Horde (Razorland #3)(73)

Red-eyed and fearful, Danbury cleared his throat, reminding me that we had a problem. I said, “I need to know how dangerous it is if we were bitten by one of the afflicted.”

“No more than any human bite,” Wilson answered. “The human mouth is filthy. But the mental deterioration you noticed sprang from adverse bioreaction to the mutant pheromones I released, not from viral or bacterial infection.” The scientist shook his head. “Regardless of the external pressures, I’m not reckless enough to experiment with viruses. They’re the most dangerous and insidious form of contagion.”

What he’d done with the potion seemed plenty irresponsible to me, but I didn’t know what a virus was, so maybe it was worse. From that moment, Tegan looked at Dr. Wilson like he wore a silver crown, and she pelted him with questions regarding things I might’ve wondered about too if my men weren’t tired and hungry and Winterville still such a mess.

“In the morning,” I said, “we’ll advise the townsfolk that it’s safe and help with cleanup. For now, find a place to bed down and eat whatever you have left in your pack. I’ll make sure we get a hot meal tomorrow.”

Danbury was frowning. He peeled back the bandage to stare at the bite on his arm. The afflicted must’ve died before he or she could really dig in. “What did all of that mean?”

“Just watch for infection. You won’t go crazy.”

That seemed to relieve him. All around the lab and in the hall, men laid out their bedrolls. I had no idea how late it was, but between the day’s horrors and the hard travel behind us, I was too tired to be hungry. On impulse, I left the lab and followed the turns of the corridor until I found the cages where Dr. Wilson had kept Timothy. They all stood empty, and they had been cleaned, so the room smelled sharply of vinegar, no hint of Freak at all.

Without turning, I recognized Fade’s footfalls as he came up behind me. “It’s so odd to think of them dying of old age.”

“Like people.”

That was part of what bothered me about all of this. The more the Freaks changed, the more they became like us. How many more generations before they spoke and thought as well as we could? At that point, their faster development meant they would outpace us in the breeding department. Another question ate at me—maybe the monsters were supposed to survive. Not us. And how could I fight nature on such a scale?

Weary, I leaned my head against the door frame. I should go back and lead by example, but I needed a quiet moment. Just one. Fade put his arms around me, looping them so that he could rest his chin on my shoulder. His warmth felt good, and the men were safe for the moment. That was a heavy burden, thinking about so many other people all the time. I didn’t ever want to be an elder if it meant this much pressure. Maybe it was why so many lost their minds and made decisions for all the wrong reasons.

“You were right,” he said quietly.

“About what?”

“I needed to lead today, though I was mad at you for making me do it.”

Oh. I guessed our current position meant he’d gotten over it. “You brought back your whole team, so I knew it went well. But I had no doubts.”

“I did,” he admitted. “I was afraid I’d lock up or panic.”

“You’ve fought since you were taken.”

“It’s harder when your choices affect other people,” he pointed out.

So true.

“But you coped. No matter what life offers, you just fight harder. I love that about you.”

I could tell he was smiling when he nuzzled the curve of his lips into my neck. “Let’s see if we can find a place to clean up.”

Since I didn’t care for the idea of sleeping in travel dust and the blood of the day’s battles, I followed him. The lab complex was bigger than it looked from the outside, as corridors crisscrossed the length and breadth of it. There were also stairs down, but I’d had enough of darkness, so I steered us away from there. At length we found a cleaning room with a spigot that provided a gush of water.

Fade and I took turns rinsing off, and I was conscious of my heart beating in my throat as I scrambled into clean clothes. I’d like to see what he looked like with nothing on, but this wasn’t the time or place. I cursed those girlish impulses as Fade strode out with damp hair flopping into his eyes. In the winter months, he tended to let it get shaggy, providing more warmth, and then as the sun shone brighter, he often hacked it off. It didn’t matter to me what he did with it; I enjoyed gazing at him regardless. By his expression, the feeling was mutual.

Fade appraised me with warm, dark eyes, and it was as powerful as a kiss. “I could look at you forever and never get tired of your face.”

His words flooded me with pleasure so sharp it pierced like pain. That was better than saying I was beautiful, though he’d done so before. This moment felt like a forever-thing, because he saw me when he looked in my eyes, and I’d always be that person, no matter how the years changed me. With that tender weight between us, we returned to the main hall. When the men saw we’d found hygiene facilities, they demanded directions. In twos and threes, they went off to tidy up as well before breaking bread—and I decided I hadn’t done such a bad job of leading by example. A girl could do worse than inspiring soldiers to bathe. Fade and I ate dry meat and stale bread, typical of road food. As I washed it down with tepid water, I imagined a roast goose like Momma Oakes used to make in Salvation with all the trimmings: creamy sweet potatoes swimming in butter and honey, brown bread, green beans, and berries in cream.