Horde (Enclave Series) Page 21

  “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.”

  “I thought I wasn’t old enough to enlist,” I said.

  “And you haven’t. Elite squads aren’t subject to the same regulations.” By her smug smile, she was pleased at getting around the rules while still finding a use for my team.

  “With respect, sir, I decline your offer. I intend to take anyone who will join up, not just men from Soldier’s Pond.” I struggled with how to word my explanation. “Our cause still isn’t about defending towns … Company D is meant to end the Mutie threat. So while we’ll handle appeals for help if they come while we’re in town, I can’t guarantee we will be. The fight’s out there, and I intend to be too, as long as the weather holds. Right now, we don’t have the numbers to face the horde, but someday…” I trailed off, my meaning plain.

  This time, she didn’t laugh.

  “I understand.” Her eyes were sad, but her tone was brisk when she added, “You’ll need to brief your men and get moving. No telling how bad it is in Winterville.”

  “Yes, sir.” I didn’t salute her when I left, as the others did.

  Colonel Park wasn’t my leader. I shared information with her out of respect, not obligation. I’d meant it when I said she’d get nothing else out of me. I wasn’t a little black piece on her maps, willing to move against the red markers at her will.

  When I met the men, already assembled in the shed for afternoon training, I gave them the quick rundown. I finished with “Get your gear. We’re moving in an hour.”

  It didn’t take long to raid my footlocker and pack my things. I was lacing up my boots when Momma Oaks found me. She was carrying a bundle; I first thought she’d made some more clothes. Then she unfolded the fabric, and the shape marked it as wrong for a shirt or a gown.

  The material was plain, the first I’d seen since my arrival that hadn’t been dyed olive drab. She had cut it into a triangle and banded the edges in green. Square in the middle sat a stitched version of my personal token, a black spade with a two on top of it. The dark symbol looked powerful against the pale background, more so because she’d embroidered a red border. She had precious few supplies left from her seamstress work in Salvation, and I couldn’t believe she’d used them up to make such a thing for me.

  I also didn’t know what it was.

  “It’s a pennant,” she explained. “I read in a book where warriors used to fly their colors when they went to war, so all their enemies would see them and despair.”

  This … this was the truest love. She hated it every time I went out, but because she loved me, she supported me, even though it scared her. A fist tightened around my heart.

  “Thank you,” I said. “It’s wonderful. How am I supposed to display it?”

  “On a short pole, I think. I have Edmund working on it.”

  “We’re leaving soon,” I said, hating to disappoint her.

  “I know. He’ll be along shortly.” Momma Oaks paused. “Do you trust me, Deuce?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then let me have your token.”

  My hand went to the hidden pocket in my shirt reflexively. Over the course of my travels, the card had become more bloodstained, but I had never lost it. I fought the urge to ask why; instead I proved my faith by producing it and offering it to her without a word. My mother smiled as she got out her needle, then she sewed the card into the center of the banner.

  “Now it’s finished. This represents your fighting spirit and I truly believe as long as you keep it safe, you cannot fail.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes at how she had combined her greatest skill with my custom, one she probably didn’t even believe in. Shakily I hugged her and whispered, “Thank you.”

  She pushed out a long breath, then said, “Rex wants to go with you.”

  I froze. “How do you feel about that?”

  “When we first arrived, he was grieving over Ruth, and I was afraid he’d do something foolish. But now it’s been long enough…” I heard what she didn’t say. She wanted him to follow his heart, even if it was worrisome.

  “He hasn’t said anything to me or attended any of our drills. Tell him if he still wants to join up, it needs to be after he’s worked with us some.”

  “He’ll ask why you’ve accepted strangers over him, no questions asked.”

  “Because they’re trained soldiers and he’s not. It would be irresponsible to take him into action without first teaching him how to fight.”

  “That sounds fair.” She was visibly relieved that we weren’t both marching off today.

  I ended the discussion with a hug, but I couldn’t linger. It wouldn’t look good if I ordered the men to be ready in an hour and I showed up late. Lead by example, Silk always said—and though I didn’t agree with everything she’d shouted at me, that tenet stuck. Momma Oaks accompanied me to the gate, and as she’d promised, Edmund arrived soon after with a light metal rod. It wasn’t so long it would be unwieldy or so heavy it would be a problem to carry. In efficient motions, she stitched the pennant to the pole while I counted heads. Fade was here, Thornton and Tegan too … Zach Bigwater, Harry Carter, all the scouts, along with Morrow, Tully, and Spence. I’d memorized all the men’s names because they weren’t numbers to me. I ran down the roster mentally.

  “Everyone’s present,” I said. “Company D, move out.”

  It was a miserable march, though our official flag cheered the men up considerably. They took turns carrying it and eventually took to wagering over who got the privilege. I had nothing to do with that; they awarded it to one another for whimsical reasons: a good song, stealthy movements, a cheerful tale. Though I expected some of the new men to complain, as they weren’t used to life in the field, none of them whined. That was a good start.

