formality, I supposed.

  I had no fancy words, but I gave them what I knew. “It’ll be a rough night, our first big battle of the season ahead. Who wants to kill some Muties?”

  “Company D,” they called back.

  Not a single voice remained silent; they all shouted their intentions to the skies. If they died tonight, they’d go out as Hunters, one and all.

  I squared my shoulders. “Then we need a plan.”

  Fade turned in a slow circle, assessing the houses and the open terrain of the town square. “I think we can win. But we need to draw them here.”

  “Count on my scouts for that,” Stalker said.

  I thought I understood Fade’s plan. “Spence and Tully, I need you on those rooftops. I want constant fire from you until you run out of ammunition.”

  “You’re them,” one of the Lorraine traders said in wonder. “Company D.”

  I hadn’t noticed their approach, but it made sense they’d be here since they didn’t have houses to hide in, and the wagons offered limited cover. The lead driver wore a rifle on his back as Longshot had, and I wondered if he was any good with it. He seemed to read my thought—or maybe my look—because he drew it and held it like a man who knew which way to point it.

  “We are,” I acknowledged. “But I don’t have time for introductions at the moment.”

  I expected some disparaging remarks about my gender or my age, but to my surprise, the rifleman said, “Put us on a rooftop. We’ll fight with you.”

  A boy crept out of the shadows then, hardly more than a brat. He was dirty and thin, eyes too big for his face. He reminded me so much of the white-eyed brat from down below that my stomach cramped. A weapon too big for him to lift came behind him, leaving trails in the dirt.

  “I can shoot,” he said.

  I saw the words forming on a trader’s lips, You can’t even lift that thing, son, so I cut him off. “How?”

  “I can brace it. My dad taught me … before he died.” There was a wealth of sorrow and anger in those words.

  “Where’s your mum?” Fade asked.

  The brat lifted his chin. “Gone. You poured dirt on them both earlier today.”

  Guilt flickered through me; I hadn’t even noticed him among the other mourners. Above the boy’s head, Fad
e caught my eyes, and I nodded. We’d take this chance to do the right thing.

  “Go with the traders. I want you posted over there.” I indicated the tower where Fade had rung the bell. “Spence and Tully on the other side.” That structure wasn’t quite as tall, but it had a nice perch on the roof. “Barricade the door if you can, so they can’t get at you. The rest, stay with me. Remember our drills.” I planted the banner Momma had made in the ground, then told my men grimly, “Guard the flag with your lives. Don’t let them inside our line.”

  “You heard the woman,” the lead driver snapped. “Move.”

  Woman. That word felt as precious as my naming day; and maybe it was the first time Topside that anyone had looked at me and seen more than a silly girl. That man couldn’t see my scars and he didn’t know my story. He only knew what my actions told him, and apparently they said I was grown. But I had no time to savor the sensation.

  Stalker’s scouts came at a run with what seemed like a thousand Freaks charging behind them. I shuddered, remembering my mad flight with Fade through the horde. It had to be worse for him, but he was steady as a rock at my side. All around us, Company D readied their weapons. I drew my knives five seconds before the Freaks hit us like a hammer—and we stood our ground, shoulder to shoulder, as lead slammed into the monsters from above.

  Bodies jerked and fell all around me. I stabbed and slashed, my usual style forestalled by the need to protect Fade on my left and Sands, who had staggered in on my right. Tegan fought between Stalker and Morrow, her staff knocking them down for other soldiers to finish. She didn’t like to kill, but the girl had gotten deadly about defending herself. I held formation and turned my attention back to the next Freak charging toward me.

  It snapped yellow fangs in visible threat. “Our land. Not yours.”

  “You’ll have to take it,” I growled, just before I plunged my dagger into its chest.

  Fade knocked one away from me and cut its throat. He too was all efficiency, keeping them off me as well as the soldier on his other side. We fought as a unit, not as separate Hunters, and it felt good when the enemy fell in droves around us. The night air chilled my skin but sweat warmed it up again. I sliced like the threshing blade we’d used in the fields. The Freaks were ferocious, but they couldn’t fathom the way we wouldn’t yield, not even a single step. They couldn’t surround us, couldn’t use their usual tactics. These creatures fought like pack animals, three or four on one victim, who usually went down to the overwhelming blood loss, not due to any particular skill. They were less organized than the ones who offered us the truce near Soldier’s Pond … and that made me think these were associated with the horde, possibly a vanguard. I risked a kick, though it pulled me forward a few steps, then someone from the church tower shot the thing, and Fade pulled me back.

  “Careful,” he scolded.

  “Sorry.”

  A cry of pain from one of my men drew my eye. In the dark, I couldn’t tell who it was, but the man dropped, and we tightened the formation. Freaks tested our defenses from all sides, but we didn’t let them pass. They received bolts in the back, bullets in the side, and our knives everywhere else. Morrow was a lean shadow, dancing death with his slender blade. Now and then I caught Tegan watching him, and that made me smile, even as I blocked another lunge. The town square was a seething, snarling mess with bodies everywhere.

  “Back up,” I called.

  The fight blurred into a mass of claws and fangs, cries of pain. I fought until my arms ached, until one more swing of the dagger might make my arms fall off. The rifles popped until they ran out of ammunition on the rooftops, and then we had Spence and Tully, and the traders on the ground with us. Around that time, the Freaks realized they were losing, so they ran. We gave chase, but a handful of them escaped in the darkness, dodging around the buildings. I hoped they would carry word that this town was well defended, but I feared they were going after greater numbers for the next onslaught. I panted, hunched over with my hands on my knees. Then I took stock. Eight men down. Mouthing their names, I closed their eyes myself.

  “We did it,” Tegan said.

  Considering what we’d achieved, Silk would call this a win. I disagreed. Though we’d driven the beasts off, it didn’t feel like a complete victory. The traders had taken some damage too. One hurt, another dead, and the leader looked stone tired.

  “That was quite a fight. John Kelley might’ve exaggerated when he called you an army, but he didn’t make up anything about your skill.” He turned along with everyone else as the brat came down from the tower, dragging his father’s gun. “You did good too, son. Saw three of them Muties go down under your fire.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked the boy.

  “Gavin,” he said.

  From what he’d said, he had nobody left. If he did, they likely wouldn’t allow him to be here, fighting for a town that wouldn’t defend itself. “How would you like to join Company D?”

  Bright as the moon overhead, the kid’s smile almost made up for all the men I’d lost.

  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.