Outpost (Razorland, #2)

by Ann Aguirre

They were stronger than those I’d fought in the ruins, better nourished. They ate well in the wilderness, plenty of big, meaty game, which made me think they had another reason for attacking us. Certainly, we were a food source, but their hate-filled cries told me they viewed us as real enemies. It was a horrifying thought. To them, we are the evil ones. We are the threat that must be exterminated. The idea shook me so much that a Freak pushed me back, unbalancing my stance. Its claw raked a runnel in my stomach. I lost sight of the terrain around me and stumbled over the corpse of its fallen brethren. I landed hard, and my right dagger bounced out of my hand. For this, I thought, I deserve to die. I’d failed in my training. Permitted my thoughts to break my concentration. The shame would kill me if this Freak failed.

“Are you all right?” “Not my most shining moment. But thank you for saving me.” I directed my words to both of them, Stalker standing to one side. He nodded, but didn’t approach, and I ached that I’d driven him away by choosing Fade, that we apparently couldn’t have anything without the kissing. Sometimes I didn’t understand boys at all.

would not leave these men to be desecrated as the others had been. It seemed odd to me that I would find that offensive. After all, down below, we had routinely put our dead out to feed the Freaks. But they had never returned any of our offerings in such a hideous fashion. They ate until they could hold no more and then they left the rest for the tunnel creatures. Perhaps, then, it was the obvious loathing those poor impaled heads represented. I had never thought Freaks capable of strong emotion, other than hunger, but it had become obvious that these were. Once the gates closed behind us, the guards dropped the reinforcing timber. In the time I’d been here, I had never seen the great doors sealed in this way. Which established how unprecedented these attacks were. We’d warned them that the Freaks were changing, but even I didn’t expect these tactics. My heart thumped wildly in my chest, both in reaction to the fight and the alarm at the unknown. It seemed that the Freaks got smarter all the time, but why? Then again, if I could answer that question, I could rule the world. I puffed out a shaky breath and rubbed my hands along my arms. “Any thoughts?” I asked Fade. He shook his head. “If we could somehow study the Freaks, catch one or two and observe them, that might help.” I choked out a shaky laugh. “I’m sure that would go over well with the good folk of Salvation.” Fade trailed a finger down my cheek, and it came away tacky with blood. “You’ll notice I’m not in any hurr...

Fade took my hand, and I drew some comfort from his presence, even if our safe haven had just suffered a tremendous blow. But I wasn’t as unsettled as some, who wept quietly nearby; I had long ago internalized the lesson that safety was an illusion. That was one gift they’d given me down below.

Citizen’s token? I didn’t have one. I exchanged a glance with Fade, who shook his head. Maybe it was age related, and we needed more birthdays before we’d be granted the right to speak in a public assembly. That didn’t seem right. Age had nothing to do with how well my brain worked.

What was the good of having such a fine home if you weren’t willing to fight for it?

This town didn’t need another normal girl in a fancy dress with pretty curls. Whether they knew it or not, they needed me.

We were teaching these people what it meant to be steadfast—to do one’s duty even in the face of possible extinction. Maybe a few of them would choose not to cower behind their walls after this; and if the growing season came to fruition, it would be because of us.

People needed what they needed.

Salvation needed internal strife like it needed a hole in the outer wall.

“You can’t be other than who you are,” Momma Oaks finished. “And that means doing what you think is right. I understand, child. Truly I do.”

I wondered if anyone had ever done anything for him because they wanted to. It made me regret our lack of closeness because I couldn’t offer comfort without upsetting Fade. I wasn’t altogether sure why that should be so, but they had territorial instincts like all young animals, I supposed.

And who was to say that memory of a delicious dinner wouldn’t hold me later, reminding me why I was fighting? Nobody would hear from me that the cooks and builders didn’t matter. We all had our roles to play.

His grasp felt warm and sure, a certainty in a world full of shifting ground. He was beautiful in a way that hurt me, but it was the sweetest pain I ever knew, better even than the scars I took on my naming day. This ache swelled my heart and made me want to pull his head down to mine, even with the whole town looking on. “I haven’t thanked you for stepping forward with me,” I said. “Don’t thank me for doing what my heart asks, Deuce. I’ll be with you as long as you let me.” Which seemed like an odd thing for him to say. I’d never once asked him to leave me alone, even when I thought he was crazy. But maybe it had to do with his frequent losses. In his heart, I suspected he thought nothing could last forever, not even us. And that one day, I’d go away like his sire and dam had done—or that he’d be sent from me, for some reason we couldn’t yet fathom. I resolved, then, deep in my soul never to let him go. I’d be the one never to leave him. I’d prove to him that some things could be for always—that we could be.

My vision went red at the idea he had been whipping Fade, who had never mentioned a word about it. Didn’t he trust me?

