Horde (Razorland #3)(69)



“Excellent. Some of you may hesitate when it sinks in—that we’re fighting people. But remember, there’s no help for them. That’s the reason Wilson kept them penned up; he was trying to find a cure, but they’re broken beyond fixing, and it’s a kindness to put them down.” The words sounded hard and cold to my own ears, but the men were nodding. “Now then, team leaders: Stalker, Fade, me, Morrow.”

The storyteller looked surprised to be called out, but he was smart, and he’d lead his men with the same care and wisdom he’d offered Tegan during their training sessions. To avoid any question of favoritism and for the sake of speed, men counted off by fours and then divided up accordingly. I ended up with Thornton and Spence, but not Tully, along with Tegan, three scouts, Zach Bigwater, and three fresh recruits. It was a good mix of skills with enough veterans that we should be able to compensate if Zach panicked under pressure.

“Everyone knows who’s in their squads?” I asked.

They agreed in unison that they did.

“Good. Then, Stalker, you take the eastern section. I’ll go west. Fade, you have the north, and, Morrow, you’ve got the south, where the problem started. But from what Stalker said, there’s trouble all over Winterville now.”

“I’m clear on the objective,” Stalker said.

Morrow inclined his head. “Me too.”

But Fade stepped close, gesturing to his men to wait a second. They were checking their weapons, talking in low voices about the fight to come.

He leaned in with a furrowed brow. “Are you positive you want me in charge?”

I understood that he thought he wasn’t the Hunter he had been, and he had doubts about his leadership. But Fade needed to stop treading in my shadow; he was every bit as fierce and strong as he had been, maybe more so. Blasted few people could survive an experience like his. Even less would be able to wade into battle afterward. He was one of the strongest, bravest people I’d ever known, and it was past time for him to acknowledge that.

One step at a time.

When I met his gaze, I didn’t do so as the girl who loved him or the Huntress partnered with him down below. My tone was firm and cool. “Are you questioning my judgment?”

I read the shock in his gaze, quickly veiled by a thick sweep of lashes. Then he stepped back. “No, sir. I have my assignment.”

I pitched my voice to carry. “When you clear your quadrant, head for the lab at the center of town. You can’t miss it.” I described the building, just in case. “Now let’s get this done.”

Slaughterhouse

If anything, Stalker understated the chaos and carnage.

Winterville reeked of infection and death. The wind carried the stench from all corners, which told me nothing about where we’d find the afflicted ones. I stepped over a puddle of blood and scanned the area before I led my group west. Bloody palm prints stood out in sharp relief on the pale metal of the buildings. Zach Bigwater was an unknown quantity, but fortunately, I had veterans to compensate for his inexperience, and the rest of my team should be competent. My nerves drew taut as I listened. With a glance at Tegan, I confirmed that she heard it too.

Forty paces on, we ran into the source of the noise. Ten feral humans surrounded a house, scrabbling at the barricaded windows, and their utter wrongness pierced me like a blade. As we approached, they turned—an uncontrollable impulse more than a decision—and ran at us with lips curled away from their teeth. I caught a glimpse of rabid eyes with starbursts of blood in the corners, normal human hands with nails untended until they were curled and yellow.

Though I’d cautioned my people not to hesitate, I hated it when I drew my knives. These people didn’t deserve this; Wilson had done it to them—with the best of intentions—but still, their suffering could be laid at his door. When the first lunged at me, I saw that he was Edmund’s age. He might’ve been a farmer before, a normal man who loved his family and hated parsnips. Please, give me the strength to do what’s needed.

With a rush of sorrow, I took him down, and that kill set the tone for everyone else. I glanced around for Tegan, but she was executing the staff maneuvers Morrow had taught her with complete precision. We all accounted for one except for Zach; he froze while the rest of us defended. Afterward, he hunched and lost his breakfast.

“How can you?” he asked in a low whisper. “They were people.”

Tears filled Tegan’s eyes. “I know. But it was a mercy. They couldn’t ever be who they were again. If they were in their right minds, it wouldn’t be necessary.”

I checked all the bodies to make sure they were dead, taking care with their blood as Tegan had suggested. Thornton watched, then he etched what I’d learned was the sign of the cross. I’d seen Morgan do that as well; and he had explained it had spiritual significance when I asked. My family had religion, but they didn’t favor that gesture.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“Lying there, they look so normal, almost like us,” the older man answered.

“I know.”

It was eerie. This was what it must’ve been like long ago, before everyone changed; I glimpsed the Freak genesis in these poor lunatics, and it chilled me to the bone. With care, I closed all the eyes, so they weren’t staring at the sky with eternal hunger. At last, satisfied they were all dead, I straightened, though part of me couldn’t help a primitive fear that these corpses would rise and shamble after us. Apparently the others felt the same because they backed off, and didn’t turn until we moved more than fifty paces away.

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