Horde (Enclave Series) (17 page)

I pushed out a breath and raised my voice to carry. “Some of you don’t know me. I’ll keep my story short. I come from the underground tribes, a place so dark that you can’t even imagine. I had never seen sunlight until I was fifteen. But I came to the surface and I survived when everybody told me it was impossible.”

A rumble greeted those words; plainly they doubted me. I ignored it and carried on. “I found people who wanted to kill me in the ruins of Gotham. Girls didn’t fight in the gangs … but I did. And I survived. I made a friend out of one of those savages and brought him with me.”

Stalker met my eyes and jerked a nod, his scars in sharp relief compared with the smooth faces around him. I took courage from his anger. This time I wasn’t sure if it was for me.

“We only had stories of safety to the north. It should’ve been impossible for us to find help in such a vast wilderness. There were Muties everywhere, and we had no maps. Yet we did. Longshot guided us to Salvation, and they took us in. I fought for them with my last breath, but it wasn’t enough. They sent me to fetch aid, and I was too late, too slow. That haunts me.”

I had no fancy words to persuade them, only the truth of my life. So I dug into my pocket and produced my bloodstained playing card. “I’m called Deuce, and I take my name from the two of spades. I’m telling you now, from the things I’ve survived and the places I’ve been, that there is no such thing as impossible. According to everyone else, I shouldn’t be here. But I am.”

The yard was deathly quiet, and the soldiers had lost their irritation. In some faces I read incredulity and amusement. Others were merely listening. One man tapped his foot.

I gathered the last of my nerve and concluded, “It’s only a sure defeat when you stop trying. We need an army who fights for the whole world, not one town, and I mean to raise it. Your colonel has given me her blessing to recruit from your number. If you join up, from this point, your loyalty will be to this cause only. Step forward, brave souls. It’s time to do the impossible once again.”

two

onus

He saw that the creature was a tremendous wolf, rushing straight at him.

—George MacDonald,
The Day Boy and the Night Girl

Absurd

When my speech ended, I hoped for a massive outpouring of support. I gave them everything I knew to be true, and in return, most didn’t even take the time to laugh at me. They went back to their duties and their old routines. Feeling like a fool, I hopped down from the platform, my stomach a knot of embarrassment and shame.

One soldier said, “This is absurd. I can’t believe the colonel thought this was worth our time. That girl can’t even defend herself from a punch in the nose.”

Humiliation cascaded through me. My story meant nothing to them. They probably didn’t believe me, and that was a fresh pain. Nobody had mistaken me for a liar before.

Once the training yard cleared, a few people lingered. I eyed them with caution, wondering if they meant to pick a fight. But as I stepped closer, I recognized them: Morrow, Spence, Tully, and Thornton.
Every army has a beginning, no matter how humble.
Wary, I picked a path across to them.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“We’re in,” Tully said, speaking, I presumed, for all of them.

“Why?”

Thornton wore a grim look. “I’m an old man, and I have no family left. I’d rather go out fighting Muties than from some ailment nobody can figure out how to cure.”

“We like to live dangerously.” Spence exchanged a look with Tully that I didn’t know how to interpret. But it didn’t really matter why they were joining up, only that they could fight, and I’d seen them in action.

“And you?” I asked Morrow.

“At heart I’m a teller of tales,” he said. “And this looks like it might be a good one.”

That could be entertaining in the field, and I already knew he was good in tough situations. So I inclined my head. “I’m waiting on word from Winterville. We’ll give them time to make the journey, then head out. So you’ll want to rest up.”

“Yes, sir,” Tully said, and she didn’t seem to be sarcastic about it, either.

“I’ll send word the night before we march. That’s all.”

It seemed odd to be giving orders to people who were all older than I was, but I figured I’d get used to it. With Fade at my side, I went across the yard to talk to Edmund and Momma Oaks. I could see in her eyes that she was scared for me, but her mouth was smiling. That looked like love to me, when you put a brave face on your heart breaking because it was what the other person needed.

