When I met the men, already assembled in the shed for afternoon training, I gave them the quick rundown. I finished with “Get your gear. We’re moving in an hour.”
It didn’t take long to raid my footlocker and pack my things. I was lacing up my boots when Momma Oaks found me. She was carrying a bundle; I first thought she’d made some more clothes. Then she unfolded the fabric, and the shape marked it as wrong for a shirt or a gown.
The material was plain, the first I’d seen since my arrival that hadn’t been dyed olive drab. She had cut it into a triangle and banded the edges in green. Square in the middle sat a stitched version of my personal token, a black spade with a two on top of it. The dark symbol looked powerful against the pale background, more so because she’d embroidered a red border. She had precious few supplies left from her seamstress work in Salvation, and I couldn’t believe she’d used them up to make such a thing for me.
I also didn’t know what it was.
“It’s a pennant,” she explained. “I read in a book where warriors used to fly their colors when they went to war, so all their enemies would see them and despair.”
This … this was the truest love. She hated it every time I went out, but because she loved me, she supported me, even though it scared her. A fist tightened around my heart.
“Thank you,” I said. “It’s wonderful. How am I supposed to display it?”
“On a short pole, I think. I have Edmund working on it.”
“We’re leaving soon,” I said, hating to disappoint her.
“I know. He’ll be along shortly.” Momma Oaks paused. “Do you trust me, Deuce?”
“Of course.”
“Then let me have your token.”
My hand went to the hidden pocket in my shirt reflexively. Over the course of my travels, the card had become more bloodstained, but I had never lost it. I fought the urge to ask why; instead I proved my faith by producing it and offering it to her without a word. My mother smiled as she got out her needle, then she sewed the card into the center of the banner.
“Now it’s finished. This represents your fighting spirit and I truly believe as long as you keep it safe, you cannot fail.”
Tears sprang to my eyes at how she had combined her greatest skill with my custom, one she probably didn’t even believe in. Shakily I hugged her and whispered, “Thank you.”
She pushed out a long breath, then said, “Rex wants to go with you.”
I froze. “How do you feel about that?”
“When we first arrived, he was grieving over Ruth, and I was afraid he’d do something foolish. But now it’s been long enough…” I heard what she didn’t say. She wanted him to follow his heart, even if it was worrisome.
“He hasn’t said anything to me or attended any of our drills. Tell him if he still wants to join up, it needs to be after he’s worked with us some.”
“He’ll ask why you’ve accepted strangers over him, no questions asked.”
“Because they’re trained soldiers and he’s not. It would be irresponsible to take him into action without first teaching him how to fight.”
“That sounds fair.” She was visibly relieved that we weren’t both marching off today.
I ended the discussion with a hug, but I couldn’t linger. It wouldn’t look good if I ordered the men to be ready in an hour and I showed up late. Lead by example, Silk always said—and though I didn’t agree with everything she’d shouted at me, that tenet stuck. Momma Oaks accompanied me to the gate, and as she’d promised, Edmund arrived soon after with a light metal rod. It wasn’t so long it would be unwieldy or so heavy it would be a problem to carry. In efficient motions, she stitched the pennant to the pole while I counted heads. Fade was here, Thornton and Tegan too … Zach Bigwater, Harry Carter, all the scouts, along with Morrow, Tully, and Spence. I’d memorized all the men’s names because they weren’t numbers to me. I ran down the roster mentally.
“Everyone’s present,” I said. “Company D, move out.”
It was a miserable march, though our official flag cheered the men up considerably. They took turns carrying it and eventually took to wagering over who got the privilege. I had nothing to do with that; they awarded it to one another for whimsical reasons: a good song, stealthy movements, a cheerful tale. Though I expected some of the new men to complain, as they weren’t used to life in the field, none of them whined. That was a good start.
The ground was marshy from melting snow and frozen by turns, so I watched my step. Stalker and his scouts ran vanguard, finding us a good, safe route to Winterville. Since I didn’t know what we’d face once we arrived, it seemed best not to expend our energies more than necessary. There would definitely be fighting in town, and I hated the thought of killing humans. The handful of times I’d done so, I only enjoyed it once. Gary Miles, the Salvation soldier who thought girls were good for only one purpose, was no loss to the world.
Despite the weather, we made good time.
On the outskirts of Winterville, I waited while Stalker and his scouts surveyed the opposition. The rest of us were tense, listening for any sign that the afflicted were venturing past the Winterville boundaries. Now and again, I heard inhuman shrieks, wordless growls, awful but distinctive from any sound I ever heard the Freaks utter.
“This is horrible,” Tegan whispered.
I nodded. The scouting party didn’t return a moment too soon.
Though the former Wolf was tough, even he was shaken when they returned. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Stalker said, still panting. “Every house is barricaded from the inside, windows and doors. And the town itself…”
“Go on,” I prompted.
“There are people everywhere, attacking anything that moves … eating each other.”
Horror ran through me. Regardless whether the scientist, Wilson, had good intentions, he’d experimented without considering the consequences, and it now seemed that his work would end as badly as those that started all the trouble in the first place. If these people turn into Freaks … With some effort, I curtailed my urge to speculate and focused on the facts.
“How many?” I asked Stalker.
“Seventy-five to a hundred. That’s just an estimate.”
“Are they working together?”