Outpost (5 page)

“How did you know it would be so good?” I asked.

His smile slipped. “I had some with my dad, once.”

These days, Fade wasn’t around enough to share anything with me; an ache curled through me like a metal hook. There had to be some way to fix things between us. A question from Momma Oaks drew me before I could decide what to do about Fade. After dinner, I cleaned up while my foster parents talked quietly in the other room. Fractured words reached me in fits and starts.

“—maybe we should tell her. She feels left out,” Momma Oaks whispered.

“… no point. It doesn’t pertain to her.”

With determination, I closed my ears and stacked the clean dishes in the cupboard, then strode into the doorway. “May I take a light upstairs?”

“Do you have homework?” Edmund asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then by all means.” Momma Oaks got the lamp from the far table and offered it to me. “Careful. Don’t knock it over and don’t burn yourself.”

“We had torches,” I told her, in case she thought fire was new to me. If they protected their young like this all over in Salvation, it was a wonder the brats could find the schoolhouse on their own. “I’ll be fine.”

Edmund nodded. “Good night, Deuce.”

I ran up the stairs, the lamp casting crazy shadows along the walls. In my room, I buckled down and copied the passage that Mrs. James had assigned. Then I was supposed to write a page about what I’d just read. That took far longer, so I skipped to sums, which I found easier than reading. This was a useful skill, since it could be applied to inventorying supplies. That finished, I went back to my stupid essay and rambled about what the words meant. The teacher wouldn’t like it, and she’d probably read my paper aloud to point out all the mistakes.

I’d survived worse. The brats could mock me. Women could whisper. There would be bad memories, more nightmares, and the threat of Freaks outside the walls. I’d endure, no matter what.

Once I felt sure my foster parents were asleep, I dressed in dark clothes and slipped out the window. No bells tonight, but I needed to talk to Longshot. He’d be guarding the wall in his usual spot. I clung to the shadows, pausing twice to avoid detection, and then I clambered up the ladder. The moon shone on his white hair, so I recognized him straightaway. He cradled Old Girl in his arms; on my arrival, he didn’t shift from his study of the darkness.

“Don’t you ever sleep, girl?” His gruff tone concealed gentle humor.

“Sometimes,” I said.

“Aren’t you bored of plaguing me yet?” He leaned down to rub his knee in an absent way, as if he’d long since gotten used to the ache.

“I have some questions.”

“No end to ’em, apparently.”

“Don’t you have anybody at home to miss you?” That wasn’t what I meant to ask. It just slipped out. But he was always,
always
, on this wall, guarding Salvation.

“Not anymore,” he said quietly. “What is it you want, Deuce?”

I squared my shoulders. “I want to be included in the summer patrols. I’ll fight to prove myself in front of the other guards, but I wouldn’t embarrass you by bringing it up with no warning. If you’re dead set against it, I won’t—”

Longshot held up a hand to silence me. “It’s good of you to consider my pride, but if you win their respect, I’ll take you on. But you better put on a good show, girl.”

“I will,” I promised. “When should I make my request official?”

“We’ll be planting in a couple of weeks. Come then.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. This will ruffle feathers something fierce.”

“If you came up someplace where men cooked the food, and then you went somewhere else, and they wouldn’t let you fix supper, even though it was all you were good at, would you give up your skillet?”

He smiled at me and touched two fingers to his brow. “I reckon I would not.”

For a while we stood watch together in silence. This was my favorite part of the evening because, to Longshot, I wasn’t wrong or strange or in the way. With him it was all right to be a girl who didn’t fit.

“When do you usually go on the trade runs?” I asked eventually.

“In the fall, after the harvest comes in. I’m back ’fore the snow sets.”

I remembered how capable he seemed when he rescued us, loading everyone into his wagon along with the supplies. He’d never doubted, never hesitated. And he’d saved us all. If the opportunity arose, I’d pay him back someday.

“Do you need help?” I asked.

“Why, you interested in being my apprentice?”

“I might be.” A hot flush washed my cheeks as I waited for him to tell me why I wasn’t old enough or strong enough to do the job. Or worse, he’d say it was impossible because I was female.

