“I don’t just want to patch you up,” she said. “I want to be able to defend myself. I don’t want always to be the weakest one in the group.”
I nodded. “We’ll figure out what weapon works best for you and go from there.”
Tegan didn’t hug me around the shoulders because we were soldiers now, but I could tell she wanted to. “Thanks, Deuce.”
The scouts found us a clear path to Otterburn, but there were Freaks sniffing all along the river. It bothered me that I could no longer smell them as strongly, only a whisper of corruption carried on the wind. Things were changing faster than I could keep up. Part of me doubted my ability to complete this task I’d set for myself.
A smaller voice was saying, Just find a safe place to hide. You can’t save these towns, and you’re crazy for considering it.
Then the Huntress squeezed out the cowardice, reminded me I’d rather die fighting, like Thornton said. If that was the case, well, at least like Longshot, I’d make my death mean something. Living down below, I wouldn’t have had that many years left anyway. So I’d make them count Topside; the Huntress who would always be a part of me, as much as my scars, wouldn’t let me do less.
The sun was sinking below the horizon when we arrived at the edge of town, long orange and pink streaks staining the sky. Otterburn was more like Salvation than other settlements I’d seen. The buildings were rough-hewn, but there were no walls here, no whitewash either. The wood was weathered, but it wasn’t like Winterville. There were people in the mud lanes, going about their business. Yet this was a small settlement without visible means of protection. The proximity to Soldier’s Pond meant they might receive aid in times of trouble, but I wouldn’t care to rely on a neighbor’s goodwill. I counted thirty buildings, total, twenty-five of which looked like people lived in them. The others were probably for tradecraft. Given the apparent lack of precautions, I had no idea how they hadn’t been wiped off the map.
I turned to the recruits from Soldier’s Pond, including Morrow in the look. “What do you all know about this place? Have you been here before?”
Tully and Spence shook their heads, and he said, “Our patrols didn’t rove this far.”
“I did trade runs for a while,” Thornton said, “so I’ve been here, but it was a long time ago. I retired from the road after my boys were born.” A flicker of sorrow shifted his set expression, a reminder that he had come along because he had nobody left in Soldier’s Pond.
The storyteller added, “I’ve been here, but I didn’t see anything worth staying for.”
He was likely the most traveled member of our group, making me glad he’d volunteered. “Do any of you remember the layout?”
“Nope,” Thornton said.
Morrow admitted, “I didn’t make any mental notes. This place is a bit of an eyesore.”
“No matter. We’ll figure it out,” I murmured.
Tegan was still beside me, though she was limping after a day on the move. But her leg wasn’t as weak as it had been, so she was improving. Asking more of herself would only increase her stamina too. I wasn’t worried about her keeping up. Everything else? Absolutely.
I called a halt in the center of town, then said to Stalker, “Take the measure of the place. See if you can find a local gathering spot. A shop or a market?”
Fade had told me about those long ago, how people got together to trade things. A place like that would be exactly what we needed.
Unlike other settlements, there were no guards. No sentries. People walking with bags and baskets glanced at us more than once, but nobody asked our business. Given what I knew about the world, I didn’t see how this place could continue, long term, without everybody dying in a massacre. Glancing at the rest of my men, I could tell they didn’t understand it, either.
The people seemed well fed. They wore simple clothing, similar to what folks had used in Salvation, except the women here were in trousers, too. I smelled bread baking along with the rich, savory scent of soup. After the swill we’d eaten in Soldier’s Pond, my stomach growled.
“I hear you,” Thornton said.
Before I could reply, Stalker returned. “I found what they call a public house. Half the men in town seem to be inside.”
“Then that’s where we need to go.”
The place Stalker mentioned had a porch across the front, and it was noisier than other buildings. I stepped inside, wrinkling my nose at the strong scent. It smelled like rotten fruit only with more yeast, combined lightly with unwashed bodies. Conversation stalled at our entrance, resumed a few seconds later as the men inside decided we weren’t that interesting.
“It’s a drinking house,” Morrow said.
“What’s that?” I asked, low.
“They serve alcohol.” He forestalled my next question by explaining, “It makes you stupid, loud, and removes a good half of your coordination.”
“That sounds like a bad way to pass the time if you want to live,” Tegan said.
Yet another reason that Otterburn didn’t seem to be like the other towns. I just had no idea why.
There was a man behind a counter, a big, bald lout with a scarred face, and an even bigger cudgel behind him. For obvious reasons, he looked like he was in charge, so I picked a path through the tables and said, “Do you mind if I address the men?”
“That depends. I don’t want you stirring up trouble in here and causing a fight.”
I didn’t think my words would have that effect, but it seemed better not to make him mad. “I’m looking for soldiers to fight the Muties.”