Horde (Razorland #3)(93)

“I’ve looked to all of you repeatedly. It’s time to make it official. I talked to the colonel about rankings and she said a company as large as ours needs command infrastructure, so the men know who to talk to and who’s in charge.”

Thornton nodded. “I wondered when you would get around to it.”

“You didn’t see the need to clue me in?”

“Nope.”

I laughed. Though he was bigger and blunter than Longshot had been, sometimes Thornton reminded me of him. “You’re staff sergeant, and I’m putting you in charge of provisions. If we need something, let me know. If you see a soldier going without or who’s not taking care of his gear, tell me that too.”

“Does this mean I get to scream when I see infractions?”

“Yep,” I said, mimicking his delivery.

He actually cracked a smile. “Then thank you for that.”

“Tegan, I’m officially making you company medic. Keep an eye on the soldiers because they may not come forward if they’re feeling off. I know it’s a lot to ask because there’s so many of us now—”

“Do I get a fancy title?” she cut in pertly.

“Doc Tegan isn’t enough?”

She smiled. “No, it’ll do. And it’s nice to have my talents recognized.”

“I’m told I need a squad leader for every thirty men.” At that point, I looked at Fade, Tully, and Spence. “I’m dividing the men up between the three of you. You have more like sixty men each at this point, but we’ll have to make do.”

“You’re not taking a squad?” Tully asked.

I shook my head. “The colonel tells me that the captain—or whatever I am—has to be apart from keeping the peace like you three will. Should I have them count off?”

I studied the men standing in formation. At last, we looked like a proper army, no longer ragtag or mismatched, and with Gavin flying our banner proudly at the front of the column, a tremor of pride ran through me. Momma Oaks made this possible; she sewed until her fingers bled to get the uniforms done fast enough … because it was my dream. These men weren’t bound to any town; they all shared a single cause—to defeat the Freaks or die trying.

I did this.

I didn’t quit.

And I will not fail.

“That would be easiest,” Tully said, responding to my question.

I shouted for the men to sound off in threes. Once they finished, I called, “Squad one, if you need anything, see Fade. He is the boss of you. Any problems he can’t handle will be brought to me, and you do not want that.” Not a single soldier snickered, probably because I was borrowing Momma Oaks’s sternest voice. “Squad two, you’re with Tully. Threes, look to Spence. If we separate for any reason, these are the leaders you follow. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

“If you forget your number, you’ll dig latrines, even if we don’t need them. Questions?”

“No, sir!”

“Then let’s move out.”

* * *

Thus commenced the summer of blood. We fought Freaks from the other side of the forest all the way to Gaspard and back again. The men were brave, even the inexperienced ones. The battles ran together, day after day, while we kept the trade routes clear. Company D got proficient at packing up their gear to move on to the next fight; the last time, it took less than two minutes and I was counting.

Now and then I caught Rex eyeing me but I couldn’t read his expression. I treated him like everyone else, but I was happy to see him in one piece as time wore on. As for me, I had new scars and healing wounds, bruises on bruises from sleeping on the hard ground. I had seldom been so weary, but the Freaks never seemed to run out of bodies to throw at us. Each night, I dreamed of bloodshed and violence, of Freaks pillaging Soldier’s Pond, as they had Salvation and Appleton. We kept the wagons moving, but accomplished little else because the horde wasn’t stirring. Instead, they sent out hunting parties to test our abilities … and the survivors fled to report back with our scouts nipping at their heels.

The impasse made me nervous.

The days were hot and sticky; flies buzzed around the fields full of their dead. We burned the monsters when we could and left them to rot otherwise. I wished I could dream of Morrow’s stories about Rosemere, but my mind was a dark and awful place. Sometimes it seemed that the killing would never end, and because they could breed faster, reach fighting age sooner, I didn’t see a happy ending.

My naming day came and went unnoticed. This year, there were no sweets or presents, no party. Instead, I stood knee-deep in mud with a summer storm bearing down. The sky was all snaps of lightning, booming thunder, while my feet slid beneath me. It was hard to fight, tough to see with the rain sluicing through my plaits and into my eyes. But the weather didn’t deter the Freaks, so we stood our ground. This was the biggest hunting party yet, close to our number, and it horrified me that the enemy could send so many while the bulk of the horde squatted in Appleton. It seemed like such a horrendous waste, but maybe the monsters had some plan my human brain couldn’t fathom.

And that possibility scared the devil out of me.

I stabbed another, then another, its blood spilling away into the rain. My hands were cold, clumsy, and I lost my grip on the wet dagger. It sank into the mud; and I couldn’t kick with the earth sucking at my boots. Fade slid in with a smooth strike, saving me, and I lifted my head in a weary, silent thank-you. He dug out my dagger and we pushed forward to help the rest of the men, all bogged down and stumbling.