When I came through the front door, the Oakses’ house smelled of home. It was funny I should think such a thing, now that I was leaving for the guard outpost we were establishing in the fields, but the scent of fresh baked bread had become ingrained in my head as synonymous with safety and comfort.

And yet, if we did nothing, then the despicable worm who hurt him wouldn’t pay for his crimes.

“I’d rather you did it.” His tone said he wanted to pretend it never happened, but that wouldn’t make the injuries go away.

This wasn’t like rubbing salve on battle wounds. Those didn’t bother me. These did, because a human—who didn’t have the excuse of mutation, disease, or insanity, whatever ailed the Freaks—had inflicted them.

For the last step, I smoothed healing salve all over, as light as I could. He shuddered a little, but I had no idea if I was hurting him. With my fingertips, I traced each strap mark, each bruise, and by the time I finished, I wanted to find Arlo Jensen and cut him into Freak bait. The mere thought gave me immense satisfaction.

He wouldn’t look at me, as if I had betrayed him. “Fade? Are you mad?” “Not at you.” But it seemed so. “If I hadn’t told her—” “It’s fine,” he snapped. “It’s not. What’s in your head right now?” “I probably had it coming,” he bit out. “Tegan’s fine. You’re fine. Even Stalker seems to get along with his foster dad. And I was smart-mouthed, angry, because—” He gestured between us. Because of us. Because of me. “So it probably had something to do with my attitude.” He shrugged. I was already shaking my head. “No matter what you said to him or how you said it, this wasn’t right. It was his failure, not yours. It wasn’t your fault.” He hid so much, this boy of mine. I took a step toward him and before I could move again, he did, and then he was in my arms. He couldn’t stand for anyone but me to touch him. And so, I held him carefully, wondering if I’d ever hurt him with a casual caress. Not that he would’ve shown me. He had suffered unimaginable pain already, and these scars would add to the many he’d collected over the years. Fade dropped his head just enough, resting his chin on my shoulder, and we stood that way until I heard Momma Oaks moving about in the dining room.

“I’ll never understand why you do this,” she muttered. I cut her a sharp look. “So you wouldn’t fight for your children?”

“He’s important to you.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. James would be proud of me, I thought, for remembering to differentiate by gender. “Is he the reason you’re so set on fighting?” “No,” I said slowly. “I think it’s the other way around.” She laughed quietly. “I’m not surprised to hear that. We’ll be retiring now. Don’t spend so long sparking that you don’t get any sleep.”

Come to think of it, “sparking” was a good word. When he touched me, I did feel like I had bits of light flickering all over my body.

Instead, he propped his elbows on his knees and studied me as if I held all the answers to the mysteries of the universe. That look quickened my pulse.

“This is the last time I’ll be alone with you for a while.” “Could be the whole summer before it happens again,” I agreed. We’d be together, but there wouldn’t be many quiet moments like this one. It’d be impossible to think about sparking while establishing an outpost in the fields. Which made me wonder if I was crazy for volunteering; I could be safe within the walls, spending moments like this one with Fade. There could be moonlight walks and sparking in the swing, whispered secrets and infinite softness. I’d given all that up to live rough and to fight for my life. But I couldn’t deny the Huntress in me. “Then we should make the most of tonight.” Fade stood and offered his hand. I studied him in the diffuse lamplight, seeing how it glazed his raven hair. It fell in shaggy waves around his lean, lovely face. At this point, I knew his features better than my own. A half-smile played at the corner of his mouth, giving him a playful air. But even at play, Fade still exuded that dangerous edge, as if he were a wild thing tamed only to my hand. I drew in a soft, shuddering breath, then went to him, and put my fingers in his. He drew me in slowly, whether because of his back, or so as to avoid spooking me, I couldn’t say. So close, I could see the dark fringe of his eyelashes. His eyes were so dark, they held no other hues, but as I gazed up, I noticed his irises had a faint violet ring. I’d never seen such a look, full of melting tenderness and absolute adoration. I think I ...

The sky was dark when I woke. I had a crick in my neck from holding Fade all night, but he slept on, as deep in dreams as I’d ever seen him. In these quiet, covert moments, he was wholly mine. No defenses, no pretense. And so I brushed his hair back, then traced the elegant line of his brows. His eyelids fluttered, and if I could’ve kissed them without waking him, I would have. I restrained the impulse because I sensed it had been a long time since he rested this well.

I woke Fade with a hand on his shoulder, and to my pleasure, he didn’t reach for his weapons. He only gazed up at me with a drowsy, questioning smile. I saw the moment he recognized me, and his eyes brightened. “I could get used to this,” he whispered. Vaguely embarrassed by the melting warmth in my stomach, I shot him a look. “Don’t.”

Fade took his turn first, bathing with a cloth in the kitchen. I did not stand in the sitting room, imagining the fabric tracing over his chest.

