Horde

Reinforcements

 

 

 

 

“You knew about Salvation?” Stalker asked, seeming incredulous.

 

The colonel shook her head. “I noticed a difference in Mutie attack patterns around here. Then they all moved off. I said it meant they must be planning something, but my advisors thought I was being an alarmist.”

 

So not only did she believe us, she’d foreseen the progression. This would save us a lot of time begging and trying to convince somebody who didn’t believe the world could change. Some of the tension left me, though none of the exhaustion. I was conscious that every moment I spent talking was one that Salvation lost, and I remembered the men on the walls, gray-faced with fatigue and firing gamely on, even as Smith fought to keep up with their ammo usage. Without Stalker’s help, that might prove beyond his powers. We had to get back right away.

 

“Then you can probably imagine how things are,” I said. “How soon can you send some men with us?”

 

A man with a mustache spoke for the first time. “We can’t just send our standing forces off on a whim.”

 

“It’s not a whim,” Tegan snapped.

 

Another advisor agreed: “Saving Salvation might mean losing Soldier’s Pond.”

 

“This could be what the Muties want. How do we know their gambit in Salvation isn’t a diversion? The minute we weaken our entrenched position, they’ll attack,” the last councilor predicted.

 

“They’ll come for you eventually,” Fade muttered.

 

“Enough.” The colonel infused her tone with cold finality.

 

“Have you made a decision?” I asked.

 

She sighed, looking tired. “Unfortunately, it’s not up to me. Something this significant must be put to a vote.”

 

“Then call an emergency meeting,” Tegan suggested.

 

I agreed with her. We couldn’t afford to let people sleep. The colonel considered, then nodded at Morgan. “Go wake up the rest of the council. Get them here in the next half hour. These four need an answer, either way. I suspect you’ll be returning home to fight, regardless of the result.” She addressed the final statement to us.

 

“Yes, ma’am.” Fade had internalized lessons about respectful modes of address faster than I did.

 

She put a hand on my shoulder. I was glad she didn’t choose Fade for this gesture, as it wouldn’t end well. “Are you hungry? The least I can do is feed you while you wait.”

 

“That would be welcome,” Stalker answered.

 

Colonel Park turned to one of her advisors. “Get something warm for them to eat. There should still be soup on the hearth in the mess.”

 

Within minutes, we all had hearty stew and bread to clean the bowls with. I perched on a chair at the edge of the room, and the others followed suit. It was quiet while we ate, then shortly thereafter, five more people stumbled into the room, three men, two women, which gave equal power to both genders. I was pleased to see that parity, even as I finished my meal.

 

“What’s the meaning of this?” a gray-haired man demanded.

 

Succinctly, the colonel summarized what I’d told her, then she added, “We need to vote at once as to whether we’re sending aid.”

 

A round, motherly-looking woman with fine blond hair put her fingers to her mouth in alarm. “If the Muties have organized, it won’t be long before they march on us.”

 

“My thoughts exactly,” the colonel said.

 

They debated for a while. With a full stomach and an aching heart, I didn’t attend to the proceedings. It only mattered what they decided, not how they came to consensus. Tegan slipped up beside me, looking determined. Wordless, she indicated my wound and I offered my arm for her to treat. I bit back a curse as the cleansing liquid trickled over the scratches, deep runnels across the top of my arm, adding a counterpoint to the healed scars on my inner forearms, courtesy of the enclave. I was proud of those six scars still, though maybe I shouldn’t be.

 

When she was finished, she smeared salve on me and bandaged the injury with quiet efficiency. Then she whispered, “Fade won’t let me treat him.”

 

“Let me try.” Once, he’d permitted me to do so. I didn’t know whether he would, now.

 

Tegan handed me her supplies and I crept over to where Fade sat, propped against the wall. The ongoing debate washed over me, bits of argument about the viability of offering support to a settlement with whom they had no such defensive accord, only trade agreements. Then the counter-argument came, mostly about how if Salvation fell, Soldier’s Pond would be next. I stopped listening again as I stilled. Fade opened his eyes, dark and wary in the candlelight. The flickering shadows painted his face hollow beneath his cheekbones.