  The ground was marshy from melting snow and frozen by turns, so I watched my step. Stalker and his scouts ran vanguard, finding us a good, safe route to Winterville. Since I didn’t know what we’d face once we arrived, it seemed best not to expend our energies more than necessary. There would definitely be fighting in town, and I hated the thought of killing humans. The handful of times I’d done so, I only enjoyed it once. Gary Miles, the Salvation soldier who thought girls were good for only one purpose, was no loss to the world.

  Despite the weather, we made good time.

  On the outskirts of Winterville, I waited while Stalker and his scouts surveyed the opposition. The rest of us were tense, listening for any sign that the afflicted were venturing past the Winterville boundaries. Now and again, I heard inhuman shrieks, wordless growls, awful but distinctive from any sound I ever heard the Freaks utter.

  “This is horrible,” Tegan whispered.

  I nodded. The scouting party didn’t return a moment too soon.

  Though the former Wolf was tough, even he was shaken when they returned. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Stalker said, still panting. “Every house is barricaded from the inside, windows and doors. And the town itself…”

  “Go on,” I prompted.

  “There are people everywhere, attacking anything that moves … eating each other.”

  Horror ran through me. Regardless whether the scientist, Wilson, had good intentions, he’d experimented without considering the consequences, and it now seemed that his work would end as badly as those that started all the trouble in the first place. If these people turn into Freaks … With some effort, I curtailed my urge to speculate and focused on the facts.

  “How many?” I asked Stalker.

  �
�Seventy-five to a hundred. That’s just an estimate.”

  “Are they working together?”

  Stalker shook his head. “No. If anything, they’re competing to get into the houses. It’s … grim, maybe the worst thing I’ve ever seen. You’ll understand when we move in.”

  Considering what he and I had been through, that was quite a statement. But I didn’t doubt him. Armed with this disturbing information, I went back to the others and gave the orders. “We’re splitting into four teams of eleven. I’ll assign squad leaders to each, and you’ll follow their instructions as if I had given them. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” they chorused.

  I went on, “We have a devil of a mess to tidy up. While it’s true we didn’t make it, the people trapped in those houses are counting on us. I have no idea whether what Wilson did to these poor madmen is contagious, so protect yourselves from their teeth.”

  Tegan bounced, which I took to mean she had something to add. “Blood can carry diseases, too, so be careful. Try not to get it in your eyes or mouths, and if you have any open wounds, make sure they’re covered before the battle begins.”

  “Anything else, Doc?” She flushed with pleasure when I called her that, but she shook her head. That was the extent of her warnings, apparently.

  “Excellent. Some of you may hesitate when it sinks in—that we’re fighting people. But remember, there’s no help for them. That’s the reason Wilson kept them penned up; he was trying to find a cure, but they’re broken beyond fixing, and it’s a kindness to put them down.” The words sounded hard and cold to my own ears, but the men were nodding. “Now then, team leaders: Stalker, Fade, me, Morrow.”

  The storyteller looked surprised to be called out, but he was smart, and he’d lead his men with the same care and wisdom he’d offered Tegan during their training sessions. To avoid any question of favoritism and for the sake of speed, men counted off by fours and then divided up accordingly. I ended up with Thornton and Spence, but not Tully, along with Tegan, three scouts, Zach Bigwater, and three fresh recruits. It was a good mix of skills with enough veterans that we should be able to compensate if Zach panicked under pressure.

  “Everyone knows who’s in their squads?” I asked.

  They agreed in unison that they did.

  “Good. Then, Stalker, you take the eastern section. I’ll go west. Fade, you have the north, and, Morrow, you’ve got the south, where the problem started. But from what Stalker said, there’s trouble all over Winterville now.”

  “I’m clear on the objective,” Stalker said.

  Morrow inclined his head. “Me too.”

  But Fade stepped close, gesturing to his men to wait a second. They were checking their weapons, talking in low voices about the fight to come.

  He leaned in with a furrowed brow. “Are you positive you want me in charge?”

  I understood that he thought he wasn’t the Hunter he had been, and he had doubts about his leadership. But Fade needed to stop treading in my shadow; he was every bit as fierce and strong as he had been, maybe more so. Blasted few people could survive an experience like his. Even less would be able to wade into battle afterward. He was one of the strongest, bravest people I’d ever known, and it was past time for him to acknowledge that.

  One step at a time.

  When I met his gaze, I didn’t do so as the girl who loved him or the Huntress partnered with him down below. My tone was firm and cool. “Are you questioning my judgment?”

  I read the shock in his gaze, quickly veiled by a thick sweep of lashes. Then he stepped back. “No, sir. I have my assignment.”

  I pitched my voice to carry. “When you clear your quadrant, head for the lab at the center of town. You can’t miss it.” I described the building, just in case. “Now let’s get this done.”

  Slaughterhouse

  If anything, Stalker understated the chaos and carnage.

  Winterville reeked of infection and death. The wind carried the stench from all corners, which told me nothing about where we’d find the afflicted ones. I stepped over a puddle of blood and scanned the area before I led my group west. Bloody palm prints stood out in sharp relief on the pale metal of the buildings. Zach Bigwater was an unknown quantity, but fortunately, I had veterans to compensate for his inexperience, and the rest of my team should be competent. My nerves drew taut as I listened. With a glance at Tegan, I confirmed that she heard it too.

