“I’m gonna be so glad to see my wife,” one of the guards said nearby.
“Been a long time,” another agreed.
Chatting as they were, the men didn’t seem to feel it. I worked faster. Feverish. This couldn’t be done in a day. How I wished it could.
When the light went, the growers returned to Salvation with the laden wagons. I wasn’t chosen for escort duty, and I prowled the camp like an angry spirit. Longshot stopped me on my second circuit, drawing me toward his private fire. Sometimes he let men join him as a mark of favor, if they’d distinguished themselves that day. I didn’t think that was the case with me.
“You’re gonna burn out,” he said. “And you’re making the others nervous. Do you want to go back and join your friends in town?”
“Would you ask that of one of them?” I demanded, jerking my head toward the guards clustered around the other fire.
“Nope,” he admitted cheerfully. “But you ain’t a grown man, either, for all you’d like to be.”
I stared at him. “I don’t want to be a man.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. I know people think I’m strange in Salvation, but I’m not a bad example of a Huntress.”
“Never said you were.” Without asking if I wanted something, he fixed me a plate of beans and roasted meat. It was venison, I thought, left from the last hunt.
Though I felt too sick with anxiety to eat, I shoveled the food in anyway. My body would get weak if I didn’t maintain it, and then I’d let one of my comrades down. Under the circumstances, we needed all the strength we could muster.
“How much longer?” I asked.
“Two days should wrap it up. The rest will rot in the fields, but it’s not ready for us to bring it in.”
“Will Salvation have enough food this winter?”
Longshot shrugged. “Might have to tighten our belts a notch or two, but nobody will starve, I reckon. And some could do with some slimming anyway.”
“You’ve always been so nice to me,” I said. “For precious little reason from what I can see. Why is that?”
He was silent for long moments, gazing out over the dark landscape. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled at me. “I brought you to Salvation. You’re like my own.”
What did that mean, exactly? Down below, I had no kin to claim me, just the good of the community. Topside, I had foster parents and Longshot too … whereas Fade had nobody. That seemed so unfair; he needed people to love him because he’d had that once and lost it. But maybe I could make up the difference. Perhaps my heart was strong enough to heal the damage. I clung to that hope, just as I had to the certainty he must be alive.
“Is that why you sent me to Momma Oaks? Because you knew she’d do more than tolerate me.”
The elder inclined his head. “I hoped she’d love you, yep. Seemed like you could do with some.”
That was when I knew—in his way, he loved me too. That was why he’d put up with my questions and visits to the wall, the nights he stood watch. Warmth bubbled up through the pain and uncertainty. It was hard to stay tense around Longshot, which was probably why he’d called me over. My muscles relaxed, both from his easy company, and the quiet warmth of the fire. Exhaling slowly, I closed my eyes and tried not to think about Fade. Or about Stalker, who had kissed me good-bye, but Fade seemed indifferent to that too. He no longer cared about anything—and maybe I fretted for no good reason. It might be normal for him to withdraw, considering what he went through.
Be patient, I told myself.
Before long, I excused myself and went to my bedroll. Sleep didn’t come easy, and I roused at every night noise, expecting to find a Freak trying to drag me out of my tent. As they had Fade. If they’d intended to instill fear by their actions, then they’d succeeded. I didn’t feel secure here anymore—not that there was safety anywhere. The whole world was a ruin, a place of sharp angles and pitiless lines that could cut you to the bone.
In the morning, I gulped water, hard tack and then sought Tegan in the field. She glowed a deep bronze where my skin burned from laboring in the bright sun, but there was no help for it. Momma Oaks would have some remedy when I got home. I wanted to see my foster mother with a desperation that bordered on unreasonable, but I felt like she could make everything better somehow, or at least explain to me why nothing made sense anymore.
I saved you, Fade. Why do you hate me?
Maybe that’s why. Because you made him live with it.
Over lunch, Tegan cornered me. “I saw Stalker and Fade in town. What’s going on? They look terrible … and so do you.”
Knowing it was pointless to withhold the story, I led her away from the others. Then I summed up the events of the past days: Fade’s absence, the rescue, and the horde. Her face paled beneath its pretty color, and she stared at me, eyes wide.
“That’s…” Words failed her. “But it explains a lot. Stalker came to Doc’s last night. He apologized. He also said he knew that didn’t change anything, and I’m free to hate him forever, but … he’s sorry.”
“I’m glad,” I murmured. “I’m sure it doesn’t matter, but—”
“It does, actually. Hate is … it’s a weight … and when he said those things, I felt it go.” She paused. “I’ve considered what you said. I mean, what happened was terrible, but I understand that he didn’t know better.”
“I think bad things happened to him there too.” Pain taught people how to inflict more of it.
Tegan nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised. What’re you doing about Fade?”
“Give him time to miss me, I guess. It hurts when he pushes me away.”
Before she could reply, the head grower shouted at us, and we went back to work. Two days passed in this fashion, full of mindless tasks and haunting thoughts, until at last we were ready to make the final journey back to town. The wagons sat heavy, and the mules brayed in protest. I would defend this caravan with my life, not just because Tegan was part of it.
When the sentry shouted as the wagons moved out, I knew. Oh, I knew.
And my heart died a little.
This, then, was what they had been waiting for. After they destroyed the planting once, we established the outpost, and they couldn’t get close enough to do it again, due to our rifles. They spent the summer increasing their numbers—calling Freaks from far and near—and now they had a monstrous horde. In one fell charge, they would destroy our food source and starve us out, if they couldn’t breach the walls. In such numbers, they probably could; they just hadn’t figured out the mechanics of the task yet.