Horde (Razorland #3)(67)

“Get this man some medical attention,” I said to the guards. “Then find him some hot food. I’ll take it from here.”

It wasn’t until I was walking away, and I heard Morgan say, “Come on, we’ll take you to see Doc Tegan first,” that it fully sank in just how much things had changed.

Those men took my orders without question, and they weren’t even part of Company D. My shoulders squared, and I walked a little taller on the way to HQ. Inside, the colonel was waiting for my word on the situation.

Quickly I summarized the problem, then reminded her of what Wilson had told me. She listened with her usual acuity. Since our go-round earlier in the year when I’d threatened to cut her throat, the colonel treated me with caution and respect. I’d come to the conclusion she wasn’t a bad person, but like Silk, she had the ability to make awful choices for the good of the whole. It wasn’t a trait I coveted.

“Do you have any idea how many infected souls we’re talking about?”

I shook my head. “They won’t be as smart as the Muties we’ve been fighting, though. Wilson said their higher brain function was compromised.” Though I wasn’t fully clear on what that meant, I guessed they’d be like the Freaks I fought first, down below.

“So you don’t know how many men you need.”

“I have forty-four at last count.” Such a small crew, compared with the horde, but we’d likely be equal to the problems in Winterville.

“Then handle it. By the way, I’ve decided to commission Company D formally for rescue operations. Given what we know of mutant intentions and numerical advantage, it seems likely more of these requests will arrive. You’ll retain command and will assess all threats and determine the best response, according to our resources.”

“I thought I wasn’t old enough to enlist,” I said.

“And you haven’t. Elite squads aren’t subject to the same regulations.” By her smug smile, she was pleased at getting around the rules while still finding a use for my team.

“With respect, sir, I decline your offer. I intend to take anyone who will join up, not just men from Soldier’s Pond.” I struggled with how to word my explanation. “Our cause still isn’t about defending towns … Company D is meant to end the Mutie threat. So while we’ll handle appeals for help if they come while we’re in town, I can’t guarantee we will be. The fight’s out there, and I intend to be too, as long as the weather holds. Right now, we don’t have the numbers to face the horde, but someday…” I trailed off, my meaning plain.

This time, she didn’t laugh.

“I understand.” Her eyes were sad, but her tone was brisk when she added, “You’ll need to brief your men and get moving. No telling how bad it is in Winterville.”

“Yes, sir.” I didn’t salute her when I left, as the others did.

Colonel Park wasn’t my leader. I shared information with her out of respect, not obligation. I’d meant it when I said she’d get nothing else out of me. I wasn’t a little black piece on her maps, willing to move against the red markers at her will.

When I met the men, already assembled in the shed for afternoon training, I gave them the quick rundown. I finished with “Get your gear. We’re moving in an hour.”

It didn’t take long to raid my footlocker and pack my things. I was lacing up my boots when Momma Oaks found me. She was carrying a bundle; I first thought she’d made some more clothes. Then she unfolded the fabric, and the shape marked it as wrong for a shirt or a gown.

The material was plain, the first I’d seen since my arrival that hadn’t been dyed olive drab. She had cut it into a triangle and banded the edges in green. Square in the middle sat a stitched version of my personal token, a black spade with a two on top of it. The dark symbol looked powerful against the pale background, more so because she’d embroidered a red border. She had precious few supplies left from her seamstress work in Salvation, and I couldn’t believe she’d used them up to make such a thing for me.

I also didn’t know what it was.

“It’s a pennant,” she explained. “I read in a book where warriors used to fly their colors when they went to war, so all their enemies would see them and despair.”

This … this was the truest love. She hated it every time I went out, but because she loved me, she supported me, even though it scared her. A fist tightened around my heart.

“Thank you,” I said. “It’s wonderful. How am I supposed to display it?”

“On a short pole, I think. I have Edmund working on it.”

“We’re leaving soon,” I said, hating to disappoint her.

“I know. He’ll be along shortly.” Momma Oaks paused. “Do you trust me, Deuce?”

“Of course.”

“Then let me have your token.”

My hand went to the hidden pocket in my shirt reflexively. Over the course of my travels, the card had become more bloodstained, but I had never lost it. I fought the urge to ask why; instead I proved my faith by producing it and offering it to her without a word. My mother smiled as she got out her needle, then she sewed the card into the center of the banner.

“Now it’s finished. This represents your fighting spirit and I truly believe as long as you keep it safe, you cannot fail.”