Horde (Razorland #3)(90)

“Still at the shop,” Edmund answered.

Momma Oaks bit her lip. “He’s a tad angry with you.”

There was nothing for it but to get the confrontation out of the way. So I headed down to the workshop, where I found Rex pulling a needle through some leather, trimming it. He glanced at me with a face like a thundercloud.

No greeting. “I saw how many new men you’ve taken on. Are they all trained warriors?”

Since that had been my objection to him joining up, I winced. “No. But they’re not my brothers, either.”

“Do you have any idea how it feels to be refused by your mother?”

“No. Because I never had one until I got yours.”

“Ours,” he corrected, losing a little of his righteous indignation. But he soldiered on, “You should’ve told me in person, Deuce. Instead you slipped off without facing me.”

He was right about that. I’d told myself I was in a hurry, but I just hadn’t wanted to look into his eyes and say, No, you can’t fight. Stay home and make your momma happy. Which was ridiculous, considering he had been married and living away from home for years.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I said honestly. “It would break her heart. And I can’t guarantee your safety out there.”

“You can’t in here, either.”

That was true, especially after what happened in Salvation. “Do you still want to fight?”

“I do. The orders have slacked off … and I can tell Pa’s just inventing work for me, trying to keep me busy.”

“You’re not looking to die to be with Ruth or something stupid like that?”

Rex shook his head. “I want to avenge my wife. It’s a sin and goes against our ways, I know. But as many of those monsters as I can kill, well, I’d consider that a good day’s work.”

I understood this motivation. It shouldn’t involve reckless heroics, either. Because he couldn’t slay a bunch of Freaks if he got himself killed.

“Go see Thornton about weapons … and ask Momma for some fighting gear. Edmund will need to fix your boots too. We could use a lot more of them, come to think of it.”

I contemplated my men with their bloody feet and thin faces. If Company D was to thrive and grow, I had to get better at providing for them. So I went back to the bunkhouse and caught the Oakses in a rare private moment. Edmund was holding Momma Oaks while she wept silently into his shoulder. Sucking in a soft breath, I crept away, not wanting to interrupt. Confused, I sat on the damp ground until I guessed it had been long enough for them to finish whatever that was. I had no idea if she was happily weeping because I’d come back or if she missed Salvation.

Half an hour later, I returned and a glance inside told me that Edmund must’ve gone to the workshop. I caught up with him there and made my request.

He nodded. “I’m happy to make whatever you need, provided I have the supplies. I’ve outfitted all the men here, and now I’m making surplus in common sizes. You’re welcome to them, though if you have men with extra large feet or small ones, they’ll need a custom fit.”

“Thanks, Edmund.”

“I’m glad to do my part for the war effort,” he said quietly.

His sincerity moved me. My father believed I was doing something important, and he took me seriously. I had to hug him, even if that wasn’t usually my first impulse. He looked surprised as I came around the counter, but he wrapped his arms around me like it was the easiest thing in the world. For him and me, though, it never was. For a few seconds, I enjoyed the warmth of his hold. Then I stepped back and told him about Rex.


He flinched far inside his eyes, but he nodded. “I saw that coming. I’ll break the news to your mother.”

I didn’t correct him, even in my head. They weren’t my foster anything. These folks had become my family, along with Fade, Tegan, and maybe, to a lesser degree, Company D.

In the morning, I went to see the colonel before breakfast. I found her in the HQ, listening to reports on Freak movements on the other side of the forest. Though they didn’t go out looking for trouble, Soldier’s Pond always had good intel, but the colonel erred on the side of caution. Deep down I suspected she felt unprepared for her position, just as I did, so she was reluctant to send men out to die. But while humans cowered, the horde grew.

“Colonel Park,” the scout was saying. “There’s no activity in the forest, but there are hunting parties circling around. It’s only a matter of time until they reach us.”

“If you want us to help defend the town, we’ll need more men,” I murmured.

“Good morning to you too,” the colonel said. “You don’t believe in small talk, do you?”

“Not so much. We also need provisions, whatever you can spare.”

“I’d ask how many times you intend to make me turn you down before you give up, but I suspect the answer is infinite. Because you don’t give up.”

I smothered a smile. “I’m not known for it.”

“I’ll talk to the quartermaster and see what we can spare without running the risk of privation this winter.”

“Thanks.”

“Have you given any thought to your command structure?” she asked.

When I shook my head, I received a lecture on the necessity of running a tight ship, whatever that meant. She laid out how a proper army should be run, stressing the importance of a clear hierarchy. Colonel Park scanned the room as if checking for unfriendly ears, then she added, low, “I wish I could do more to help you. But my advisors are frightened, cautious men. They think if we maintain a neutral attitude, the Muties won’t engage.”