Misdirection
Fade and I slipped out of town early the next morning. The colonel was running a drill with mandatory attendance for all, creating enough commotion that nobody would notice our absence until it was too late. Fade was worried about letting Edmund down in the shop, and I felt guilty not telling my family about the assignment, but they would only fret longer if they knew, plus I’d have to deal with another emotional good-bye. Sometimes it was more expedient to get on with your work and apologize later.
Not since we first came Topside had Fade and I taken a journey alone. Though I didn’t say so out loud, it was nice having him to myself. There was no one to note how often I admired his sure strides or the strength of his broad shoulders. At once I chastened myself for such thoughts. They had no place outside the safety of town limits; in the wilderness, an instant’s distraction could have disastrous consequences.
“According to the maps, it’s a three-day run,” I said.
“You think we can do it faster?”
“I hope so. If we’re gone for a week, Momma Oaks will have a conniption.” That was a new word, one I loved. When I’d asked what it meant, Edmund described it in such an exaggerated way that I didn’t want to see such a fit for myself, in case he was telling the truth.
“Times like this, I miss my folks most,” Fade said softly.
“Because you want to be in trouble too?”
“No. I wish I had somebody to worry about me.”
“You do,” I told him. “I fret over you all the time. I just don’t say anything because it doesn’t seem like something you’d want to hear from me.”
He flashed me a smile as we put Soldier’s Pond behind us. “Feel free to fuss a little. I wouldn’t mind.”
It occurred to me then that his life had been bereft of small kindnesses, like when he put his head in my lap, and I stroked his hair. For me, it wasn’t such a large matter; I hadn’t even known I was supposed to want such things, until I met Fade. But with his desire to be touched struggling against the weight of bad memories, however, I wasn’t sure he could bear it, and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt or trouble him, even with the best intentions. But maybe this trip could reassure him that he was strong and competent—that the Freaks hadn’t changed anything.
The sun was just creeping above the horizon as I broke into a run. It felt good to be away from the settlement, even if it also carried risk. I was used to that, less prepared for the pain and exhaustion that nursing left behind. Fade jogged alongside me and I remembered our desperate journey to Nassau down below. Topside, the light was better, and the air was clean. I smelled the dying leaves and broken blades of grass beneath my feet, faint musk of animal droppings and the honeyed purr of clover in the air. In a few more months, the snow would come; my family needed to be settled before that time.
Toward the end of that first day, we dodged Freak patrols like it was our reason for living. They were only hours away from Soldier’s Pond, but I guessed the military settlement had given them reason to fear a direct attack. I’d rather fight and clear the area, but I had been instructed to get there undetected, and I had to admit, it would only complicate our mission if we had monsters chasing us. With only two of us on the move, our scent shouldn’t be strong enough to attract a big hunting party. Chills crawled over my body when I caught the rare scent of the Freaks on the wind—not the old, rotten reek, but the new, meaty animal smell. It told me that these creatures had changed for good, and if we couldn’t work out how and why, then we might not survive the coming conflict.
Fear might have paralyzed me if not for Fade. He beckoned with a determined look, then guided me around the danger zone. I kept my footfalls light and soft while we passed through; and in the distance, I heard it—the rustling foliage and cracking branches that said we had company. The Freaks called to one another in a whuffing, growling tongue—what dogs might sound like if they could speak. I could hardly hold the question until we were out of range.
“Do you think they have their own language?” I whispered.
“I think so.” His voice was low and grave. “I’m pretty sure they spoke to one another while they held me. But I don’t care to stick around to ask.”
I shivered. “Me, either.”
There was no way to tell how many were lurking nearby without a scout. For the first time, I wished Stalker had come with us. If anyone could give us the lay of the land and warn us of dangers ahead without being spotted, it was him. But Fade and I would manage. We had before, though the stakes had never been this high.
“This way. The air smells clean.”
That was no longer a foolproof system, but we didn’t have a better option. My heart thudding like mad, I followed Fade. As he moved, he kept to the shadow of the trees, as the forest grew thick and uncut to the northwest of Soldier’s Pond with the river glimmering in the distance like a silver snake. The day warmed as it wore on, one of those perfect fall mornings with the sky so blue that it looked like a painting, yet the sun wasn’t so bright that it hurt my eyes. For that reason, I preferred this season to all others, even spring planting.
When the sun hit its zenith, Fade found a shaded spot beneath the red-tinged canopy. I broke out the bread, dried meat, and water, then we ate with efficient speed. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but we had at least four more hours of running ahead of us. Town life had softened me; I noticed the burn as I wouldn’t have before. I’d put on weight, too, softening in ways that were occasionally inconvenient, though I hadn’t minded when Fade examined those curves.
By nightfall, we had dodged four Freak patrols and outrun the trees, leaving us only open ground upon which to make camp. We could do without a fire, but it would get colder as the night wore on. I ate only a little of our packed food, thinking we might need it before the trip ended; things seldom went according to plan. The water, I downed generously, as I heard the river burbling nearby. We weren’t encamped on its banks—that would be asking for trouble since Freaks had to stop to drink—but it was close enough to be reassuring. Clean water was always a concern in the wilderness.
“Can I see the map?”
I handed it to him. “How did we do?”
“We shaved some time off the estimate. If we maintain this pace, though, we’ll be burnt to nubs when we arrive in Winterville.”
“The alternative is stretching this out. Sooner we get there, find this Dr. Wilson, and get back with his data, the faster we can put Soldier’s Pond behind us.”
