Outpost (17 page)

I hurried over to her. “How does Doc feel about you volunteering to help with the harvest?”

“He required some persuasion with all the problems we’ve had this season, but they were short on willing hands, and I know what I’m doing.”

“I’ll watch your back,” I promised.

Tegan nodded. “I know … or I wouldn’t be here.”

Longshot hollered for the guards to fall in so I waved as I went back to formation. There was no fanfare as the gates opened. None of the townsfolk came to wish us well as we went out to protect the fields. It was just as well; it would have made leaving harder for those who were, at best, reluctant.

“Stick close to the wagons,” Longshot ordered. “I want guards posted on either side, and keep a sharp eye on the tree line.”

“Yes, sir,” I murmured, along with nineteen others.

I sniffed the morning air, seeking any sign that all wasn’t as it should be. Only the scent of green grass broken underfoot reached me, chased with faint animal musk, and the sweetness of white flowers, unfurling in the distance. I found constant beauty in this new world; it had not yet become familiar to me, and I marveled that natives could find so little to enchant the eye.

Likewise, the birds assured me things were safe for now. Flashes of color fluttered in the green, aerial maze. This morning they chirped and whirred and churred their morning songs, undisturbed in distant boughs. Yet the peace was unnerving, for we had trod this path before, and we
knew
that danger lurked within the twisted tangle of branches. For a Huntress, waiting could be infinitely worse than fighting. I fingered my knives as we grew closer to the first field, ruined with runnels of Freak claws. Only dead plants remained, so dry and brown that it hurt to look at them. They’d represented the hope for the town’s survival.

We’ll do better this time. Longshot has a plan.

Shortly, he proved me correct in my assessment. He barked instructions to the growers riding in the wagons, telling them to get down and get to work. Tegan shouldered a bucket, which had a long strap attached, and her partner—an older man who seemed protective—carried jugs of water. She would put the seeds in the ground while the man covered and watered them.

I paid close attention to them as they worked the fields, but I had to watch all the growers. The rest of our cohort stood guard with me, watching in all directions. I could tell many of them were frightened by the way they clutched their weapons.

Frank Wilson, the guard I’d fought to earn my place, came over to stand with us. He looked about twenty, though he might be older, based on how people aged Topside. His brown hair needed cutting, and a beakish nose dominated his narrow face. To his credit, Frank wasn’t rigid with dread like the rest. I didn’t know if that meant he was brave or foolish. Some Hunters were both in equal measure, but Silk once told me that only an idiot feared nothing. Smart Hunters knew when situations were dangerous, and made the choice to risk their lives for the good of the enclave.

“Can’t believe we’ll be outside all summer,” Frank said, shaking his head.

Stalker eyed him with dislike. “
We
spent the whole winter outside.”

Technically, we spent it in a little house, but Frank seemed so impressed with our survival skills that I lacked the heart to disillusion him. Fade was watching the tree line, as Longshot had said, seeming to pay the exchange little mind. Just looking at him filled me with warmth, but I didn’t let the feeling distract me.

“I heard about that,” Frank said. “Did you really come from Gotham?”

If I had a new knife for every time we’d been asked that, I wouldn’t be able to carry them all. I let Stalker field the question.

“It’s true,” he answered.

“What was it like? Were there horseless wagons and flying carriages?” Right then, Frank seemed younger than I’d initially thought.

“Of course,” Stalker said, playing with him. “There were also fountains with all the cider you could drink and shining towers of pure silver.”

Frank colored. “Sorry.”

I took pity on him. “It’s all in ruins.”

Still, he wasn’t discouraged, and I guessed he hoped to bond with us because everyone else on the squad was at least ten years older. Most of them had families of their own and stood in knots with their weapons loosely held while complaining bitterly about drawing this duty. Since Frank wasn’t like that, maybe he did belong with us, more than with the others, anyway. I’d promised to show him some moves; maybe there would be time for that later.

Trying again to make conversation, Frank said, “Who could’ve imagine the Muties being smart enough to hit our food supply?”