“Nervous?” Fade walked beside me, matching his strides to mine. “A little,” I admitted. “This will be worse than anything we’ve faced in Salvation … and we’ve been living soft for a while.” I hadn’t forgotten the hardship of the tunnels or scavenging in the ruins while hiding from the gangs. Nor had the privation of the long journey dimmed in my mind. But, perversely, I took pride in what we’d suffered because we’d come through with only our weapons and our teamwork. He nodded. “No shelter, but the weather will be good. It’s warmer each day.” “I’m more concerned about establishing the outpost on a defensible site.” Fade thought about that and then said, “Longshot seems like he knows what he’s doing.” “That’s the only bright spot.” If they’d put someone else in charge of this project, I doubted it had any chance of success.

If Stalker thought I was better than our fellows, then they didn’t rate with him at all. I shouldn’t have smiled at the implicit insult, but in truth, I didn’t think highly of our comrades, either. If they’d been Hunters at heart, they would’ve stepped forward of their own free will. Yet they didn’t deserve to die for their timidity.

“We have to work with them.” “There might be hope for some,” I said softly. “Brats can be trained.” Both boys took a second look and Stalker laughed. “Old brats.”

“It’s gonna be tough,” he went on, “but we stick it out or the town starves. That’s a fact. Them Muties have figured out how to hurt us, and we can’t let that stand. It’s been a long while since we had a proper war, but I’m afraid it may come to that.”

Maybe it was just the normal progression of the day, but as it grew brighter, I could almost believe that luster meant something special—that we would succeed—and the damage wouldn’t be catastrophic.

None of the townsfolk came to wish us well as we went out to protect the fields. It was just as well; it would have made leaving harder for those who were, at best, reluctant.

I found constant beauty in this new world; it had not yet become familiar to me, and I marveled that natives could find so little to enchant the eye.

For a Huntress, waiting could be infinitely worse than fighting.

To his credit, Frank wasn’t rigid with dread like the rest. I didn’t know if that meant he was brave or foolish. Some Hunters were both in equal measure, but Silk once told me that only an idiot feared nothing. Smart Hunters knew when situations were dangerous, and made the choice to risk their lives for the good of the enclave.

Just looking at him filled me with warmth, but I didn’t let the feeling distract me.

“If that’s true, then we’re doomed.”

if I never saw a fish again, that would be just fine.

“So that’s why we brought her. At least she can cook.” A third snorted. “Bet that’s not all she’s good for.” Fade froze. Before I could tell him to ignore it, he had his knife against the man’s throat. “If I hear another word like that out of you, we’ll be one man short before we see a single Freak.” “Stand down, son.” Longshot put a cautioning hand on his shoulder, and after several deep breaths, Fade stepped back, his blade dropping to his side. “I’ll handle it. She’s your girl, I know, but these are my men.”

There had been Hunters down below who were quick with a Breeder joke. If I let them get to me, then I was as soft as they said, and I didn’t fear any human male. While they might be stronger, they wouldn’t be smarter or faster. “That goes for all of you. This girl fights as well as any man here, and better than some, so I won’t hear any more of that. Is it clear?”

“You can’t threaten to kill everyone who bad-mouths me.” “Why not?” he muttered. “Mostly? Because they’ll start seeing me as your weak spot and they’ll use me to get at you. It doesn’t matter to me what they think of me. Only what you do.” He leaned in and whispered, “I wish I could kiss you.” “Save them up. I’ll take them all at once when you can.” In reply, he brushed his hand over my hair. Shortly thereafter, Stalker and Frank joined us. The conversation grew more general, speculation on what the summer held and anticipation of how hard we’d have to work in the woods tomorrow. Eventually, we rolled into our blankets as true night fell. No nightmares came that night, but they would begin in reality soon enough.

Longshot believed it was better he take the risk than some family man.

He was right, I suspected; I had more in common with him than Fade, but that was the problem. We were too much alike.

That thing—if it was a Freak—could have cut all our throats as we slept.” It could have. It hadn’t. Though it was still the middle of the night, I paced, worry eating me from the inside out. Who the devil knew what they’d do with that lit branch? Maybe it would go out. Maybe nothing bad would happen. How I wished I believed that. As their attacks had shown, they grew more dangerous all the time. Hunger no longer predicted their movements. These Freaks had enough to eat with all the game in the woods. Big game, like deer and moose, offered plenty of raw meat. I’d sampled both at Momma Oaks’s table. For them, this was no longer about food. It was something else. Something scarier.

The only question came in terms of their intentions … what they would do with the flame they’d stolen.

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission?” It was the only saying I recalled from my history lessons, but I couldn’t recall who said it or why. I had an idea it was a famous female warrior, though, which made me like the quote more.

“You won’t make a move without him, huh? That’s embarrassing.” “No,” I said softly. “It just hurts because you wish it was you.” The truth could be brutal.