“There are other towns,” Edmund said bracingly.

Momma Oaks nodded. “These men just don’t have enough imagination to grasp what you’re trying to do. They’ve been following orders too long. It will be different elsewhere.”

In my heart I wasn’t too sure of that but I appreciated their support. “There might be some men coming from Winterville.”

“What was that like?” Edmund asked, fascinated.

He seemed almost as interested in my stories as I had been in his, early on. As we walked, Fade and I took turns explaining what we’d seen and learned. Both Edmund and Momma Oaks marveled over the electric lights and windmills and Freaks being kept in cages. Tegan and Stalker accompanied us, listening to the account.

Stalker stopped me outside the Oakses’ house. I hoped this was about repairing our friendship, but judging from his expression, it probably wasn’t. This square structure without a hearth for cooking made me sad. Momma Oaks would never be happy in Soldier’s Pond; they’d taken away her life’s work, much as Salvation had done to me, but at least she was safe.

“Go on inside,” I said to Fade and my folks.

They did, after Fade gave me a meaningful look.

“I hear recruitment didn’t go as well as you hoped. My opinion, you went too soft. You appealed to their better natures. You should’ve called them cowards lacking the spine to take the fight to the Freaks. That would’ve motivated more of them.”

I folded my arms. “If you just came to mock me, I’m not interested.”

He shook his head. “That’s not why I’m here. It’s only advice for next time.”

“Then what do you want?”

“There will be no gentle words between us. No more of me begging for a scrap of your affection.”

“I never asked you to,” I protested.

“Fair enough. This is what I propose—and you should be aware I have another offer on the table. You give me command of the scouts and accept that I’m not answerable to you. I lead my own men. I’ll fight with your group, but we’re free to come and go, pick our own battles.”

“If I don’t agree?”

“Then I’m staying in Soldier’s Pond. I don’t expect you care. But they appreciate my skills. I won’t be in charge of the scouts, but I can work my way up. And it’ll get me away from you.” He said it like distance was a necessary cure for a disease against which he’d been fighting a losing battle.

“Maybe it will be better if you do stay here. I don’t want to hurt you, Stalker. I never wanted that. Except when you first took us. Then I intended to kill you.”

A reluctant laugh escaped him. “And I intended for you to lead the Wolves alongside me. I figured you’d see the advantages soon enough.”

“No,” I said gently. “I’d have died fighting you. I don’t have it in me to bend. For me, it’s always been Fade. It always will be.”

He nodded, his eyes cold. “I understand that. And I can live with it. Do we have a deal?”

Part of me didn’t think it was a good idea to take him along, but he was an excellent scout. Only the fact that he wanted to lead his own men had driven him to offer this agreement. He had been in power in the Wolves, and he didn’t much like following orders, which he’d have to do if he stayed in Soldier’s Pond and formally joined their ranks. While the scouts might have more freedom, there was still a chain of command, and Stalker wanted to be at the top.

“Right now, there’s nobody for you to lead, but I accept.”

He nodded. “That’s enough. I’ve seen what you can accomplish.”

That sounded an awful lot like a vote of confidence. Before I could thank him for it, he turned and strode away. In time, I hoped he would get over his hurt feelings. I missed training with him. Fade stepped out of the house when I approached the door.

“What was that about?” But his tone wasn’t sharp or fearful; and that, too, was a relief. I didn’t need to deal with jealousy on top of everything else.

Quickly I summarized the offer Stalker had made.

“He’ll do well with that, provided we can find him some scouts.”

I sighed. “That’s far from sure, at this point.”

“At least you’re taking action. Every big thing starts small.”

Maybe I was just tired, but that seemed profound. Fade took a breath, then framed my face in his hands, contact initiated wholly by him. I gazed up at him, enjoying the warmth of his palms against my cheeks. Then he brushed a kiss against my brow, amusement in his dark eyes.

“Tegan got you good.”

“She did.” I ducked my head. “But I had it coming.”

He kissed my temple next, and I closed my eyes with a shiver of pleasure. “Thanks, Deuce.”