But he surprised me. “It can be lonely, dangerous work, Deuce. Hang in there, get your education, and I’ll see what I can do when the time comes.”

I sighed. “It’s hard. You’re the only one who listens to what I have to say.”

Longshot dropped a gentle, comforting arm around my shoulders. “Then speak louder, girl. Don’t let them put out your spark.”

For a long time, I stood in the circle of his arm and counted the stars. I ran out of numbers before brightness, and that felt like a promise of better days to come.

Challenge

The next two weeks passed in a trickle of sameness. Mrs. James complained about my poor work at school; other brats found fresh meanness to inflict during lunch. Fade and Tegan continued their quest to make new friends. Some nights Stalker crept in my window, and we visited Longshot, then sparred in the secret house afterward. Other nights I went to the older man alone, and we talked about all kinds of things, including why he’d volunteered for the trade runs when they were so dangerous.

“At first,” Longshot had told me, “I went because Salvation needed me to be brave. Eventually, I continued because I enjoyed seeing the world … and finally, I kept at it because I didn’t have anybody to miss me if something went wrong.”

“I’d miss you,” I replied, and he ruffled my hair.

That was last night.

This afternoon, I was nervous.

There was no reason to be. Longshot had said I needed to prove myself, but that wasn’t the basis for my anxiety. I shuffled my feet outside the livery and listened to the animal noises within. I hadn’t visited Fade in weeks, not since the last time Mr. Jensen sent me away … but Fade hadn’t come to see me, either. And he knew where I lived. His intervention at school was the last time I’d been near him—and I missed our old closeness. Bringing Tegan and Stalker into the fold had enhanced our chances of survival, but it also changed everything.

But I couldn’t join the summer patrol without inviting him. Whether we talked or not, whether he spent all his time with Tegan, he was still my partner. At first, down below, that meant watching each other’s back and trusting he’d fight to save me. When we came Topside, the bond acquired more emotional depth, an attachment that made me crave his touch and his company. So I gathered my courage and went into the stables.

After school, Fade helped with the animals, and I found him running a brush along a creature’s back. It was bigger than the ones that Longshot used to pull his wagon, built along more graceful lines. The animal turned its head as I came in and whickered softly. It had pretty, long-lashed eyes and a shiny coat, probably due to Fade’s attention.

“Deuce,” he said.

The cool formality in his voice made something inside me curl up and whimper. If I had a title, like the teacher did, he’d be using it. And I didn’t understand why. I barely remembered coming into town, but he hadn’t been like this with me. No, the chill settled in later. There had been some occasional reserve on his part, of course, but not ice. Not permanent silence.

Unfortunately, I liked looking at him every bit as much as I ever had, which wasn’t fitting for a Huntress. Such instincts came from my Breeder side, weakness passed through my dam—which had caused me trouble with other Hunters down below. It was dreadful suffering such impulses when I needed to be brave and tough. I didn’t want to think about how nice it was when he put his arm around me, or how I’d fallen into his kisses with the same delight I took in a hot bath. At first, I was reluctant, but with care and patience, Fade taught me that not all contact had to be martial, and now I missed his mouth on mine.

“What are you doing?” That wasn’t the question I intended to ask.

“Currying this beauty.”

I gathered that meant using the brush, but I’d never heard Momma Oaks talk about currying anything, so it must apply only to animals. Sometimes I felt I’d never learn the things other people took for granted. Even Stalker, who fit here no better than I did, understood things instinctively about Topside.

“We’re going to talk to Longshot about summer patrols,” I said bluntly.

Fade arched a brow. “Who’s we?”

“Stalker and me. You too, if you’re interested.”

“Haven’t you seen enough fighting?” His tone made it seem like there was something wrong with me, like I should be glad to do nothing but attend school and sew with Momma Oaks.

“It’s what I was raised to do. It’s what I’m good at.” I squared my shoulders, determined not to let him make me feel bad, even if my behavior disappointed him.

His next words filled me with hope. “You’re still my partner. I won’t let you go out there without someone you trust.”