He reminded me of Twist, who nobody had liked down below. Twist had been a small, weak male in the enclave, who served as the headman’s second in command. Though he’d lacked a certain charisma, he’d also turned out to be our greatest ally, so I didn’t think it wise to alienate Frank. We might need him.

“They’re different,” I said thoughtfully. “There might be two types, the mindless kind, and these new ones, who seem to think and plan.”

That was only speculation, of course. I remembered how Fade had said we needed to study them to figure out why they were changing. That didn’t seem a likely avenue for answers, however. I imagined what Elder Bigwater would say, confronted with such a crazy, dangerous scheme.

Stalker shaded his eyes, gazing with silent frustration out toward the trees. “If that’s true, then we’re doomed.”

That dried up the talk until we moved. The day went slowly, mostly standing at attention, surveying the landscape for danger signs. At noon, we ate a cold lunch of bread and dry meat. Hopefully meals would improve once we finished the initial planting and decided where to set the outpost. Tegan ate with us, her bad leg stretched out before her.

“Are you hurting?” I regarded her with a half-frown.

Her brown eyes darkened with outrage. “Did you ask anyone
else
that?”

“No, but—”

“Leave her alone,” Stalker said, surprising me. “She’s tough. She’ll be fine.”

I eyed him in astonishment, but he’d already turned away to tell Frank about how we’d gone a whole week without eating anything but fish. Sadly, the story was true; if I never saw a fish again, that would be just fine. Tegan watched him, her expression perplexed but grateful. I could tell she didn’t understand Stalker at all.

“I know you mean well,” she whispered as she rose, “but I don’t need to be coddled. I know exactly what I can handle.”

“Sorry. I won’t do it again.”

She nodded to show we were fine, and then she rejoined her partner to continue planting. By late afternoon, the growers finished. The seeds didn’t need special care this early, but they did require someone to watch them and be sure Freaks didn’t come in the night to rip them out of the ground. We returned to Salvation in near-silence, but as we approached the gates, a guard muttered:

“This is ridiculous. We haven’t seen or heard a peep from the Muties today. We ought to be sleeping warm in our beds tonight.”

“Odell Ellis, I recognize your voice,” Longshot barked without turning. “If you wanna explain to Elder Bigwater what you’re doing when you abandon your post, go right on inside with the growers. But if you do, I feel pert near sure that he’s not gonna be amenable to you eating our food, come winter. But that’s your call.”

“I know my duty,” Odell muttered.

“Then quit your bellyachin’.” Longshot raised his voice, calling to the guards on the wall. “Open up quick, just long enough for the wagons. It’s clear.”

“Take care,” Tegan called as she went. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

In the falling light, I raised a hand in farewell and saw Stalker and Fade do the same on either side of me. All told, it only took a few minutes to get the civilians to safety. I felt more combat ready at once. Longshot signaled, and we moved out, back toward the fields. It had been a long day, where inaction grated heavy. By that point, I was a taut-drawn wire, waiting for pressure to make me snap.

But guard work wasn’t all excitement and action. I’d known that coming in.

Longshot chose an excellent site on a low rise that permitted a sweeping view across the newly planted fields. The wind carried a loamy scent, that of fresh-turned earth. From this position, we’d see if anything went awry, and the incline offered an advantage to the riflemen. With any luck, they’d drop a vast number of incoming Freaks, and our close-combat crew would devastate the rest.

“In the morning, we’ll fell some timber for a proper watchtower. For tonight, let’s build a fire and a simple camp. Who knows how to make soup on the trail?”

Fade raised his hand. “We’ve done it more than once. Where’s the pot?”

I fell in to help him, and Stalker built the fire. This was almost like old times, if I ignored Tegan’s departure, and sixteen strange men grumbling about being forced to sleep on the hard ground when we’d clearly eliminated the Mutie threat.

I wasn’t so sure.

Their behavior indicated they were capable of devious planning that, when taken in combination with their strength and terrifying numbers, presented a daunting challenge. Fortunately, Fade and I had survived worse. At least, here, we had men to fight with us; and Salvation remained nearby if the field situation became untenable.

Those thoughts occupied me as we prepared supper. Fade filled the pot half full of water from the canisters we’d brought from town and I sliced vegetables and then added dried meat. Longshot offered various pouches of spices; I examined them with a sniff before deciding which ones to add to the soup.

