Outpost (Razorland, #2)

by Ann Aguirre

It was true … but here, physical strength didn’t matter. Neither did training. They wanted us to learn new roles and forget that we’d once led different lives. I found it tough, as I’d loved being a Huntress. Yet Salvation offered no similar role for girls; I couldn’t even wear my own clothes.

We took every opportunity to keep our skills sharp because, deep down, I couldn’t believe the guns would last forever. Life down below had taught me to believe in nothing as much as my own abilities; Stalker’s upbringing in the Topside gangs had given him a similar philosophy.

It was like he was asking them to kill him, she’d said, shaking her head in disbelief. But I reckon love can do strange things to a body. Love sounded terrible if it made you so weak, you couldn’t survive without it.

but so much strangeness made me feel small and stupid.

That was incredibly frustrating because I wasn’t a brat anymore; I’d passed my trials and become an adult. The things I had survived had moved me beyond childhood, and I had wisdom to offer, no matter how many years I had.

And that was why I met him in secret. He understood. Stalker wouldn’t let me forget who I was.

“You all right, dove?” I wasn’t; I longed for Fade and I hated lessons and I missed being valued for my skill. As if in consolation, Stalker tipped my chin up and tried to kiss me. I sprang away with an aggravated sigh. Though I wasn’t interested in more than training, he had great determination that he’d change my mind someday. I couldn’t see it happening. If he thought I’d ever breed with him, he’d better be ready for an argument that ended with my knives in his gut.

on the wall, when Longshot had killed its companion, the surviving Freak cried out, and that protest made me wonder if the monsters felt, like we did, if they could miss the ones taken from them.

I’d run until I buried the horror. Nassau hadn’t been prepared; they hadn’t believed the Freaks could be a large-scale threat. I tried not to imagine the fear of their brats or the way their Breeders must have screamed. Their Hunters had failed. We wouldn’t. We couldn’t. We had to get home and warn the elders.

With Fade’s help, I scrambled up the rest of the way and saw the world above for the first time. It stole my breath. I spun in a slow circle, trembling at the size of it. I tilted my head back and saw overhead a vast field of black, spattered with brightness. I wanted to crouch down and cover my head. It was too much space, and horror overwhelmed me. “Easy,” Fade said. “Look down. Trust me.”

During my waking hours, I could be calm and in control, but at night, my fears crept in on quiet feet, haunting my sleep. Sometimes my past felt like a heavy chain about my neck, but a Huntress wouldn’t let it prevent her from moving forward and taking action.

I couldn’t even bring myself to dislike them for their careless prejudice. They knew only safety and comfort. These brats were smug and self-assured, confident of their place in the world. In some respects I envied them. They didn’t have nightmares, or if they did, they weren’t about real things. Most had never seen a monster, let alone killed one. They’d never seen a Freak feeding on someone who died in the enclave, and then was cast out like garbage. They didn’t know how ruined the world was beyond the walls; they’d never felt claws tearing through their flesh. Small wonder I had nothing in common with these Salvation young.

Things that happened in the enclave—that I hadn’t questioned at the time—troubled me now. I wondered how bad a person I was for not realizing there were problems sooner. Sometimes worry and regret balled up in my stomach like a sickness. I killed my first man when I was twelve years old.

In hindsight, I should have smelled the stench of the elders’ dishonesty, but I hadn’t paid close enough attention.

Though I had been in the light for months, the shadows still troubled me.

I liked stories, but I didn’t enjoy puzzling them out on my own. To my mind, books offered both entertainment and reward, but the recitation was best left to those who excelled at it. Like Fade.

It wasn’t right that I could make my own way and choose my own course, until I reached the safety we’d dreamed of—and then it could be taken away from me. That was enormously unfair. I’d once said as much to Longshot, who shook his head and laughed. That’s life, kid.

I knew all the rules in the enclave. Nothing here made sense. Everything I thought was right, people told me I shouldn’t even consider. Day after day, they told me I was wrong—that I couldn’t be me and still be a proper girl.

I didn’t understand why only men fought in Salvation when women could be just as strong, just as fierce about protecting their homes. It was a ridiculous waste of resources, and after growing up down below, where we made use of everything—sometimes four times over—that attitude struck me as completely nonsensical.

