Stalker’s lips curled into a sneer. “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. He flinched, and then went back to his knives. I put mine down and circled the fire to sit by Fade, who had been watching our whispered conversation with a faint frown. Though he trusted me, he didn’t like Stalker; it was astonishing he hadn’t come over to interrupt.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“More or less.” I outlined the idea, watching his face to see his true reaction. He had good instincts and since I was conflicted, he could cast the tiebreaking vote.
“We should go,” Fade said.
Surprised rolled through me. I’d expected him to err on the side of caution. There had to be a reason behind his choice, so I waited for him to continue.
“We’ll scout tonight. We’re not on the watch rotation, so it’s our right to give up our sleep, yes?” I nodded, and he went on, “It’s been bothering me ever since you said a Freak crept inside our line. Did it take the wood out of the fire, or did it bring a branch with it?”
I understood why he asked, but I shook my head regretfully. “I wasn’t fully awake until it ran away. I didn’t see.”
“So what’s the verdict?” Stalker asked, joining us.
Fade inclined his head. “It’s on.”
I checked my knives, knowing they were pristine and ready for action. “Longshot will be mad if we stir the Freaks up and draw them back here.”
“Then we make sure they don’t spot us,” Stalker said.
Fade added, “And if they do, they don’t reach the outpost alive.”
I asked myself, What would you do if you sneaked into a camp of sleeping Freaks? Would you slit all their throats? The answer that emerged made me wonder if I were more of a monster than the creature that stole our fire. That doesn’t necessarily establish that they’re capable of mercy. Maybe it was just cunning enough to know that stealth was its only chance to survive the theft.
For obvious reasons, it was terrifying to consider what Freaks could do with a burning brand. As far as I knew, they didn’t cook. Mind racing, I considered other alternatives. It hadn’t smelled as rank, so maybe it had been some deformed human, living as an outcast in the dangerous forest. I would love if that were true.
We’d find out shortly, one way or another.
After dark, the three of us crept out of camp without alerting the sentries. Though we were skilled, the guards’ lack of attention to the area alarmed me; they missed our departure, and they weren’t even asleep. Longshot needed to hear about this security lapse. Stalker shook his head in disgust as we circled behind the watchtower. By walking along the side of the hill and around, it was possible to use the sentry’s blind spot up top. That weakness needed to be addressed in the morning.
But for tonight, it served our purposes.
Sitting around didn’t suit me, so I was glad to see some action, even if our leader hadn’t directed us to do this. But he might have, I reasoned, if he knew how good the three of us were at moving unseen. We were all at a disadvantage in the trees, however, as we’d trained on different natural terrain. Stalker was used to creeping through the ruins; both Fade and I had learned our skill underground. I was confident we could disguise our movements beneath normal night noises, though.
I took point, charting a clear path into the forest. The twist of limbs overhead blocked most of the moonlight, but I could see well enough. This was where I shone. I could find the places where the thicket was thin. In fact, here it looked as if feet had trod this path often enough to thin the ground cover. I bent and touched my fingers to the damp soil, as if it could answer what had come this way.
In my heart, I feared I knew.
Night birds sang to each other in the trees. Squirrels chattered. As we traveled, I’d learned the names of the creatures whose world I shared. Sometimes I ate them. I always admired them. There was far less life down below, where I had grown up.
From this lower vantage, I saw a way through the tangle of undergrowth. The bushes gave with a whisper of foliage on our skin. I hoped there was no scratchweed nearby. We’d learned the hard way that certain leaves growing near tall trees could inflict the most rotten rash. I didn’t want to cover myself in mud again, and it was all that relieved the awful itching.
Too late for second thoughts. If we came out of this exploit only with irritated skin, that’d be like no consequences at all.
I pushed forward into a different world. We hadn’t come this deep for timber, reasoning that young trees on the outside would be easier to cut and haul. Natural trepidation bubbled up—not at the darkness, but at being surrounded by so many trees. I found them faintly disquieting, things that lived and seemed to watch, but never moved. It was like being surrounded by a silent army that might, when you least expected, strike you down.
Kneeling, I examined the ground again; and once more, I found signs of frequent passage. I couldn’t make out tracks, but the plants were trampled. Small animals like rabbits and squirrels wouldn’t do this. I glanced at Stalker for confirmation, and he nodded. It went without saying that we’d stay quiet until we found what we were looking for … or until we judged the forest uninhabited.
For good or ill, I decided to follow where this led. I kept my steps slow and gradual, easing over obstacles like fallen branches and logs. It was too early in the year for dead leaves, a factor for which I was grateful, as the ground was soft, making for easier silent travel. We plunged deeper into the woods. I had been told only those hunting meat for the settlement came this deep, so that meant we were doing as we were on target, though we weren’t stalking game. Instead, we were after information, which could offer as much value toward survival in some cases.
My ears perked first.
In the darkness, I heard a low grumble, not a growl, exactly, but like nothing I had ever heard before. At my look, Fade shook his head; he didn’t recognize it either. We’d all heard Freaks scream as they died and their horrid shriek just before attacking, but none of us had ever witnessed them … communicating with each other.
It might not be that, of course. Maybe there were animals in here we’d never seen or imagined. But as we drew closer, I became positive that wasn’t the case because the smell kicked in. The deeper we went, the more the woods stank of Freak—rotten meat, unclean flesh, the sickly sweet of a putrid wound. How could they stand each other? But I supposed one got used to anything. When I lived down below, I only noticed the unpleasant smell on bad days, but by contrast, the air Topside smelled of a hundred things—most of them beautiful and fresh as a morning rain.