One of the guards elbowed another and muttered, “So
that’s
why we brought her. At least she can cook.”

A third snorted. “Bet that’s not all she’s good for.”

Fade froze. Before I could tell him to ignore it, he had his knife against the man’s throat. “If I hear another word like that out of you, we’ll be one man short before we see a single Freak.”

“Stand down, son.” Longshot put a cautioning hand on his shoulder, and after several deep breaths, Fade stepped back, his blade dropping to his side. “I’ll handle it. She’s your girl, I know, but these are
my
men.”

The man he’d threatened showed equal measures of fear and fury, but Longshot gripped his arm, and dragged him to one side. Whatever he said, it was too low for me to hear, but when the man came back—Gary, I believed his name was—he couldn’t meet my eyes as he tendered the apology. I just shrugged. There had been Hunters down below who were quick with a Breeder joke. If I let them get to me, then I was as soft as they said, and I didn’t fear any human male. While they might be stronger, they wouldn’t be smarter or faster.

“That goes for all of you. This girl fights as well as any man here, and better than some, so I won’t hear any more of that. Is it clear?”

The rest mumbled an assent. Dinner was a muted meal, but gradually, the guards forgot the incident as their bellies warmed and they appreciated the sparkle of the bright stars overhead. With hot soup, a cozy bedroll, and a clear sky, things could definitely be worse.

After cleaning up, I sank down beside Fade and laced our fingers together. “You can’t threaten to kill everyone who bad-mouths me.”

“Why not?” he muttered.

“Mostly? Because they’ll start seeing me as your weak spot and they’ll use me to get at you. It doesn’t matter to me what they think of me. Only what you do.”

He leaned in and whispered, “I wish I could kiss you.”

“Save them up. I’ll take them all at once when you can.”

In reply, he brushed his hand over my hair. Shortly thereafter, Stalker and Frank joined us. The conversation grew more general, speculation on what the summer held and anticipation of how hard we’d have to work in the woods tomorrow.

Eventually, we rolled into our blankets as true night fell.

No nightmares came that night, but they would begin in reality soon enough.

Creep

The night passed in shifts, and there were enough guards that I wasn’t chosen to stand watch. It would be my turn the following day. Leftover soup and stale bread made up our breakfast. During our travels, Fade and I had discovered, quite by accident, that soup left to cook indefinitely on the fire became thick and hearty, and the constant heat reduced the chance of spoilage.

Living rough as we were, it made sense to use the knowledge we’d gained traveling north. I ladled out the food, the jut of my chin daring anyone to make a comment about my gender and the reason I was serving. After the meal, Longshot drew lots to see which half of our group went to the woods to saw the timbers for the watchtower. Fade and I drew short straws, but Stalker and Frank did not. The other eight men were older, and I knew them only by reputation. None seemed happy with the situation, and I suspected they were remembering the number of Freaks that had poured out of the forest recently.

On some level, I shared their doubt and fear; it seemed impossible to expect so few to act on behalf of the whole town—and yet the majority of Salvation couldn’t survive out here. Offering the Freaks free food in the form of helpless females and brats served no purpose. So we had to make this work.

One of the guards fell in step with me on the way. He was a short, stocky man with shoulders that seemed broader than he was tall. Iron-gray hair marked him as at least as old as Longshot, but he wore his face clean-shaven. I wondered how long that would last out here.

“Hobbs,” he said. We shook hands as we walked, as that was how one greeted another politely, Topside. “Jeremiah. But everyone calls me Hobbs.”

“Deuce.”

I didn’t have a surname; there had been no need down below. There weren’t enough of us for there to be a shortage of names, which came from our naming-day gifts. The Wordkeeper had told us from our earliest brat-hood that our names meant something special, and that whatever object our blood chose was sacred. That was probably more rubbish he’d made up, but I kept my card safe just in case. I’d shown it to Edmund during my first week here and he said it was a two of spades, an ancient playing card, liberally speckled with my blood. This object contained my essence, and they’d taught us in the enclave that something terrible would happen to us if we didn’t safeguard it.