“In all enclaves, there are those who sire brats to keep the population stable, the best-looking, brightest, and strongest.” She knew that, of course. “But everybody can’t do so or folks would starve. I’m trained for fighting and protecting, so I’d never do anything that could make me unfit for duty.” “Oh, child.” Her eyes went liquid with sympathy. I had no idea why, staring at her, puzzled. Surely they didn’t permit just anybody to mix their blood. That couldn’t end well. People would wind up stupid and squinty. “I’m sure that’s how it was where you lived,” she said at last. “But it’s different here. People fall in love and get married. They start a family if they’re so inclined.” So when Stalker started going on about how I was the only thing he liked about Salvation, it made me twitchy. The rules were different here, and I didn’t want him to get any ideas about us finishing up that sad, empty house and filling it with our brats. The notion made me clammy with dread; I’d rather kill Freaks any day.

Momma Oaks had told me that Longshot always captained one of the squads that ensured the safety of the fields. I wanted him to choose me for his team so bad I could taste it. He knew we were capable fighters; he’d seen our bloody weapons when he picked us up in the wild. And he understood that we weren’t tame, Salvation-bred brats. In fact, he was the only elder in the whole town who acted like he had more than a grain of sense. I suspected it was because of the supply runs. They’d taught him more about the world than the others could learn living within the safety of these walls. While they kept danger out, they also locked the ignorance in. “They act like Freaks can’t change,” Stalker said quietly. “Like these walls are magic, not wood, and nothing bad could ever get in.” “We got in.” “But we look human.” I caught the faint stress on the word “look” and I frowned at him. “We’re still human. We’re just not like the rest of them.”

But I’d get weak sitting all day; work kept the body strong.

“That’s enough,” Fade said softly. You won’t speak to me, but you’ll rescue me. It made me angrier that his presence could drive them away whereas I had to prove myself with my fists.

I had no doubt the teacher would use that time to torment me in ways that would make Silk proud. It didn’t matter. I knew my own worth. A Huntress didn’t rely on a bunch of brats for her sense of self, but on that last day, as class let out, I ran my fingers over the scars beneath my sleeves, reassuring myself I hadn’t dreamed it. Salvation had saved me, but its protection came with restrictions. Its rules didn’t permit me to be myself. Yet I’d been part of a community that needed me once. Maybe I would be again. Someday. Somehow.

No wonder everyone looked so fit; it was a land of unimaginable plenty, and at mealtimes, I minded the rules much less.

When I first met her, I’d thought that the enclave would punish anyone who treated a girl that way. But that was reflex, wanting to think the best of them. With the benefit of time and distance, I realized something; safety only applied to those who were born among us and who followed the rules blindly. Just witness how they treated Fade and a Builder named Banner. At first, I’d envied her apparent closeness with Fade, but then the elders killed the girl over her quiet discontent with their leadership; they made an example of her and framed it as a suicide. Terrible things happened down below too. So I couldn’t lie to her. “If we found a female in the tunnels who was good only for breeding … if she fought that role, the Hunters would’ve cut her throat and left her for the Freaks. The enclave wouldn’t have wasted resources training her. So, no, we wouldn’t have beaten you, Tegan. My people would’ve killed you.” Her breath caught. “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t end up down below.” “It is, actually.” Because it was unlikely she’d have survived the tunnels long enough to run into one of our patrols. It still amazed me that Fade had done so. I could see her struggling with the revelation, hands clenched on the edge of the counter where we’d stacked the doctor’s clean implements. “But … you’re not like the rest of the Hunters, then. You protected me.” “That was after I left the enclave.” “So you’re saying you’d have killed me. You, Deuce.” Tegan met my gaze, her brown eyes beg...

Though I didn’t like to insult her, I thought her god had done a terrible job keeping his people safe. Given the current state of the world, it seemed far more likely the Freaks were his favored creatures.

These days, Fade wasn’t around enough to share anything with me; an ache curled through me like a metal hook.

I’d survived worse. The brats could mock me. Women could whisper. There would be bad memories, more nightmares, and the threat of Freaks outside the walls. I’d endure, no matter what.

For a while we stood watch together in silence. This was my favorite part of the evening because, to Longshot, I wasn’t wrong or strange or in the way. With him it was all right to be a girl who didn’t fit.

“It can be lonely, dangerous work, Deuce. Hang in there, get your education, and I’ll see what I can do when the time comes.” I sighed. “It’s hard. You’re the only one who listens to what I have to say.” Longshot dropped a gentle, comforting arm around my shoulders. “Then speak louder, girl. Don’t let them put out your spark.” For a long time, I stood in the circle of his arm and counted the stars. I ran out of numbers before brightness, and that felt like a promise of better days to come.

“At first,” Longshot had told me, “I went because Salvation needed me to be brave. Eventually, I continued because I enjoyed seeing the world … and finally, I kept at it because I didn’t have anybody to miss me if something went wrong.” “I’d miss you,” I replied, and he ruffled my hair.

