Home > Outpost (Razorland #2)(43)

Outpost (Razorland #2)(43)
Author: Ann Aguirre

I nodded. “A primitive one, but yes.”

“You didn’t rouse their attention?”

Remembering the Freak we’d killed, I shook my head. None of the others had seen us. If they found his body, they couldn’t know for sure what had happened, and with any luck, forest scavengers would get at him to make it even more uncertain.

“That much is good. But, thunderation, I have no idea what to do about this.”

It seemed like a bad sign that Longshot would speak so freely in front of me. He was the elder, and he should display certainty to keep the men following him without question. Or maybe that was a trait encountered only down below. Topside leaders might be more honest about their lack of knowledge. If nothing else, it made him seem more human. That wasn’t necessarily a comfort in times like these.

I ventured, “You said we could leave them alone, as long as they don’t attack. Has that opinion changed, now that you know they’re building nearby?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Really, I just want to survive the growing season, bring in the harvest, and get behind those walls. When I’m traveling the trade routes, I don’t stay in one place this long and it’s making me jumpy.”

“The men too. If they knew what we do—”

“They’d light torches and burn the forest down,” he finished. “We need that wood, not to mention all the game they’d scare away. We can’t tell them until I make up my mind how to handle it … and that means I need some thinking time. Will you tell your friends to keep quiet for now?”

“Of course. We already agreed we wouldn’t say anything until we talked to you about it.”

He touched two fingers to his forehead. “Appreciate it. As for the matter of you three roaming at night, don’t do that again. Since you didn’t get caught, I’m going to pretend it didn’t happen.”

I smiled at him, despite my general exhaustion. “So that’s the rule? No witness, no crime?”

Longshot laughed. “You’ve got guts, girl.”

Belatedly, I remembered to warn him about the ease with which we’d sneaked out of camp last night. A Freak following that same route could get in unseen. So I summarized the path we took and told him how distracted the guards were. “Anyway,” I concluded, “it shouldn’t have been that simple. Someone should’ve noticed and stopped us.”

A deep breath escaped him, not quite a sigh, more of a huff of exasperation. “I try not to get agitated, but you’d reckon these morons might get better, the longer we’re in the field, but they seem to imagine this is a family picnic.”

“None of them are soldiers,” I said quietly.

“True. But that’s no excuse for simple incompetence. I’ll have a word.” Longshot made a shooing motion. “Get out of here. Go toughen up those muscles.”

Obediently, I went back to the drills that increased my stamina and strength, and then I worked with Frank a little, keeping my promise. Once I finished, I sat down, waiting for Stalker and Fade to complete their classes. They each met my gaze and came over as soon as they could. Stalker sat to my left and Fade placed himself on my right. For the moment, the lingering tension between us had gone, banished by the dangerous situation.

“What did he say?” Fade asked.

I filled them in, and Stalker shook his head. “So he’s going to do nothing?”

“Nothing right now,” I corrected.

“I don’t think those were all hunters,” Fade said. “They might be the Freak equivalent of women and children.”

I considered. “That would explain why they’re leaving us alone.”

In the past, Freaks had shown no signs of specialized behavior. They all attacked; they swarmed and ate and moved on to the next kill. In the tunnels, I had noticed different sizes, but I hadn’t thought anything of it. It never occurred to me that the smallest ones could be Freak brats.

Stalker drew a pattern in the dirt, something abstract and complex. “I don’t like leaving them so close. They might have sent for reinforcements.”

I reminded him, “We don’t have the numbers to take them on.”

“If they’re not fighters, we do,” Stalker argued.

Fade seemed troubled. “But should we attack them unprovoked?”

“Damn right, we should. If we fail to strike now, we’ll regret it.” Stalker couldn’t take any other stance; life had taught him to fight hard for his territory, and though he was learning other ways in Salvation, he still had wolfish tendencies. “And it wouldn’t be unprovoked, anyway. Remember, they hit us when we were trying to plant the first time … and don’t forget what they did to our dead.”

“It’s not our decision.” And I felt grateful about that. “We pushed Longshot as far as we can regarding the recon mission. If we do anything else without his approval, he’ll send us back to town.”

The three of us shared a look of mutual horror at the idea of being stuck inside and forced to do chores. While living rough had its disadvantages—no proper baths for instance—at least out here, we had the possibility for excitement and that something we did might make a difference. Plus, it would be beyond shameful to be sent back as unsatisfactory when these other guards were still on duty. None of them fought half as well as us.

Shortly thereafter, a runner came from the settlement. The Salvation guard rummaged in his pack and produced two stunning, supple pairs of boots. “Edmund sent me with these for Fade and Stalker.”

The boys took them with awed expressions, for this was some of my foster father’s finest work. For my part, I was astonished he’d found someone willing to journey out to the outpost. I watched as they donned their new gear quickly and I beamed at the messenger in thanks.

“Tell Edmund I appreciate this,” I said softly.

“Me too,” Fade put in.

Stalker looked as if he didn’t have words, but he finally muttered, “This is really something. Thank him for me.”

The guard tipped his hat and headed back toward Salvation. Longshot sent a couple of men to see him halfway back to town and they reported no problems on their return. I could tell the rest of the guards envied our fine, elegant footwear; they should all be lucky enough to have Edmund care about them. He was a good man, and I felt proud to be his foster daughter.

   
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