How many more? Too many.
Three of them died at my feet, and I stared, unable to grasp what I was seeing. But Tegan had broken one of their skulls, Thornton accounted for the other, and the third, well, Gavin of Winterville stood with our banner in his hands, the flag flapping in the wind; he’d impaled the Freak with the pointy end. Before I could thank them, Thornton’s head snapped to the side and his neck gushed red. The veteran fell before I could react, and then there were eight more monsters on Tegan, the brat, and me. He jerked the banner from his victim and used it like a polearm, but the kid didn’t have the strength to do that for long. Tegan and I covered him as best we could, but I was so tired, and from her movements, her leg was paining her. A doctor shouldn’t fight on the battlefield, but there was no time for her to treat the wounded. One of our men screamed for mercy, and anguish flickered across her face because she couldn’t break from the battle and do her job.
I’m sorry, I tried to say, but I had no breath. The stitch in my side came from a complex blend of exertion and pain, both emotional and physical. I’d never fought in a conflict that had no end, but this felt as if there were nowhere to go and no conclusion except the grave. Tegan stumbled and I grabbed her; somehow we held on as Freaks shoved toward us. Gavin was so gallant, flapping the pennant as if its power alone could drive the monsters away.
Tegan knocked down a Freak and I stabbed it while Gavin impaled another. He was actually pretty good with that blasted banner. But there were too many.
“I’m not dying!” Gavin shouted. “I promised my mum!”
His defiance gave me the strength to kill one, then another. Tegan appeared to take heart as well, and we pushed past the pain, until we had a pile of bodies so tall before us that I could stand on them. And I did. I climbed the corpses and stumbled down the other side, through the smoky air. There was more fighting farther along the river.
I spotted knots of Uroch battling their brethren and the Gulgur slinging stones with leather straps from the fringes of the battle. When a Freak turned to give chase, the small folk darted away and were gone, and in that time, the monsters took more damage from behind. Exhausted, I paused to catch my breath while my two comrades did the same.
“Are we winning?” Tegan asked.
I shook my head. “Don’t know.”
Then hope appeared, incredibly, unbelievably. From the south and east, men came marching. I recognized Morgan at the head of one column, so I identified them as Soldier’s Pond men. I saw people I had met in Gaspard, Otterburn, and Lorraine; they had tired faces but they all wore identical expressions of determination. Most were poorly outfitted and equipped. They had no uniforms and some were armed with hoes and shovels, whatever they could grab quickly. Marlon Bean lifted a hand in greeting, as did Vince Howe.
John Kelley rode at the front of the lines and when he saw me, he called, “You started without us, Huntress. Do you mind if we take some of these Muties off your hands?”
“Don’t attack the Uroch or the Gulgur,” I yelled back. “They’re with us.”
Quickly Tegan called out the description of our allies, and Kelley looked astonished, but he acknowledged with a nod, relaying the instructions to their men. Nobody argued. There was too much movement for me to get any idea how many had come to join the fight or how many Freaks were left, but hope flickered deep within me.
Catching my second wind, I ran at the remaining Freaks with renewed fury. As I fought, I searched for Fade. Sometimes I thought I heard his voice calling out orders, but I couldn’t break off to search for him. I did see Spence, out of bullets and using his shooting iron to club the monsters in the head to stun them before he stabbed. He smiled at me, teeth white in his filthy face, and it heartened me to see that he’d made it this far. His men surrounded him, the twenty that were left … out of the fifty he had before, and their deaths hurt, but I couldn’t stop.
Not when we were so close.
In the melee I lost track of Tegan and Gavin. Then I saw the boy raise his banner high and jam it into a Freak Tegan had flattened for him. “That’s for Stalker.”
I didn’t know how he could be so sure, but I sliced my way toward them. When I looked at the dead thing on the ground, I recognized the scar cutting through its left eye. Maybe it shouldn’t matter, as it didn’t bring my friend back, but I nodded at the brat.
“Good work.”
Within minutes, the tenor of the battle changed. These weren’t soldiers, but they were brave men, and the rest of us fought as hard. It could have been an hour or five, but eventually the horde broke. The Freaks tried to run, but riflemen from Soldier’s Pond had been practicing for years for this day, and they cut them down.
On the enemy’s side, there were no survivors.
Death
Ravens and crows swept down on the dead, even as I tried to tend the living. Tegan was distraught; we had no plan in place for victory, no facilities for the wounded. She shouted at people to help her carry litters away from the killing field and men responded to her call. Tegan found a capable-looking woman to serve as her nurse, and they discussed the best way to save as many lives as possible.
As for me, I was looking for Fade. I walked among the corpses, staring down into their bloody faces. Each time I saw a lean young man or a shock of black hair, I lost my breath and my courage. It took all my willpower to keep searching. I found Zach Bigwater cut down … and I hoped he’d found peace, redemption from his conviction that he was a coward. To me, it looked like he’d fought hard and I whispered, “Thank you.”
A few minutes later, I rolled Harry Carter over. The older man was smiling, as if he’d seen something lovely before he died. Fear took deep root in my belly. Fade promised. He’s fine. You just have to find him.
I stumbled across Spence by accident. He was half hidden by a rise above the river, bodies all around him. The beady-eyed black birds crept closer on forked feet and his scream sent them scattering in a flutter of wings. Too late, I saw Tully cradled in his arms. The container that held her bolts hung empty, and her knives were nowhere to be found. Her blood had clotted, going brown in the sun, but he didn’t let go of her. He just held her and rocked. His eyes opened when he saw me; and he seemed too young for such grief with his ginger hair and freckled face.
“I couldn’t find her.” His voice was a song born of pain. “I was too late.”
Dropping to my knees, I put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”