So was Boy23. Judging by the food smeared on his face, Stone had managed to get some mushroom paste into him. Shed worried about what the brat would eat, as he didnt even have all his teeth. They could chew meat for him, of course, but he needed milk, too, and she wasnt a Breeder.
But they had more pressing worries at the moment.
We need a plan, she whispered in his ear.
He didnt move, just listened while she outlined her strategy. After a curt nod, he leaned over and brushed his lips against her cheek as he had once before. Because this moment might never come again and because she wanted no regrets later, she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face to hers. It was a blind kiss, born of silent, hopeless longing.
His breath caught, and then he kissed her back, properly, because he knew howof course he didand she wouldve hated the why of it, except that his mouth was hot and fierce and sweet as clean water. She touched her mouth with wondering fingers as he pushed to his feet. In accordance with the master plan, she wedged herself at the back of the small room with Boy23 in her arms, out of range of Freak fangs, out of range of his weapon, even on the backswing.
His breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the confined space; she could hear his fear as clearly as the claws scrabbling against the metal. The door handle rattled. Beyond, the banging increased; they must be able to hear movement. Good ears, then. Probably good noses as well.
You can do it, she told Stone silently, and as if in response to her urging, he took his position, then unlocked and flung open the door. She couldnt see how many there were, but he killed one cleanly, as if he had been practicing the movements in his head. Just as hed said the night before: pierce, pull, pierce. His motions were economical, and he went for eyes and throats. Not fancy, as hed said, but effective. Once Stone blinded them by slashing sideways across their faces, they frenzied, turning on one another in howling rageand because they couldnt see what they were attacking. Then he killed them out of mercy, not fear, no rage in his motions, but instead with an awful tenderness, as if these were creatures worthy of his pity. At the back of the pack, one Freak turned and ran, as if it sensed there was something different about its prey.
That behavior puzzled her. Thimble had never heard of self-preservation in a Freak before. Stone took a step.
Let it go, she said.
They couldnt permit themselves to be drawn into a trap. But the change in behavior worried her. A Freak who displayed such intelligence constituted an enormous threat, as it invalidated everything the enclave believed about the monsters. It also meant the creature was capable of more than blind hunger; the thing might even be planning for their next encounter. A chill ran down Thimbles back and she clutched Boy23 close.
Fetid blood spattered the broken stones; she smelled it, rotten, like bad meat, but also sweet and metallic. Until this nightmare started, her world had been comprised of things, not actions, except for those that created things. She longed for the safety of her workshop, but it was no more. Now she must find another way to live.
At least Im not alone.
Thimble pulled herself upright using the shelves, breathing through her mouth to block the stench of their putrid blood. Next to her Boy23 chattered; rest and food had cheered him considerably. With chubby fists, he pulled at her hair. Such a dear pain. The pile of corpses stood nearly to her knees outside the doorway, and before them, Stonewith her weapon in his hand. The elders would have said he was too dumb to survive such a catastrophe, and she too weak, but theyd proven them wrong. Together, they were whole. Together, they had a chance.
He reached across the carnage to take his offspring. Even though she had no claim to him, Boy23 felt like her brat too.
Its safe, he said. And you were right. Using the threshold to keep them from surrounding me? Genius.
Youre big enough to block the doorway. It was a good guess.
You knew it would work.
I hoped. Shed watched the Hunters train more than once, because that had been her friend Deuces favorite pastime. During those sparring matches, Thimble often predicted the winner from analyzing fighting styles. Sometimes shed plan counter strategies in her head.
Bah, Boy23 babbled, waving his arms in the air. Bah bah bah. Bah!
A single step sent anguish shooting up toward her knee. The long hike the day before had taken its toll. Exhaling a staccato breath, she knelt to fasten her brace, though her ankle was nearly too swollen for her to secure the straps. Determined, she ignored the pain and tightened them further.
I wont slow him down. He needs me. I have to be strong for Stone and Boy23.
He slung his pack over his shoulder, and then hers, before she could protest. Then she decided not to make an issue of it. He was stronger; she was smarter. If they played to their strengths, they would make it. So better not to insist when it would be all she could do to keep moving her own weight forward, let alone her share of the supplies. Stone set his weapon against the wall as Thimble moved toward the doorway. Without asking permission, he wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her as if she weighed nothing at all. He spun her out of the closet and into the tunnel with the sheer physical power that had made him a popular Breeder.
I dont want you stumbling over those, he said softly.
Ah. The corpses in the dark. She was just clumsy enough to do it, too, and wind up face-first in reeking blood. Then her stink would draw all Freaks within sniffing distance. Best not to test her luck. But she also luxuriated in his strength; the arm curled around her felt sure and safe.
Too soon, he let her go. It took the pleasurable chills much longer to die away, and at least good feelings distracted from the steady throb of her weak foot. Crippled. Malformed. Flawed. Once, shed overheard the Wordkeeper discussing her with Whitewall. It had been just before her naming ceremony, and shed been so excited that she had sneaked up on them during a private meeting to discuss her prospects. Shed never forgotten his words.
I think shes worth her keep, the elder had said. Our predecessors chose well.
The Wordkeeper had nodded. Her deformity doesnt affect her hands, so shes able to work. Useless as anything but a Builder, of course.
At least she shows aptitude and desire, Whitewall had said.
Unlike most brats. Do you think she knows how close she came to being Freak food?
She hadnt, until that moment. Thimble crept away, cold with terror and shame. In silence, she wept with her knuckles jammed against her teeth. Thereafter, the scene of her birth haunted her. She could see it in her minds eye, as if shed been watching, gazing down on the squalling little red-faced thing. The elder who ruled before would have studied her foot, turning it this way, and that. She saw the discussion that took place, an argument, really, and then someone with a modicum of kindness prevailed. They decided not to leave her out in the tunnels to die.