“What for?”

“Being patient. I don’t know why, but it’s better and easier when I’m in control. When you just let me—I don’t know.” Fade’s hand curled into a fist because he was obviously frustrated at not being able to explain. “It’s just better.”

“That’s all I care about. If it means I have to wait for you to hold my hand or to kiss me, that’s fine. I fully believe there will come a time when you don’t even think about it anymore.”

“It might be a while,” he warned me.

I smiled. “Then I’ll just have to depend on your urge to touch me.”

“You
can
count on that.” His dark eyes held a hungry light, like he wanted to eat me up. I rather wanted to let him.

That night, we all slept in the same room, the small barrack house my folks had been assigned. Edmund snored a little; so did Rex. At some point, Fade climbed down from his bunk and into mine. Since he was warm, I didn’t protest … and since he
wanted
to be close to me, I took it as a personal victory. His arms went around me, so natural that I drifted back to sleep at once. When I woke, he was gone, probably down at the workshop with the other two men.

Momma Oaks was listlessly sweeping the floor, which didn’t need it, when I rolled out of my bed and bundled up some clean clothes, intending to head to the washhouse. Impulsively, I went over and hugged her. She squeezed me back, patting my shoulders as if I were the one who needed comfort. And maybe I did. Yesterday sure hadn’t gone as I’d hoped.

“I’ll find us a better place,” I promised her. “Just hold on, and when the war’s over, I’ll look for a town that will suit us all better.”

She smiled. “It’d be impossible to have a better daughter or for me to love you more.”

Stepping back, I took her hands in mine, feeling so many things that I just didn’t even have the words for them. “I’m sorry about Salvation. I wish I could’ve done more, if I had stopped that Freak who stole the fire—”

“Oh, honey, no. Put that burden down. It’s not yours to carry. The Lord sends trials as he sees fit. In my heart, I thought you could try harder to fit in Salvation. I love you but I didn’t always understand. Perhaps this is His way of making me see.”

“You think he took away your home in order to teach you something?” That sounded like a mean, petty thing to do for someone who supposedly had all the power.

“Could be. But speculating is pointless. His ways are beyond our understanding.”

Nodding, I stepped back and collected my things. I would have to rush to get cleaned up and make the breakfast service in the mess hall. I ran to the bathhouse, past the center of town, where a number of houses had been demolished, and that was where they planted their crops. In addition, there were gardens just inside the metal fencing. Soldier’s Pond made excellent use of the space they defended. It was efficient, certainly. There was also a pen full of livestock, but they used the meat sparingly from what I’d seen. I hurried through my shower and arrived as the last latecomers joined the line. I didn’t like this part of our new life; I preferred Salvation’s way of eating meals at home. Cooked in such quantities, the food was bland and savorless.

You won’t be eating it much longer.

Skimming the crowd, I saw no one I knew until Morrow beckoned me over. He was sitting alone with a sheaf of papers, his fingers ink-stained. As I approached, he nudged them aside, making room for my plate. I sat down on the bench opposite him.

“You weren’t kidding,” I said, surprised.

“When people stop writing down their stories, the soul of the world is lost.”

“So what was it like, growing up here? Did you have a choice about becoming a soldier?” I wasn’t clear how that worked.

“I’m not from here, and I’m not one, really. I come and go like the wind.” Though his tone was light, he definitely meant it.

“But the colonel sent you with us to Salvation, among her best men.”

“You saw my work with the foil. Would you not agree that I have skill?” I couldn’t argue that. He went on, “And she didn’t send me. I
chose
to go. Big difference.”

I raised a brow. “Because you thought it would make a good story?”

Morrow indicated the scattered papers. “What do you think I’m writing?”

I didn’t know how I felt about that. On some level it seemed disrespectful to make an entertainment out of what the folks of Salvation had suffered. But another part of me said it was good and fitting that they would be remembered. Mulling the two conflicting thoughts, I downed the rest of my food without much enjoyment.