And I did trust him, no matter the problems between us. Some of my inner ice melted. “Come on then.”

“Just let me tell Mr. Jensen where I’m going.” Fade strode away through the stable, and a low argument rumbled between them. It didn’t last long.

“Do you like him?” I asked a few minutes later as he fell into step.

He shrugged, a moody twist to his beautiful mouth. “Not really. But he doesn’t try to be my dad.”

Quite unlike Momma Oaks, who’s determined to be my mother.

Fade didn’t protest when we stopped at the smithy for Stalker. Neither boy suggested we invite Tegan. She wasn’t a fighter when we made the trip, and it was ridiculous to imagine she’d want to get involved in the summer patrols. But I missed her. While
she
preferred the company of normal girls—she wanted to forget what she’d been through—there were no females that I considered friends in the same way. Yet sometimes being a friend meant letting people do things that hurt, like putting distance between you, just because it made them happy.

The town was laid out neatly within the protective walls. This site had been rebuilt three times, I remembered, one of the few history lessons that stuck with me. A real war had been fought nearby, and then the fort fell into ruins. They uncovered the site, some two hundred years ago, and rebuilt it as it was before. I didn’t understand the reasoning but Mrs. James claimed it had to do with respecting “our” cultural heritage. Since I was descended from those the world hadn’t cared to save, I suspected her pride didn’t apply to me.

We passed through the town in silence, lifting a hand now and then in greeting to those who recognized us. The women fell silent when they saw me coming, eyes avid for some new offense to report later. White-washed buildings showed neat and tidy in comparison with the ruins we’d traversed to find this place. I still didn’t understand the trade principles that governed Salvation, however. They used wood tokens to symbolize the value of goods and services. The boys and I had none, which meant we depended on our foster parents for every little thing. I hated it.

Single men who didn’t have homes of their own stayed in the barracks on the west side, near enough to the walls that they could post more guards if necessary. Since I’d been in Salvation, it hadn’t been; standard numbers had been sufficient to discourage Freak incursions. I should have felt better about that. Maybe I was just one of those people who couldn’t rest easy unless things went catastrophically wrong.

Whatever the reason, I couldn’t rid myself of this foreboding. The problems we’d seen from the changed Freaks would reach Salvation in time. It was only a matter of whether it was sooner or later.

Not surprisingly, Stalker and Fade didn’t speak; they shared a core of deep-seated animosity, but they both seemed determined to fight at my side this summer. Deep down, I understood I could only have one partner. Part of me didn’t wholly understand that. Why couldn’t I be friends with both? They each brought something different to the table, and their combat styles weren’t the same.

This isn’t about fighting
, a little voice said. But, unfortunately, it went away as fast as it came, and left me feeling foolish.

We found Longshot playing cards in the barracks; he had his sleeves rolled up, exposing weathered forearms. Even now I found his age marvelous and astonishing. With good food and fresh air, I might live that long too, provided the Freaks didn’t get me. Which made my forthcoming request even less comprehensible when you got right down to it, but I had been reared to protect others. I felt less than whole if I wasn’t living up to my own inner expectations. You could take the Huntress out of the enclave, but it didn’t lessen her need to fight.

“Kids,” he said with an inclination of his head.

That was what they called brats in Salvation. It was also the name for the offspring of the animals they kept for milk. That seemed more offensive to me than the word “brat,” but evidently not according to Topside sensibilities. They also didn’t like it when I called people Breeders, even when they had young.

I picked up Longshot’s cue. “I heard you need a team.”

Two bushy white brows went up; he played his role well, as if I hadn’t forewarned him two weeks ago. “Is that right?”

“They’ll be planting soon,” Stalker said. “And you’ll need people to protect the growers.”

“And then later, the fields,” I added.

Longshot tilted his head. “I’m aware of that.”

“We want to be on your team,” Fade clarified.

“All three of you?” The older man feigned skepticism as his gaze brushed over me in my long, full skirt. “Can you shoot?”

I shook my head. “But there are no walls out in the fields anyway. You’d have an advantage if you chose people experienced in hand-to-hand.”