 

“Your shoulder will fester if it’s not cleaned and wrapped,” I said softly.

 

His flinch was nearly imperceptible, then he pushed out a breath. “I’d prefer you to do it.”

 

Happiness sang inside me. He still trusted me more than anyone else, whatever his other problems might be. “Then brace. It will sting, but I’ll make it fast.”

 

And I did. Much as I would’ve liked to touch him more, I kept our contact quick and impersonal. He hissed when the antiseptic ran into the punctures, but he didn’t move other than to curl his fists. He shut his eyes, his throat working, not against the pain, I didn’t think. By the time I finished, he wore a sheen of cold sweat on his brow.

 

“Did it hurt that much?” I asked.

 

“No.” His fists came to rest on his thighs and he wouldn’t look at me. “When you touch me—when anyone touches me—I’m back there, in the pens. I feel it all over again.”

 

“We’ll work out a way to fix it,” I promised.

 

“How? This is why I told you we can’t be together. I wasn’t strong enough to keep them from taking me and I’m not strong enough to shake this off. I can’t—”

 

“You can,” I cut in. “Maybe not today or tomorrow. But Tegan’s doing better. She said you need time … and I have it to offer. I promise we’ll figure it out.”

 

As his head swung my way, his dark eyes burned into me. “Why?”

 

“Because I love you.” It was easy to say it this time now that I understood what it meant. Then I quoted his own words back to him. “Not just when it’s easy. All the time.”

 

“No more deals with Stalker?” That told me he still cared; despite the pain, his feelings for me hadn’t changed.

 

“He won’t touch me again. Whatever’s at stake, I’ll find another way.”

 

“If you had any idea how much I want to hold you—”

 

“I’m not going anywhere, Fade. You’re my partner. I choose you. I always will.”

 

After that, I simply sat beside him, listening to him breathe. It wasn’t enough, but it was more than he’d let me do before. Step by step, he would let me back in. My eyes closed and I tipped my head back against the wall. Stalker jostled me eventually—and by the angle of the light, a few hours had passed. They must’ve talked until nearly dawn.

 

The colonel finally said, “No more discussion. It’s time to vote.”

 

“Seconded,” said the gray-haired man.

 

“All in favor of sending reinforcements, say aye and raise your hand.”

 

The result came down in our favor, four to two. I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes in relief; until this moment, I hadn’t realized how worried I was that we’d fail. Fortunately Colonel Park paid attention to the world she lived in and was willing to accept change even when it didn’t mean good things for her town. I wished the elders in the enclave had been more like her.

 

But it still wasn’t as fast as I would’ve liked because then they had to debate how many men they could afford to send without critically crippling Soldier’s Pond. The endless talking was making me antsy, so I rolled into my blankets and went to sleep. I figured somebody would nudge me awake when it was time to move. This time there were no nightmares at least.

 

By the way my body felt, it couldn’t have been more than an hour before Tegan touched my shoulder. “It’s settled. We’re taking fifty soldiers back to Salvation.”

 

For the number of Freaks we faced, it wasn’t nearly enough, but I couldn’t complain when they were endangering their own citizens to help us. Shoving the hair out of my face, I rolled to my feet and collected my belongings. Everyone else was assembling outside. Fade and Stalker stood on opposite sides of the yard, and I didn’t think I was imagining the narrow stare Fade offered the other boy. Though he’d claimed he didn’t care what I did or with who, obviously that wasn’t true.

 

Morgan stood at the head of the men given to our cause. In the dawn light, I saw that he had long dark hair, lightly sprinkled with silver, but his face didn’t look as old as I’d first thought. He had lines at the corners of his eyes, but they came from humor, I thought, or sunshine, not the endless march of years. His mouth turned up at the edges as if he found it difficult not to smile, an expression echoed by the warm gray of his eyes; they were like smoke, warm and changeable.

 

Right now, he was giving orders to his men. “Infantry in good condition can cover thirty to forty miles a day on foot. We have to move at least that fast in order to prove of any help to Salvation. If any among you thinks he can’t sustain that pace for whatever reason, speak now.”

 

“I’ve got a bum foot,” a man said. “Broke it a few years back and it didn’t heal right. I’d only slow you down.”

