Horde (Razorland #3)(45)

“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.

“Thanks for the company,” I said, rising. “I’ll be in touch in a few days, once I see how many men are coming from Winterville.”

“Not many, I expect. It’s why Dr. Wilson was working on a peaceful solution to the Mutie problem.”

I wondered how he knew about the pheromones or if he knew anything at all. Morrow might be testing me to see what he could learn for his blasted stories. While I needed his blade, I didn’t fully trust him or his motives; he had his own reasons for joining me. Still, it was better to have men who could think for themselves instead of those who followed blindly.

Three days later, four men arrived from Winterville. They were exhausted and two of them were wounded from a skirmish with the Freaks. Tegan treated their wounds, which weren’t serious. They were all angry when they realized the message hadn’t come from the colonel, but they’d all lost their families to the madness Dr. Wilson created when he sprayed the town. So they had nothing to go home for and a strong reason to fight.

The next day, as we assembled in the training yard, I did a head count. Four from Soldier’s Pond. Four men from Winterville. When Tegan presented herself without a word, angry eyes daring me to protest, that gave us four from the ruins of Gotham. That made twelve—such a small number to set out toward such a big goal. My family came out to watch us go. There was no fanfare; the soldiers never paused in their work or their drills. They probably figured we were going to die.

It was up to us to prove them wrong.

Otterburn

I had never been in charge of anything before.

So when Stalker stepped in and interrogated all the new men from Winterville, then claimed two of them for the scouts, I let it happen, partly because we needed skilled sentries, and partly because I felt guilty that I didn’t care about him the way he wanted. That was an illogical reaction and I had to banish it. But it would help the rest of the squad, small as it was, to have good intel. The scouts would still fight when it came down to it. Before we left, I had checked the maps and memorized the route to Otterburn. It wasn’t far from Soldier’s Pond, only a day up the river via hard march. Wagons would take much longer. I didn’t anticipate trouble, but it was best to be prepared.

“Stalker, would you mind—”

“We’ll scout,” he said.

His team hurried off to check the path ahead. I understood why he didn’t let me finish. He was making it clear this mission resulted from his choice, not because I asked.

I turned to the rest. “Let’s go. We’ll make Otterburn by nightfall if we push.”

Tegan fell into step, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

“You were mad. I understand why.”

“I figured you’d stop me.”

“I scared you and hurt your feelings. That deserved a smack in the face.” I smiled at her, wincing a little at the way it pulled my sore nose. “I’m just glad you came with us anyway. We’ll need a medic something fierce before this is through.”


“I don’t just want to patch you up,” she said. “I want to be able to defend myself. I don’t want always to be the weakest one in the group.”

I nodded. “We’ll figure out what weapon works best for you and go from there.”

Tegan didn’t hug me around the shoulders because we were soldiers now, but I could tell she wanted to. “Thanks, Deuce.”

The scouts found us a clear path to Otterburn, but there were Freaks sniffing all along the river. It bothered me that I could no longer smell them as strongly, only a whisper of corruption carried on the wind. Things were changing faster than I could keep up. Part of me doubted my ability to complete this task I’d set for myself.

A smaller voice was saying, Just find a safe place to hide. You can’t save these towns, and you’re crazy for considering it.

Then the Huntress squeezed out the cowardice, reminded me I’d rather die fighting, like Thornton said. If that was the case, well, at least like Longshot, I’d make my death mean something. Living down below, I wouldn’t have had that many years left anyway. So I’d make them count Topside; the Huntress who would always be a part of me, as much as my scars, wouldn’t let me do less.

The sun was sinking below the horizon when we arrived at the edge of town, long orange and pink streaks staining the sky. Otterburn was more like Salvation than other settlements I’d seen. The buildings were rough-hewn, but there were no walls here, no whitewash either. The wood was weathered, but it wasn’t like Winterville. There were people in the mud lanes, going about their business. Yet this was a small settlement without visible means of protection. The proximity to Soldier’s Pond meant they might receive aid in times of trouble, but I wouldn’t care to rely on a neighbor’s goodwill. I counted thirty buildings, total, twenty-five of which looked like people lived in them. The others were probably for tradecraft. Given the apparent lack of precautions, I had no idea how they hadn’t been wiped off the map.