Horde (Razorland #3)(51)

Excellent.

My spirits hit an all-time low as I found us a suitable campsite. Thanks to the rocky beach and the low hillside, I did manage to find a windbreak. The others set up their bedrolls while Tully and Spence built a fire. I put a pot on it and used our fresh supplies to set soup boiling. We each had shallow wooden bowls and spoons, but so far, we’d eaten mostly foraged fruits and nuts, along with meat roasted on the spit. This reminded me unpleasantly of our journey north out of the ruins, and I missed Salvation with a sharp pang. I hadn’t loved all their rules, but it offered safety with good food and warm beds.

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” Dines said quietly.

He wasn’t much of a talker, too much sorrow and bitterness in him. Along with Hammond, Sands, and Voorhees, he’d traveled from Winterville in response to what he believed to be the colonel’s call. They had come looking for battle, and I’d wasted their time. At the moment, I felt weak, powerless, and small. The world was too big; and I was incompetent. It had been hubris, just like Mrs. James said, for me to imagine I could change anything. The gray sky overhead echoed my shame and the ocean dwarfed me. I was a dot on the sand, a whole lot of nothing. With a soft sigh, I sank down by the fire, grateful for the rock face at my back.

But the men were looking at me, expecting a bolstering word. I had made such promises before, after Appleton and Lorraine, after I wiped the rotten fruit off my face. This most recent failure bit deep, and I had no more promises. But if I didn’t do something—say the right words—I’d lose them.

“Me, either,” Hammond said, staring at me.

The Winterville men didn’t know me. They had no idea if my stories were true.

“I have a new plan,” I murmured, though currently it was to eat soup for dinner instead of meat on a stick.

They didn’t need to know that. Surely I’d figure it out.

Stalker set a hand on my arm, the first time he’d touched me since the night we left Salvation. He looked angry too, though. “I need to talk to you in private.”

“Let’s take a walk,” I said. “Thornton, you have the camp.”

That might be a stupid thing to say, given how little anybody thought of me just then. I wasn’t in charge of anything but a big mess. Yet I was trying so hard, and the girl part of me just wanted to curl up and cry. The Huntress wouldn’t let her, a fact for which I was grateful.

In silence we strolled all the way down to the water, too far for the others to hear us. The wind blew cold and salty against my skin. I shivered but I didn’t react otherwise, fixing my gaze on Stalker’s angry countenance.

“What the devil is wrong with you?” he demanded.

Of all things, I hadn’t expected him to yell at me. “I—”

“Girl, you’re not a talker. That’s why you’re failing. You can’t go around asking people to fight a war with you. Tegan and me, we’ll follow you anywhere but it’s because we’ve seen you fight. That’s how you win people to this cause.”

I started to protest the logistics—because how was I supposed to impress strangers in far-flung towns with my battle prowess—but he held up a hand to forestall my response. “Let me finish. That quarrel at the gate in Gaspard will do us more good than anything we’ve done so far. We made those guards back down. You don’t think people will talk about that? There was a fur trader in the crowd, watching. He’ll carry word.”

“I don’t see how that adds men to the group,” I muttered.

“You wouldn’t. You’ve never built anything.”

“And you have.” I wasn’t being sarcastic. He’d fought his way to the top of the pack within the Wolves, and then molded them into a gang to be feared, wiping out all opposition. So I was seriously listening to his advice.

“Enough roaming around. We pick our home ground, probably near Soldier’s Pond to make it easier to get supplies. We claim and … protect it. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s how you start something like this. It’s not so different from the gangs. I was defending buildings and streets. Out here it’s plains, beaches, and forests. So pick one.”

I thought about that and decided he was right. “Forest. There will be plenty of wood for us to build, varied terrain offering cover. Easier to defend than an open field.”


Stalker jerked his head in an approving nod, his pale eyes glimmering in excitement. “That sounds better. Once we settle, the Freaks will find us. It’ll just be a matter of whether we can defeat them. But that’s a fight the men can get behind. Most of them came out expecting to die anyway or looking for the thrill of battle. You haven’t been offering that.”

It was true. I’d thought it best not to engage or rile the Freaks more than necessary while we built our numbers. But that wasn’t happening. Time to change strategies.

“Thank you. Without you, this would be doomed to fail.”

“Probably,” he said with a trace of his old cockiness.

But the look wasn’t leavened with wistful yearning. Stalker had closed the door on that desire at last. I followed him back to camp, where Spence was stirring the soup. Everyone else talked quietly, tended to their weapons, or both.

I cleared my throat to draw their attention. “I’m sorry our efforts haven’t been as fruitful as I’d hoped. But that part is done. From here on out, we’re taking the fight to the enemy, hard. Maybe we can’t fight the horde, but we can keep our part of the world safe.”