Horde (Razorland #3)(52)

From there I outlined the strategy Stalker and I had agreed on. The men seemed enthusiastic, eager even, to defend the forest near Soldier’s Pond. Satisfaction replaced a fraction of the shame. We might not be marching an army to face the horde, but this, we could do. I recalled how the Freaks had created a village in the forest near Salvation; we would do the same to them at Soldier’s Pond, and we’d learn every root, branch, and tree, every shadow, until there was nowhere they could find us. If we couldn’t face them en masse, we’d kill them one by one.

We would be ghosts of the forest.

That night, everyone seemed in much brighter spirits. The return trip took us over a week, as we had been traveling steadily east since we left Soldier’s Pond—all the way to the ocean—and that was a hard march. There were settlements to the west too, but we hadn’t gotten that far before failure squashed me like a bug. But I felt better, now that we had an attainable goal.

Nine days of tough travel later, I glimpsed the prickly green trees rising in the distance. Soldier’s Pond lay on the other side, flush with the river, but we weren’t going that far. In addition to occasional hunting, our supplies from Gaspard were holding out fine, and we had to support ourselves in the wilderness. The Freaks were smart enough to study our habits, so if we made regular runs to town, they’d strike when we stepped into the open.

I didn’t intend to make it easy. “There may not be many of us, but we’ll teach the Freaks to fear us. Too long we’ve cowered in ruins and in settlements. It’s time to take back our land.”

Yes, it was just one patch of forest, but I felt like we were drawing a line. Maybe that was just optimism, but I preferred it to despair. The men knew better than to cheer, but they raised their hands in silent anticipation of the killing to come. A few drew their weapons and flourished them. That put a smile on my face. I might not have an army yet, but I’d choose these valiant warriors over a horde any day.

“Will you scout the area?” I asked Stalker.

He nodded. “I’ll take Hammond and Sands.”

“Find us a likely spot, something defensible,” I suggested.

He acknowledged that remark with a vague gesture and the three moved off. The rest of us waited in the green shadow of the trees. Dried needles carpeted the ground here and there, relics of a drought. Tegan came up beside me; she was thin and tan from our time on the road, and she hardly limped at all anymore. I didn’t err by asking how her leg was, either. She was more than an old injury.

“This isn’t how I pictured it when we left,” she said.

“Me either.”

I had imagined myself at the head of a glorious army, unlike any seen since the old world imploded. Instead, at the end of six weeks, I still had twelve volunteers and we were preparing to take a stand in a wood near the town where we started. Momma Oaks would say this was a lesson in humility, teaching me not to put the cart before the horse—and probably, she was right.

Spence said, “It’s better to be out here, preparing to fight. It makes me feel like I’m doing something, at least.”

Tully aimed a fond smile at him. “He hated the endless drills. Said it made him feel like they were training him for a day that would never come.”

“They want us ready to fight, but they don’t really want to battle the Muties,” Spence snapped. “We don’t spend nearly enough time on patrol or hold enough ground. If I wanted to work in the animal sheds, I wouldn’t have enlisted.”

I’d noticed that about Soldier’s Pond. For a town full of warriors, they saw relatively little battle. They sent men out on patrols only enough to keep the immediate area clear, and that was a curious way to live, like the Freak Dr. Wilson kept caged in Winterville. I’d call it mere existence because a barbed metal fence defined their lives. To some extent, I’d felt that way in Salvation too. In my heart, I wanted the world to be safe for humans to travel.

At length, the scouts returned with word that they’d found a suitable location. And when I saw it, I approved the spot at once, a clearing with bits of blue sky showing through the canopy, and the tree limbs overhead were tangled enough that they could support small structures. When my eyes turned up, Fade glanced that way too. He was pale beneath his copper glow; and I feared this reminded him too much of his abduction.

Then he said, echoing my thought, “We could start by building platforms, walkways amid the trees. Cut some timber to use the branches to form a makeshift roof.”

Tully pointed to a straight, sturdy limb. “I could perch up there, shooting Freaks.”

She was walking death with her crossbow, and the monsters had no comparable weapons. The others spread out, assessing the terrain and deciding how they could best turn it against our enemies. With a smile, I turned to Stalker and his men.

“Perfect. Great work.” Then I called to Thornton, “Do you have that hand ax?”

“Of course. Never go anywhere without it.”

I pitched my voice to carry. “Then get to work. There’s no telling how long we have until the Freaks find us. I intend to be ready.”

Embattled

We worked undisturbed in the forest for a week.

That was good, as it gave us time to implement some of our plans. The roof would take longer, of course, but we cut and split enough young trees to establish the walkways Fade had mentioned. With judicious use of our limited supplies, we employed twine, vines, and resin to fix the logs in place. Tully got her shooting perch as well. By the time we finished, the camouflage was complete, and you wouldn’t notice our camp in the boughs unless you were looking for it. Cooking still took place on the ground, of course, but it looked more like an isolated fire than a settlement, which was exactly what we wanted.