Horde (Razorland #3)(87)

“Thanks.”

Though his arms remained at his sides, Fade whispered, “This is me holding you. And this is me, kissing you for luck.”

That put a smile on my face. Maybe a battlefield was no place for such attachments, but I couldn’t put away those feelings. He was part of me like my shadow.

“This is me, kissing you back.”

“Deuce!” Morrow shouted. “I need you.”

My eyes met Fade’s and clung, and that look said so many things, and then I strode away to handle last-minute inquiries about troop deployments. The camp the Freaks had chosen offered us higher ground on a ridge above, so that was where I meant to plant our riflemen. Tully planned to start the fires, and six soldiers would carry the firebombs, which could be lobbed as far as somebody could throw them.

Just after moonrise, Company D moved out. A silver sliver in the sky, the moon cast barely enough light to keep the rest of the men from stumbling over their feet. For me, it was fine, and I could’ve navigated with my eyes closed. Which meant I was on point with the scouts to make sure the ambush went off smoothly.

I crept up over the rise, my stomach in knots. I hadn’t seen so many Freaks gathered in one place since I ran from the horde, saving Fade. Fear boiled up in the form of bile, acid in my throat, but I swallowed it down. You’ve taken enough, I told the monsters silently. This is all you get. This is where the end begins.

After spotting the best vantage points, I set the riflemen in place. Once the fires started burning down below, it should help with targeting. After all, it didn’t matter where they shot the Freaks; bullets never felt good going in. Once Tully was in position with the gunmen, I crept down to join the others.

“Thornton,” I whispered. “You have command of the infantry. Don’t let the inexperienced ones get swept too far into the mob.”

“Will do my best,” he said with Longshot’s familiar salute.

Thornton wasn’t the only man I’d seen use that gesture; it was common in the territories, a way of showing respect without acknowledging any superior rank. Yet it was inexpressibly poignant to see that just before the fight of a lifetime, a sign that Longshot was here watching over me. Maybe that was nonsense, but I’d take the hope of it because then I could imagine being united someday with the people I’d lost. If nothing else, it bolstered my courage, so I was able to give orders in a tone firm enough to make them believe we would triumph.

“The enemy’s sleeping, men. Bring the pain.”

Escort

From the first fiery bolt, the battle went according to plan.

We got a bonus when the field caught, creating an inferno of snarling panic. The Freaks fled from the blaze and ran straight into our blades. Between the dark night and the bright fire, they hardly saw us as they died. The firebombs exploded in the center of the camp, immolating a number of the monsters. On the ridge, riflemen picked them off as they scattered. In the chaos, we killed them with impunity, until they realized how few we were and then they charged. I couldn’t let them surround us. My men didn’t have the experience to win at such steep odds.

“Sound the retreat,” I shouted.

Morrow piped out the notes warning the squad to fall back to the agreed location on the forest’s edge. The men responded, aware our tactics didn’t allow for a stand-up fight; we meant to kill as many as possible before luring them to more advantageous terrain, where we’d fare better against superior numbers. Fade was nearby, so we fought together as we gave ground. I stabbed and slashed, careful not to turn my back on monsters that might impale me from behind. Thornton shot one over my shoulder and I turned. Fade ran with me, full out, until we put the war zone behind us. I counted as the soldiers stumbled in. In the end, we lost ten men. Well enough, I hadn’t expected to defeat them in one ambush.

“How many did you get?” I asked the men, after they reached our rendezvous point.

The tally was close to a hundred—and I smothered their urge to cheer. It was a solid achievement, one third of the enemy’s number. We fell back into the forest thereafter and these Freaks apparently weren’t bound by the deal we’d made with the others, which confirmed they were part of the horde. They hunted us through the trees, but in such terrain, they couldn’t fight as a mob, so we picked them off. Company D fought in constant motion, never letting them rest. On the sixth night, the Freaks fell back to set up camp in the grasslands beyond. There were only a hundred of them left by then, but I had no plans to offer them a fair fight.

Two weeks into the conflict, other problems plagued us. Between the Freaks in the area and our own men, it was difficult to find game. Fishing helped a little, but time spent on provender, as Thornton called it, left less time for evading their attacks and for planning our own. The situation had to be addressed before it got worse.

Before I could resolve that crisis, Morrow brought grim news. “There’s a trade caravan heading from Gaspard to Soldier’s Pond. My scouts think the Muties we’ve been harassing intend to hit it for supplies before circling back to Lorraine.”

“We can’t let that happen,” I said. “Let’s move.”

That began a hard march east with little food and less sleep. Company D was thin and exhausted when we met the traders on the road. I expected them to greet us with rifles, but word of our exploits had spread, and they actually recognized the banner Momma Oaks had made. Most days, Gavin carried it proudly, the pennant flying in the wind.