Yet he wouldnt give up. Not when Thimble and his brat needed him. Right now, she was working her magic to try and save them. He could do no less.
In the warren on the way to the workshop, Thimble met him halfway. Her halting step gave her away before she came into sight, a torch blazing in her hand. He took a step closer to her, as she represented everything he had left. The familiarity of her narrow face with its wide eyes and pointed chin gave him hope; it fluttered in his chest with a tight sweetness. He wanted to reach for her as hed always done, tucking her beneath his arm. He would feel better if he kept Thimble close.
Ive got an idea, she said.
That was her specialty, not his. In fact, he wondered what purpose he could serve, other than making her feel less alone. He could carry things, he supposed. Stone was accustomed to packing two or three brats around, one in each arm, and sometimes one on his back as well. That had made him relatively strong, at least. Her Builder friends had said he had a fitting name, because he was as stupid as the smooth, flat rock his blood had fallen upon in the naming rite. With his free hand, he touched the stone in his pocket for comfort and reassurance.
What can I do?
Quickly, she explained and then handed him the supplies necessary for his part. Because Thimble seemed sure it would work, he didnt waste his breath on doubts. Maybe that was what he could do, then: show blind faith in her abilities, because without them, they were both doomed.
The resistance from the remaining Hunters had fallen silent moments before. Now there were only wet sounds, smacking, chewing, and grunts of pleasure. Wordless, he scrambled up and tied the rope as shed requested. Metal shards and scraps, coils, things he didnt even recognize, she handled with great expertise. It raised his respect further. She was just so smart. He did little more than hold the light or secure something in place that was too heavy for her to manage, but the whole time, he knew how much of a race this was. If they didnt get it done
No point in imagining how things could get worse. The enclave was already in ruins.
They worked tirelessly. If the Hunters hadnt been able to defeat the Freaks, what hope did they have in open combat? Simple. Then they wouldnt fight. A wave of warmth and admiration sparked through him as they completed their preparations. Only Thimble could have looked at the scraps left in the workshop and come up with a scheme to save their skins.
After Stone finished, he handed Boy23 to Thimble; he didnt need to tell her to guard the boy with her life. She would. Shed kept him safe once before. I can do this. His hand trembled when he took the torch from her. Light to drive away the dark.
I wish I could she began.
Stone shook his head. Im fast. Comes from chasing brats all over the place.
He didnt mention her infirmity. Neither did she. Even if hed been that much of a coward, she couldnt finish the job. Theyd be on her in two strides. With great effort, he calmed himself and focused on her dark eyes, gazing up at him with such confidence. Shed always looked at him like that, as if he was a little better than he knew himself to be. Maybe it was because during their brat-hood hed thumped the ones who made fun of her. Soon, they stopped mocking her, at least within his hearing.
The noises drew closer. Feeding soundsteeth tearing flesh. Movement stirred the air and carried a putrid stench. Hed never breathed it in like this before. A couple of times, in his early brat-hood, Freaks had pushed close to the enclave before the Hunters battled them back. There were no Hunters anymore. Just himself, Thimble, and Boy23.
Plus her brilliant traps.
No matter what it meant for his own safety, he couldnt let anything happen to Thimble or Boy23. Somehow, some way, hed get the two of them out of here. He smiled as he straightened, flaming brand in hand. Everything depended on his speed and his ability to remember where theyd laid the snares and trigger blades. His role was simple in comparison to the marvelous, deadly things shed built
and so fast, too. He was bait, and he knew it.
The Freaks and Hunters had been fighting at the barricades. Deeper within, the enclave was laid out in sections: the brat dorm, the kitchen space, bath facilities, the fish pools, the Builder workshop, the common area, the Hunter lounge, and the living quarters for all citizens. The monsters sounded as if theyd reached the common area. Which meant theyd be in the warren leading to the workshop soon.
Almost time, she whispered.
Hide. It was the first time hed taken that tone with her, the same one he used on the brats. Her eyes flared wide, but she obeyed, as the brats always did.
Time to run.
With an echoing clatter, an internal wall went down. Stone stood his ground, watching Freaks shove toward him. In the back, one of them scouted the situation, and theninexplicably, it loped away. Before he turned, he glimpsed their mutated, monstrous features: pale skin cut with sores, yellow fangs, milky eyes, and bulging brows with sparse hair. Their bodies looked almost human: same number of eyes, arms, and legs, but their skin and their faces identified them as other. They raised their heads, scenting. They probably didnt see well, so he waved the torch. Terror and revulsion wedged in his throat, but as long as feelings didnt freeze him, it would be all right.
He waited until the first one ran for him, and then he wheeled, vaulting the snare, dodging right to avoid the spring-trap. The light in his hand blinded the Freaks, leaving them unable to mimic his path. Behind him, he heard the rope snap and the metallic clang, and then an animal growling in both pain and anger. He ran on, holding in his mind the deadly path theyd laid.
Deviation meant death.
Chapter 7
Chills of pure terror rippled the skin of her forearms. Thimble curled into a smaller ball, wishing she could see, but she only heard the snick and snap of her traps. As if he sensed the absolute need for stillness and silence, Boy23 snuggled to her chest, knuckles in his mouth. If she raised up to look, the Freaks might sense the movement, not so much with their eyes, but from the stirring air. As long as she heard Stone running, it wasnt over. He was so much braver than shed known.
His footsteps bounded around, over, faster than the hungry Freaks slavering in his wake. Metal clanged and the Freaks screamed. Sometimes it sounded like weeping. The noises disturbed the brat in her arms and he cried quietly, his breath coming in little hiccups. He had to be beyond hungry and exhausted, but he could sense the danger. Otherwise he wouldve been wailing at the top of his lungs, as choleric young sometimes did.
Shh, shh, she whispered, patting his back. Your sire will be back. Hes not leaving us.