At first, down below, that meant watching each other’s back and trusting he’d fight to save me. When we came Topside, the bond acquired more emotional depth, an attachment that made me crave his touch and his company.

“Deuce,” he said. The cool formality in his voice made something inside me curl up and whimper. If I had a title, like the teacher did, he’d be using it. And I didn’t understand why. I barely remembered coming into town, but he hadn’t been like this with me. No, the chill settled in later. There had been some occasional reserve on his part, of course, but not ice. Not permanent silence. Unfortunately, I liked looking at him every bit as much as I ever had, which wasn’t fitting for a Huntress. Such instincts came from my Breeder side, weakness passed through my dam—which had caused me trouble with other Hunters down below. It was dreadful suffering such impulses when I needed to be brave and tough. I didn’t want to think about how nice it was when he put his arm around me, or how I’d fallen into his kisses with the same delight I took in a hot bath. At first, I was reluctant, but with care and patience, Fade taught me that not all contact had to be martial, and now I missed his mouth on mine.

“Haven’t you seen enough fighting?” His tone made it seem like there was something wrong with me, like I should be glad to do nothing but attend school and sew with Momma Oaks. “It’s what I was raised to do. It’s what I’m good at.” I squared my shoulders, determined not to let him make me feel bad, even if my behavior disappointed him. His next words filled me with hope. “You’re still my partner. I won’t let you go out there without someone you trust.” And I did trust him, no matter the problems between us. Some of my inner ice melted. “Come on then.”

Yet sometimes being a friend meant letting people do things that hurt, like putting distance between you, just because it made them happy.

Single men who didn’t have homes of their own stayed in the barracks on the west side, near enough to the walls that they could post more guards if necessary. Since I’d been in Salvation, it hadn’t been; standard numbers had been sufficient to discourage Freak incursions. I should have felt better about that. Maybe I was just one of those people who couldn’t rest easy unless things went catastrophically wrong. Whatever the reason, I couldn’t rid myself of this foreboding. The problems we’d seen from the changed Freaks would reach Salvation in time. It was only a matter of whether it was sooner or later.

they shared a core of deep-seated animosity, but they both seemed determined to fight at my side this summer. Deep down, I understood I could only have one partner. Part of me didn’t wholly understand that. Why couldn’t I be friends with both? They each brought something different to the table, and their combat styles weren’t the same. This isn’t about fighting, a little voice said. But, unfortunately, it went away as fast as it came, and left me feeling foolish.

Even now I found his age marvelous and astonishing. With good food and fresh air, I might live that long too, provided the Freaks didn’t get me. Which made my forthcoming request even less comprehensible when you got right down to it, but I had been reared to protect others. I felt less than whole if I wasn’t living up to my own inner expectations. You could take the Huntress out of the enclave, but it didn’t lessen her need to fight.

“It won’t be a popular decision,” Longshot said then, “but it would be criminal foolishness to waste talents such as those. If your friends fight half as well, I’d be honored to have all of you on my team.” Pride blazed in me. This was the first time I’d felt I could be happy in Salvation, like they might permit me to use my true skills.

Only a brat took constant handouts without protest.

Muttering, I pulled it back over my head, and Fade did up my buttons. I could tell it was him by the warmth that prickled over my back. Down below, he touched me first for comfort, and then, like he drew solace back from my skin. Topside, he went from an arm around my shoulders to tasting sweetness on my lips. I was attuned to Fade’s hands as I never had been with anyone else. “I have to get back to the smithy.” Stalker brushed my cheek with his fingertips in passing as he went, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Fade. His mouth tightened at that touch, and his jaw clenched. The two events connected in my head; maybe his distance had nothing to do with how he felt about Tegan, and everything to do with Stalker and me. The separation had started well before our arrival here. The more Stalker showed preference for my company, the more Fade withdrew. I’d thought Fade was still mad at me because the Freaks killed his old friend Pearl—and we couldn’t save her. Stalker had been the enemy in the ruins … and after we escaped from his gang with Tegan, he hunted us, using Pearl as bait. The Freaks attacked before we fought a second time, however, and turned Stalker into an unlikely ally. Fade blamed Stalker for Pearl’s death, and I’d suspected he didn’t like me training with the other boy for that same reason. Now I wondered if his aloofness might be more personal. I’d never know if I didn’t ask. “Do you have to go right back?” It was the first time in weeks that I’d tried to breach hi...

Action served me better than words, and I didn’t know how to express my dissatisfaction. I’d stumble and embarrass myself, but even so, that had to be better than endless distance.