  Forty paces on, we ran into the source of the noise. Ten feral humans surrounded a house, scrabbling at the barricaded windows, and their utter wrongness pierced me like a blade. As we approached, they turned—an uncontrollable impulse more than a decision—and ran at us with lips curled away from their teeth. I caught a glimpse of rabid eyes with starbursts of blood in the corners, normal human hands with nails untended until they were curled and yellow.

  Though I’d cautioned my people not to hesitate, I hated it when I drew my knives. These people didn’t deserve this; Wilson had done it to them—with the best of intentions—but still, their suffering could be laid at his door. When the first lunged at me, I saw that he was Edmund’s age. He might’ve been a farmer before, a normal man who loved his family and hated parsnips. Please, give me the strength to do what’s needed.

  With a rush of sorrow, I took him down, and that kill set the tone for everyone else. I glanced around for Tegan, but she was executing the staff maneuvers Morrow had taught her with complete precision. We all accounted for one except for Zach; he froze while the rest of us defended. Afterward, he hunched and lost his breakfast.

  “How can you?” he asked in a low whisper. “They were people.”

  Tears filled Tegan’s eyes. “I know. But it was a mercy. They couldn’t ever be who they were again. If they were in their right minds, it wouldn’t be necessary.”

  I checked all the bodies to make sure they were dead, taking care with their blood as Tegan had suggested. Thornton watched, then he etched what I’d learned was the sign of the cross. I’d seen Morgan do that as well; and he had explained it had spiritual significance when I asked. My family had religion, but they didn’t favor that gesture.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked him.

  “Lying there, they look so normal, almost like us,” the older man answered.

  “I know.”

  It was eerie. This was what it must’ve been like long ago, before everyone changed; I glimpsed the Freak genesis in these poor lunatics, and it chilled me to the bone. With care, I closed all the eyes, so they weren’t staring at the sky with eternal hunger. At last, satisfied they were all dead, I straightened, though part of me couldn’t help a primitive fear that these corpses would rise and shamble after us. Apparently the others felt the same because they backed off, and didn’t turn until we moved more than fifty paces away.

  I fell into step with Zach, keeping my tone low so the others couldn’t hear, though they might well guess what I was saying. “The next fight might be more challenging, and we can’t carry your weight. Don’t let me down.”

  He nodded, looking ashamed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

  I felt for him, this boy who had lost his whole family, and now had to learn to fight when that hadn’t been his role from the beginning, as it had mine. But in this world, people had to adapt, or they died. Cowardice would haunt him all his life, if he didn’t find the courage to raise a weapon and hold his ground. It wasn’t that I thought people who couldn’t fight were worthless; that judgment came from deep inside the kid. He needed to earn his own self-respect.

  The next group ran at us from around a corner. There were no telltale sounds, but in a blink, there were twenty on top of us. I should’ve smelled them, but the miasma hung over the whole town; the stink was horrendous, and they were near starvation. Some had gnawed their own flesh—or maybe they’d done it to each other—but the bites were infected and livid, sour milk flesh imprinted with savage red teeth marks.

  Our drills held up, though. The men fell into a ci
rcle as we had practiced, forcing the enemy to push through if they wanted to surround us. I expected Zach to falter again, but this time he brought his knives up and held the line. We were outnumbered, but these were creatures of madness and hunger, the way the old Freaks had been. They knew nothing of tactics or strategy, only of the need burning like fire in their blood. The fight became an intricate dance of death. When Tegan swung her staff to sweep the legs and knocked one down, Thornton finished it with an efficient blow from his hatchet.

  I worked with Zach, keeping them off him while he discovered his confidence. He might not be a natural warrior but he was determined, offering a block and feint to draw the snapping teeth. That opened the throat, and I cut it, then followed with a kick to avoid the spraying blood. Some spattered on my pants, but it couldn’t be helped. Spence worked as he usually did with knife, gun, and boot. I didn’t count how many I killed; I just fought until they all lay dead.

  “Injuries?” I asked. “Any bites?”

  There was a heavy, fraught silence while everyone scrutinized their fellows.

  “Me.” Danbury was one of the new men, recently recruited. He cradled his forearm, and as I stepped closer, I saw the purple bruise with a scarlet heart where teeth had broken the skin. The wound would heal, but I glimpsed raw fear in his eyes.

  “You can’t become a Freak through bites,” I said, though it was a hollow reassurance. “Maybe this isn’t catching the same way.”

  Tegan offered, “I told you to avoid the blood as a precaution. These people went mad after exposure to that potion Dr. Wilson created, not from biting each other.”

  “You should shoot me,” Danbury said. “Just in case.”

  I shook my head. “We’ll finish clearing the town, then I need to have words with Dr. Wilson. I’ll ask him if there’s any risk.”

  Danbury curled his hand into a fist. “If I go wrong, promise me you won’t let me turn into that.”

  I gazed down at the bodies. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.” The statement sounded tender when it was, in fact, a pledge to end his life.