The new guards were a grim-faced lot, knowing they took the places of two who had died, and two more who went missing. The other four were simply unlucky, because Stalker and I were determined to search for our friends. Ellis and Miles were being replaced too. Still, the town must realize that this outpost was important. Come fall, the survivors could retreat behind the walls for another winter, and pretend no danger lurked in the wilderness.
Longshot stopped me on the edge of camp. He held Old Girl in the crook of his arm, anticipating trouble, or maybe he liked the reassurance of his weapon in difficult times. I felt the same about my daggers. Surreptitiously I touched them, making sure of their weight.
“Got everything you need?” he asked.
I nodded. “Thanks for not keeping me here. You could have.”
“I’ve known you awhile, and I reckon there’s no preventing you from doing what you think is right.”
There was nothing I could say to that. At best, it meant I was principled; at worst, pointlessly stubborn. I’d never ask Longshot which he thought I was. Like most, I was a mix of good and bad, anger and protectiveness, kindness and pride. But right now, I had only strangled fear and the promise of revenge.
“It’s time,” I called to Stalker, Ellis, and Miles.
They fell in behind me, following the trail toward the Freak-infested wood.
Purpose
Stalker led the way with his keen eyes and as we walked, he scanned for more signs of passage. I took rear guard because I intended to keep Miles and Ellis where I could see them. They spoke to each other in low tones, occasionally laughing with malicious intent. It wouldn’t be long before they tried whatever they had in mind and I had to be ready.
“Here,” Stalker said. “They put down their burdens. See how the grass is flattened and the dirt is churned.”
“How do you know a moose didn’t lay down there?” Ellis asked.
“The drag marks further on. And there would be marks from the hooves.”
When I bent, I saw them too, faint but unmistakable. Somebody’s heels—either Frank or Fade—made those indents in the soil. I nodded my thanks, and we went on, into the forest proper. At any moment, I expected to stumble upon them, devouring their prizes. The shadows thrown by the trees seemed ominous, dedicated to keeping secrets.
“How did you learn all of this?” I asked.
Stalker shrugged. “I haven’t been wasting my time in camp. I made friends with one of the hunters.”
By which he meant one of the guards responsible for procuring fresh meat for the town. That was one key difference. Bringing back game had been part of our job description, along with clearing Freaks out of our territory and protecting Builders and Breeders. As they had more guards in Salvation than we’d had Hunters down below, their division of labor made sense.
“Are they heading toward the village?”
“What village?” Miles demanded.
Stalker shook his head faintly; he didn’t think it was smart to tell them too much. So I seamed my mouth shut and let him motion them to silence. There would be less conflict if they thought he was in charge. While his youth made him unpalatable, at least he had the proper equipment in his pants.
Ellis and Miles whispered some more. I wished I hadn’t brought them or that they didn’t have rifles, but close up, those would prove of limited use. Most likely, I’d be faster than they expected. Men always underestimated me.
It grew more difficult for Stalker to read the trail signs the deeper we pushed into the forest. The ground was covered with damp leaves, obscuring all but the most obvious clues. For the first time, he hesitated. I told myself he was doing his best; he had promised he would, and I had no reason to think he took such words lightly. But every moment we delayed, Fade got farther away … and the danger of his situation increased. I refused to consider that it might already be too late, as everyone else already said. I wouldn’t entertain the idea that my quest was hopeless.
“This way,” Stalker said at last, but I could tell he wasn’t sure.
To my relief, we turned away from the path that led to the village. Instead, it appeared these Freaks were circling around, though I didn’t understand why. Maybe they hadn’t been accepted into the settlement yet, and were hoping to use the men they’d taken as welcome gifts.
Stop it, I chided myself. This isn’t helping.
Misery knotted into an iron ball just below my breastbone, tormenting me as we walked. Miles and Ellis hunched their shoulders and kept one hand on their rifles at all times. They were going to draw the whole village down on us the minute they fired off a round, but as long as I could run faster than either of them, I didn’t care much. Only Fade mattered.
Only Fade.
Two or three Freaks, acting alone. Try as I might, I couldn’t work out the sense of it. Fortunately, I didn’t need to; I just needed to keep my wits about me and follow Stalker. Soon, there was no path, which made the trail easier to follow. Freaks pushing deep into the untamed wild left broken branches and churned dirt. Now and then, they had to put their burdens down. I didn’t let myself wonder why there were no signs of a struggle. If Fade had come to, he’d have fought.
But it doesn’t mean he’s gone. It doesn’t. There could be some reason. Maybe they keep knocking him out before he rouses fully.
Maybe he is dead, an awful voice suggested. You’re chasing a dream, unable to let go, because he wanted both sides of you—girl and Huntress.
I shook my head, breathless with the pain.
A short while later, Stalker knelt. Despite the green-cast shadows falling on his scarred face, I read his reaction to whatever clue he’d found. Dread. Steeling my nerve, I crouched beside him and the smell reached me. More blood. I hadn’t wanted to think about the stain on the blankets before now.
“How much is it?” I asked.
I might be able to tell for myself, if I looked closely, if I spilled the wet leaves through my fingers, and touched the moist earth. There was no way I would, especially if there was a chance it belonged to Fade; I wasn’t brave enough in this moment. Stalker had to be my eyes.
“Not enough for a mortal wound.” Of that, he sounded sure. Relief lightened the load on my chest. “But I don’t think it’s human. Here.” He held a leaf to my nose.
Beyond the initial copper, there was an underlying aroma—sickly sweet decay, as if the sores that showed on their bodies went bone deep. Ellis and Miles came up beside us, sniffing with desultory interest. I thought privately that they both stunk too bad to smell anything else, but they both pretended to notice the difference.