Horde (Razorland #3)(9)

A group of Freaks hit us—ten strong—and they snarled a challenge, fortunately drowned by the roaring fire they had started. Some distance beyond I heard townsfolk screaming, but I couldn’t focus on them just yet. If Fade and I died here, I wouldn’t be able to help anyone; I wasn’t ready for my soul to drift out of my ears. In a smooth motion, I drew my blades and Fade backed up against me. This felt sure and natural. It was long odds, but I had been fighting this kind of battle since the day I was born, not against Freaks, but against hunger and disease—enemies that couldn’t be faced down with a knife and a fierce look.


“We can take them,” Fade said.

“We have to.”

There was no other option. Either we killed them quick or the rest of the horde found us. Maybe we could drop ten, but not a hundred or a thousand. Or more. They encircled us so we couldn’t flee, more signs they were employing tactics and strategy, but since we had no interest in turning tail, they only offered us better targets. I hoped the Soldier’s Pond reinforcements didn’t retreat, as we might need them to cover our return.

Too late to worry about it now.

The first one lashed out at me and I met the strike with a slice of my blade, opening its forearm from elbow to wrist. Oddly, the blood smelled less fetid to me, if not quite what normal humans had. I sniffed as I followed up with my left knife, carving a path across its chest. More salt and something else, but this Freak no longer reeked as if it were rotting from within. It just smelled … different, and that worried me, but I reacted with dead calm, blocking second and third strikes. The fourth one nailed me, and it hurt. With Fade at my back, I couldn’t retreat. I had to hold my ground for him.

I felt his movements behind me, full of his old grace. Now and then he grunted a curse, muffled a sound of pain. I finished the first one with a downward arc of my knife. Four to go. Gunfire banged in sharp repetition some yards away.

So all the guards aren’t dead. They’re fighting in that inferno.

The Freak dropped at my feet, giving the others room to spread out. They didn’t growl or keen in grief; no, these were warriors, bent on my death. With more room to maneuver, they could swing wider and at the same time. I battled two at once while the third and fourth snarled, looking for an opening, but they couldn’t get to me without knocking their comrades aside. Freaks had progressed far enough that they didn’t shove one another down to get at their prey.

They’re fully organized. The thought chilled me, even as I severed two claws. Still twitching, they hit the grassy ground, smearing green with red, though in the dark it was impossible to tell. Blood spurted from the stumps, then the beast lunged at me with its other talons. Its partner came at me from the side and nearly took my head off. I was tired from the march, too slow to offer my best efforts. But Fade came across my shoulder and stabbed the Freak right through the eye.

When I glanced back, just for a second, I saw he’d already dropped three, and the other two were showing signs of fear. They hadn’t broken and run but they’d backed off a few steps, snarling to show they meant business, but when that wasn’t followed by an immediate attack, it meant he had successfully intimidated them. I loved seeing him back in fighting form, even as I was a little ashamed of my own performance. But maybe Fade needed me to be weak occasionally, giving him the opportunity to be strong. That was all right by me; it wasn’t like I was doing this on purpose.

I’m just so tired.

“Don’t make me do all the work.” His tone was lighter than I’d heard in days.

“I’m trying.”

But when I barely blocked a blow that would’ve impaled me, he snarled like a beast; and like he had done down below, I watched him come unhinged. I knew enough to scramble out of his way as Fade went berserk, his knives a silver blur in the starlight. Moments later, there were ten bodies at his feet and he was covered in blood, breathing hard through his nose.

I approached with care, keeping an eye on the periphery. “Thanks. I was flagging.”

“Don’t I scare you when I get like that?” he asked, low.

I said with conviction, “No. You’d never hurt me.”

“I already have.”

“Not with your knives. Come on.” I cut the discussion and wheeled toward the burning town, determined to help if at all possible.

But the heat was too fierce near the walls and I couldn’t cross. Maybe if I had a wagon or some buckets, I could work on the fire, but my knives were no help at all and I could hear Freaks nearby. This wasn’t a rescue; it was just foolish. My heart dropped into my stomach. Then I saw someone moving near the walls.

Desperate, I yelled, “There’s a secret exit under Elder Bigwater’s house, a tunnel that leads out of town. Round up as many people as you can and get them out!”

“Thanks, Deuce! Will do,” came the shouted reply. Through flickering orange flames, I caught a glimpse of the man moving off, and I was relieved to recognize Harry Carter. He’d saved my life, done me a good turn when Longshot died, and it was right to repay the favor.

Fade beckoned impatiently. “We need to get away, direct the others to the tunnel mouth if they’re still here.”

I nodded. “Lead on.”

The run was harrowing since we were dodging prowling Freaks the whole time, and I was relieved to see Morgan and others right where we’d left them. “If you were one of my soldiers, you’d get a dishonorable discharge so fast it’d make your head spin.”