 

“Thanks for your honesty.” Morgan turned to someone I took for his second in command.

 

The big, burly man responded by calling out another name, and a new soldier took the dismissed one’s place in the formation. Unlike the guard in Salvation, these men were well trained. I could tell by their body language that they had drilled together extensively and fought real battles beyond the walls. Many of them had Freak scars, claw marks on faces or forearms, visible badges of their courage and skill. Touched by her valor and willingness to risk trouble for our sakes, I strode over to the colonel.

 

“I can’t thank you enough, sir. You don’t know what this means for us.”

 

“God grant it’s sufficient,” she said, “but it’s all we can do. Otherwise we’ll be too weak to defend, should the Muties turn their ambitions west.”

 

It’ll happen, I thought.

 

But it wasn’t the time for dire proclamations. Soon thereafter, we moved out, passing from Soldier’s Pond in a concerted lockstep. I’d never traveled with such a large group before, topside or down below. It seemed risky, but there was no avoiding it. We’d slaughter any scouting parties we encountered, unless the horde itself was rolling west. Letting my feet join their cadence was easy, but to my surprise, Morgan summoned me to the front of the column.

 

“I need to know how many we’re up against.”

 

“Honestly,” I said, “I’m not even sure I can count that high.”

 

Morgan laughed at first, probably thinking I was exaggerating but my sober expression assured him I wasn’t kidding. Then he swore. “Give me your best estimate.”

 

I thought about that. “I saw five hundred beans once. I’m pretty sure there are more.” Then I described the nightmare of the horde encamped on the plain, along with the pockets of human prisoners and the multiple fires burning.

 

He made an odd gesture, touching his forehead, heart, left shoulder, then right. I had no idea what it meant but he seemed to take comfort in it. “I almost wish you hadn’t told me that.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because now I’m the bastard keeping the truth from his men. If I tell them, they’ll head back to Soldier’s Pond. They’ll know, just as I do, that this battle can’t be won with our forces.”

 

Sour sickness roiled in my stomach, born of fear, not because I feared dying, but because Morgan was right and I hated the idea of letting everyone down. For my new home, I wanted to do the impossible; I just didn’t know how.

 

“Maybe we can create enough havoc to allow Salvation to evacuate.” I was proud of that word. I’d seen it first in the ruins, then later Mrs. James, the teacher who had been the bane of my existence, had explained in a superior tone what it meant.

 

“Hit and run is our only option, but for the Muties, the woods are home ground. Guerilla tactics may prove difficult.”

 

“I can help with that,” Stalker said.

 

I hadn’t noticed him joining us, which was a testament to how quiet he could be. Morgan turned to him with interest. “How so?”

 

“I know the terrain fairly well and I’m a good tracker. I can help by laying snares, planning ambushes. We can’t fight them head-on, but I have experience with whittling down a superior enemy.”

 

He must be referring to battles he’d fought in the ruins, destroying gangs with greater numbers until the Wolves were the most powerful force in the area. Overall, Stalker didn’t seem proud of that experience, but I wasn’t sorry he had it if it meant better odds for us at Salvation. He should realize that he could be proud of his skills without taking satisfaction in every bad thing he’d ever done. There were dark times from my enclave days that I would rather forget, now that I understood just how cruel our rules had been. Morgan listened to Stalker’s comments attentively, nodding and occasionally offering a question or suggestion. After a few moments, I fell behind to join Tegan, who was bearing up better than I could’ve imagined.

 

“They have some good ideas,” she said.

 

“Stalker does, anyway. Sounds as if he’s fought against long odds before.”

 

Her eyes distant, she nodded. “The Wolves went up against the Kings right after they took me. The Kings had more people, but Stalker cut them down. Half of his members were cubs, but he taught them to be merciless and cunning.”

 

Thinking back, I recalled how my hesitation about fighting brats had led to Fade and me being captured. I just hadn’t expected them to fight that hard or that well. Not at their age. If Stalker could focus that experience on defending Salvation, then maybe all wasn’t lost. I exhaled as we marched on, glad to have this burden off my shoulders.

 

My skill didn’t lie in planning battles, only in fighting them.

 

 

 

 

 

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