Hobbs made our report to Longshot, who nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll send a runner to town to get the growers out here to tend the crops.”
“Glad it’s not my job,” I muttered.
Longshot flashed me a smile. “Me too. From what I can see, your skills tend toward killing things.”
The boss called a briefing thereafter. “We’re starting furloughs tomorrow, as promised. I’ll draw lots to see which squads go first. Then you can vote amongst yourselves as to who goes first. You’ll go off duty in pairs, understand?”
That sent a wave of excitement through the camp. Many men had families in town, and they weren’t used to being away from them. As for me, I longed to see Tegan and the Oakses, but I could wait. To my surprise, our team came up in the second round. My crew appeared delighted with our good fortune; the other guards liked Hobbs and Frank well enough not to complain too loudly.
Just before dark, the last patrol returned, carrying an unexpected boon. They’d shot a deer, already field dressed and cut into manageable chunks of meat. It smelled delicious roasting on the fire, and everyone was glad to wait a little longer to avoid more hard tack and dry meat. I joined the food line near the end, and took my plate over to where Frank sat, devouring the juicy venison with obvious relish.
For a few moments, we ate in silence while I tried not to notice Stalker and Fade arguing on the other side of camp. Their faces bore twin scowls, and Fade had his hands curled into fists. Now and again, they glanced at me, which made me think they were fighting about me somehow, but they weren’t speaking loud enough for anyone to overhear.
It isn’t my business, I told myself. I wouldn’t go over and intervene.
“What are you going to do in town?” Frank asked, distracting me.
“Take a bath.”
He laughed like I was kidding. “I’m gonna eat all the cake I can hold.”
Sweets were off the menu out here, so I could understand his craving. I listened with half an ear as he yammered on about how well his mother cooked. While I watched, the boys concluded their argument and Fade wheeled away to queue for some roast venison. The blond boy followed with a surly expression, chin up in a way that said he was spoiling for a fight.
Stalker hadn’t been pleased with our plan of inaction in regard to the Freaks. I didn’t blame him. The Huntress in me fought the urge to resolve the threat, but I respected Longshot’s orders. Yet that village in the forest bothered me—not just because it meant Freaks were acting counter to my expectations.
“This seat taken?” The question came from the man I’d guessed least likely to seek my company, Gary Miles. We had tangled twice, first with his stupid joke about me, and then over his failure on watch. Consequently, he’d loathed me ever since. Miles had a rat-faced look with a long, pointed nose and a nonexistent chin. Graying hair fell in lank locks down to his shoulders, and he reeked like a bucket of vomit. None of us smelled great, granted, but he didn’t even do spot washes.
I didn’t want him to join us, but I couldn’t conceive a way to refuse without being churlish. So I said, “Suit yourself.”
“What are we talking about?” he asked, once he made himself comfortable. His smile showed brown-stained teeth, some broken and black at the roots. There was no way around it; the man made my skin crawl, almost as bad as the first time Fade and I came upon a Freak feeding in the dark.
“What we’re going to do when we get our furloughs,” Frank answered.
Miles tightened his mouth into a bitter white line, but the look was gone before I could be sure of it, replaced with false friendliness. “Isn’t it lucky you get to go so soon?”
“Longshot drew for it,” I pointed out.
His amiability cracked. “And you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, don’t you, puss? There’s no fool like an old fool. We all saw how you stood by him, exchanging soulful glances, while we busted our asses to learn fighting techniques that we’ll never use.”
Surely he wasn’t implying I garnered special treatment by breeding with our commander? That was utterly disgusting—not because Longshot was old and horrible, but because he’d never do something so blatantly unjust and immoral. I eyed Miles with open dislike; he had a mind like the latrine he’d dug for punishment.
Evidently, Frank came to the same conclusion because he shook his head. “You’re talking nonsense.”
“It was her idea that we all get posted here, and now she struts around like she owns the place.” He put a dirty hand on my thigh. “It’s only fair she gives me a little consolation, ain’t it?”
With my left hand, I whipped my knife from its sheath and I pricked him between the thighs. I knew exactly what I was doing when his face paled, throat working with sudden fear. Frank looked as if he feared to intervene—and well he should have. If he’d touched me, I might have castrated somebody.
“Leave me alone,” I warned him. “It’s out of respect for Longshot that I’m not killing you, but if you trouble me again, I will, and that’s a promise.”
When I eased back, he scrambled to his feet. “This isn’t over.”
“Yes, it is.” I didn’t do him the honor of watching him walk away. That would imply I thought he was worthy of my wariness.
“Why do you think he’s so mad at you?” Frank asked.
“Some people just need somebody to blame.” But it was deeper than that for Miles, I thought. He was likely one of those men who couldn’t stand for a female to do anything besides cook his food and lie down for his pleasure. If he had a partner back in Salvation, she had my sympathies.