I’d never seen him look so grim. Despair etched his features, pulling his red scars taut. “If you want me to do this, then you need to kiss me good-bye.”
“Fair deal,” I said.
He’d stolen a kiss once, but this was the first time I leaned in on my own. This felt different too, maybe because it was my choice. His mouth was soft and warm beneath mine, lingering; I sat back, startled, but he wasn’t smiling. His expression told me he thought I wouldn’t survive the plunge into the seething Freak multitude. I had to admit, the chances didn’t look good. If I planned a frontal assault, I might as well stab myself in the chest and then lie down as breakfast.
That wasn’t on the agenda tonight.
Quietly, I outlined my plan, and he nodded. “It’s your only chance.”
Now I had to gather the supplies and wait.
* * *
There was no moon, just the starlight, but darkness didn’t frighten me. The horde did. Ruthlessly I fought down the fear and left my pack with Stalker. He was hidden in the tall grass near the lake, far enough away that the Freaks shouldn’t detect him. If I couldn’t get back before he left, I wouldn’t need provisions anyway—and extra weight would make my passage louder as I crept inside enemy lines. To succeed, I had to move like a ghost, like fog.
Can’t believe I’m doing this.
I’d returned to the forest’s edge earlier to collect my gruesome accessories, and I shuddered at what I was about to do. But if Freaks hunted by scent—and they did—then I had to cover mine. I couldn’t let a stray smell rouse them from their awful, flesh-devouring dreams. Closing my eyes, I took the entrails I had harvested from the Freaks and rubbed them all over my body and then added fetid blood.
Stalker watched me without expression. “I still want you, you know.”
“Like this?” I laughed to pretend I thought he was joking. If it spared his pride, it was worth him judging me a bit dim. Then I sobered. “Good hunting.” It was the highest compliment I could pay, acknowledging him as an equal, and he seemed to realize it. His smile came, quick as a cloud sweeping past the moon.
Without another word, I moved through the tall grass, slowly, so as not to draw attention. There might be sentries posted, or possibly some of the monsters were nocturnal. Either way, I had to risk it. This number of clustered Freaks smelled bad enough to make me nauseous. As I drew closer, I heard little sounds, like snoring, but more liquid in the throat, a wet gurgle, but it didn’t make me think they were in pain, quite the opposite. It was contented, a rumble I’d never heard from the Freaks, and I’d heard all manner of their screams, keens, cries, and growls.
Please let them be resting.
They were. They slept in piles, like animals, and like them, they had natural weapons: fangs and claws for rending their prey. At the perimeter, I froze. My nerve failed me. And I almost turned. He couldn’t possibly be alive in here. Not in this. At best, I’d find his corpse and die for nothing.
Better a dead Huntress, Silk said silently, than a live coward.
Squaring my shoulders, I agreed. I pushed forward at a measured pace, my movements small and silent. I sneaked past a knot of sleeping Freaks, my skin clammy with terror. Any minute they would rouse and snarl the alarm. Lunge at me with unreasoning hatred burning in their eyes, tearing me limb from limb.
I’ll be overwhelmed.
And none of that mattered. I was committed; a plan in place to ensure Salvation didn’t suffer due to my loss. If I died here, it wouldn’t be for nothing. It would be for Fade.
I swallowed hard, breathing lightly through my mouth. He didn’t want Stalker touching you, and look what you did. I shook my head. Who I kissed was the least of anyone’s worries. Emotions would get me killed, so I wadded them up and forced them away. I’d deal with it after I saved my boy.
Find him, Huntress.
Then I heard a noise that gave me hope. From somewhere within the camp came the sound of human weeping. I didn’t think it was Fade, but who knew how he would react in these circumstances? I’d probably cry too. I felt grateful for the guidance as I maneuvered around the sleeping Freaks. I wondered if they felt the same terror when they crept into the outpost, fear of our rifles, fear of discovery. Do Freaks fear death? It seemed I should have asked myself that question before.
In time, and through pulse-pounding dread, I came all the way to the center of the massive horde. Crouched low, I stared with utter disbelief at the source of the weeping. Down below, dying brats sometimes sounded like this; the white-eyed brat Fade and I failed to save did as the guard hauled him away.
Human pens.
In Salvation, they kept small animals for milk, eggs, and occasionally meat. I was familiar with chickens and goats enough to understand the Freak purpose. Here, a rudimentary fence had been built, via stakes in the ground, similar to the ones they’d mounted the severed heads on, and those inside the enclosure had been hobbled to prevent them from escaping. Hysteria rose in me.
They want to domesticate us.
This must be a new development. If Longshot had seen—or heard of—anything like this during his trade runs, he would’ve informed Elder Bigwater. People would be talking about this all over town. Since he hadn’t, I could only conclude this was more emerging Freak behavior. Lucky me to get the first glimpse.
Regardless, I had a job to do. If Fade was anywhere, alive, he’d be in there. So I pressed closer, until I slipped inside. Most hostages lay insensible with horror or grief, apart from the woman who wept in quiet, choking sobs—and their captors were doubtless used to her noise; her pain covered my approach. I crept among the hostages, seeking Fade, and my heart fell a little further at each strange face.
They woke at my touch, moaning, recoiling when they smelled me. In the dark, they might think I was a Freak come for a midnight snack. I ignored their weak blows and scuttling movements in favor of cutting them loose. It was all I could do. Whether they chose to leave or stay, it was in their own hands.
“Be quiet,” I whispered as I went.
Some immediately scrambled toward freedom. Others stared in dazed wonder, as if they’d dreamed my arrival. I never saw Frank. I looked for him; I did, thinking of how I’d face his sister in Salvation, but he wasn’t anywhere in the pens.
Maybe they already ate him. Fade too.
No. I searched faster. At last I found my boy, beaten until I hardly knew him. His features were grotesquely swollen, eyes blackened, and lips split over his teeth. His scars identified him as I rolled him over, and I muffled his groan with a hand over his mouth. Fade fought me like an animal. Even in his battered state, he managed to throw me. I landed on my back, the wind knocked out of me.