“Did you mean what you said?”
“About what?” I asked.
“Raising an army.”
I tilted my head. “One town won’t be enough to defeat the horde. With the Freaks organizing and banding together, we have to do the same. It can’t matter where somebody’s from or why they want to fight. It only matters if they’re committed.”
“The colonel laughed. You really think we can do this?” While it warmed my heart to hear that instinctive “we,” the question also showed me how much the Freaks had damaged his confidence. He’d had my back in the meeting, but now the doubts emerged.
“I think we’ve lost if we don’t try,” I said.
“Then I’m with you.” He pitched his voice low so it wouldn’t carry—and in that moment of everlasting sweetness, it felt like a secret pact, Fade and me against the world.
Too soon, dark fell and cradled us in night. We had come far enough from Soldier’s Pond that there were no lights apart from moon and stars. How odd that I could’ve so quickly forgotten that darkness like this existed, beyond banishing by candles or the crafty glow of old-world lights. I held my hand up to my face, marveling at the smudgy lines. To my annoyance, I was too keyed up to sleep.
“I’ll take the first watch,” I said.
Fade shook his head. “We both need to rest. I’ll put dry branches around the perimeter. If anything crosses, the noise will wake us.”
“Good idea.” I helped him gather them, then we created a box far enough from our bedrolls that it should give us time to draw our weapons.
My time at the outpost had left me sleeping even lighter. Though I had never mentioned my bad dreams to anyone, between memories of the enclave and Fade’s abduction, I didn’t sleep well most nights anyway. Between my nighttime troubles and Fade’s precautions, I doubted the Freaks could sneak up on us. Of course, before it happened, I would’ve said they couldn’t steal fire or take two men from an armed encampment, too. Those facts left me faintly unnerved.
“It’ll be cold tonight.” I nodded as I curled into my blankets, too preoccupied to wonder at the statement. The reason for it became clear when Fade added, “You could sleep next to me.”
“Would that be all right?”
“It was before. I rolled toward you … and I might as well save us that step.”
“I’d like that if it wouldn’t bother you.”
He exhaled slowly and with obvious trepidation. “I’ll let you know.”
Feeling like I was taming a wild creature, I eased my back up to his front by increments, and I stopped when I could just barely feel him. He came a little closer on his own, so the heat was immediately palpable. Delight cascaded through me when he dropped his arm over my waist. I braced for rejection, but instead he seemed to be settling in, and I felt the warm gust of his breath against the back of my head.
“You have no idea how happy this makes me,” I whispered.
His voice was somber. “It makes me feel less broken. It helps when I can plan it and consider all the reasons it’s a good thing, first. I still quake like a child over loud noises, sudden touches, people popping out at me unexpectedly—”
“That’s normal,” I said, though I had no idea whether it was. Then it occurred to me how I could best help him—by reassuring him he wasn’t alone. “I never told you this, but I have nightmares. The blind boy from down below, usually. Since we came Topside, there are more … being taken by the Wolves, and later, when I feared I’d lost you forever … that’s the worst. I’m in the woods again, it’s dark and I’m alone, and I’m surrounded by the horde, only this time, I’m covered in my own blood, not their entrails, so they’re all staring right at me. I know I’m going to die—that I failed you and it’ll be my fault that—” The tears surprised me, choking my words.
That you die. I don’t save you.
Before this moment, it hadn’t occurred to me that my weakness would matter to him. Fade levered up on his elbow and tugged on my shoulder. I could tell he wanted me to face him. Another gentle pull, and I succumbed. His eyes were wide and soft, surprised even, in the moonlight, like he hadn’t known I could suffer the same way he did. Well, maybe not the same, but if he was damaged, I surely was too. I strangled the weeping with a few sharp breaths.
“You’re not as strong as I thought.”
“I know,” I said miserably. “Silk always said that. She told me over and over that I have a Breeder’s heart, and I’ll never be a true Huntress.”
“You’re stronger. Much as I love you, I always thought you don’t feel things like I do. But the truth is, you just hide it better. You carry it around without ever asking anybody to help shoulder it. I’m so sorry. I just … left you, hurting, and I was so worried about being worthy that I never once suspected you need me too.”
My voice came out small in the dark. “I do.”
For once, the Huntress was in complete agreement with the girl.
Fade trembled when he touched my hair. “I promise I won’t go away again, even inside my head. And you tell me about the bad dreams from now on. Please don’t hide. Not from me.”
“Then in the interest of full honesty, I really wish you’d kiss me right now.”
Apart from the blind nuzzling in his sleep, he hadn’t touched me like that since his return. Considering it hadn’t been very long since we started sparking, I missed it a whole lot. His breath misted my forehead, and Fade pressed a kiss there, delicate as a moth’s wing. That wasn’t what I had in mind, but I feared spooking him. He dusted kisses along my temple down to my cheekbone, then I couldn’t help it. I turned my head so my mouth met his. He made a soft sound, and I was in accord.
I didn’t grab on to him, though I wanted to. He had conveyed to me that touching went easier when he was in charge of it—braced for it—and so I kept my hands still. Somehow that only made me more conscious of the hot glide of his lips, and the way his body lit mine up like a summer night, all heat and starlight. His tongue grazed mine; it was all I could do not to leap on him. Proud of my self-control, I lay in the circle of his arm after he broke the kiss, dreaming of the day when I could again touch him freely.
With a soft sigh, Fade rested his forehead against mine. “We should get to sleep. It will be another long day tomorrow.”
He was more right about that than he knew.