“I just can’t be around you all the time. It’s too hard.” “What is?” That made no sense. “Seeing you with him.”

“You were mine before,” he said softly. “But somewhere along the way, I lost you. And now you’re his.” That raised my ire, as precious little could have. “I wasn’t yours, and I’m not his, either. I’m a Huntress, Fade, not an old knife that can be traded.”

But I still felt Fade and I weren’t connecting on the right level. His meaning remained opaque, like a shape I could make out at the bottom of a murky river, only I didn’t know it was a monster until it lunged up at me. I had that same kind of uneasiness right then; I hated feeling stupid. “Sharing … what?” I remembered Stalker saying he thought I wanted him to touch me—and that was why he’d spent so much time training with me. I’d put that to rest, hadn’t I? Did Fade think I wanted Stalker’s hands on me too? If so, I couldn’t imagine how the opposite gender managed to get out of bed in the morning. They might be lovely to look at, but clear thinking wasn’t their strong point. Once more, I’d strive to make it clear only Fade had that kind of magic. He frowned, like he suspected me of being difficult on purpose. “You.” “He’s not my partner.” This time, I used the word Fade had once before, meaning something different and deeper than just the person who guarded your back in a fight. It had an emotional context too, something I couldn’t spell out, but knew deep within my bones instead. “You’re … not with him?” His hesitation irritated me, as I’d never once lied to him. When we were stranded in the wilderness and I was dreaming of Silk, who told me to keep the fire burning, I didn’t tell Fade why because he’d have thought I was crazy, but I never lied. “We’re friends.” “He doesn’t kiss you?” Just one time in the woods when he caught me by surprise. Since then, I’d gotten bette...

“So you felt … glowy about me, even then?” “‘Glowy.’” He repeated the word with an amusement that I should have found embarrassing. “That works. And yes. I have for the longest time.” His surety summoned such warmth, as if I’d kindled a campfire in my belly, bright enough to banish the long weeks of doubt and confusion. He laced his fingers through mine and settled our joined hands on his knee, but he didn’t attempt anything more. Just as well. I wasn’t ready; but no wonder Momma Oaks was concerned. If all the girls Topside knew this about kissing, they probably had to worry about new brats popping up all over the place. “It’s normal to enjoy being close,” I said, trying the idea out. “I think so. Not that I’m an expert. I don’t feel this way about everyone.” My brows went down. “I should hope not.” This, I thought. He was afraid I had this with Stalker. I was just figuring out this was what the other boy wanted from me, only of my own free will. Not as a nasty chore forced on me. I had no doubt he’d bred to keep the Wolf population up, but it couldn’t have felt like this. “I don’t want this to be a secret thing,” he said then. “People should know.” “What?” “That you’re mine.” I bristled a little at hearing it phrased that way. “Fade. This doesn’t change anything. I still belong to myself, and while I choose to share this with you, it doesn’t mean you own me.” “I’m not saying I do.” His voice rang with frustration, like there was some crucial, hidden component between us I...

It seemed best not to meddle with the balance—or maybe I was just being a coward. I had to balance the weight carefully so I didn’t crack.

At some point, one Wordkeeper must have decided it was better to invent rules arbitrarily than to reveal his own lack of knowledge. There were reasons for everything, no doubt, but I would never know them. That way of life was lost to me.

His presence killed my humor quick because guilt sank its fangs into my gut and wouldn’t shake loose. Possibly, I had given him reason to think I felt strongly about him … in ways that led to kissing. Sneaking out to meet him, where we’d talked about our mutual misery and contemplated the idea of running away together—how I wished I had never done it. I should have stuck to sparring. Those nights felt like promises broken now. “These past few nights, your window has been latched,” he said softly. “What am I to take from that, dove?” I didn’t fear his anger, but I would regret losing his friendship if it came to that, because he had proven to be fierce, loyal, and steadfast. Nonetheless, it was time to stop avoiding this talk. “I can’t meet you at night anymore.” “Why not?” Surely he knew, but he wanted to make me say it. “I—” “Stop sniffing around.” Fade set his hand on my shoulder. “She’s with me.” I stole a glance at the other guards, but they were too busy watching Longshot’s argument to pay attention. Thankfully so. I’d die if I forfeited their respect over such a ridiculous issue, over jealous boys and feelings. “That true?” Stalker’s face seemed oddly frozen under the scars, yet beneath the ice, he gave the unmistakable impression of pain. I hated this, but I nodded. He squared his shoulders and wheeled away, heading to join the guards. Laughter followed, so he must have made some joke. If there was one thing Stalker was good at, it was adapting to new situations. He...