Outpost (Razorland #2) - Page 34/45

“Forced breeding?” My voice came out thin.

I’d never heard of such a thing until I came Topside. In the enclave, it wasn’t an issue since brats came up knowing their roles. In Salvation, I didn’t understand how Miles and Ellis expected to get away with it. Though I had an imperfect understanding of the society, the rules were clearly different than they had been in the gangs. Females were respected here, if not treated as equals.

“To start.”

“What do you mean? Is there something worse?”

“Some people,” Stalker said softly. “They’re born broken. I knew some.”

“But not you?” It wasn’t until after I blurted the question that I realized it would hurt him.

His shoulders hunched, and his answer came on a sigh. “I fought a lot in the gang. I clawed my way to the top of the heap, but not because I enjoyed it. I did it because I could only make a difference if I held the power. I did what I had to and I don’t apologize for it.”

I’d never asked this before. “What was it like?”

“The gang?” He paused, considering. “Brutal. None of us lived long, and we took what we were strong enough to hold. I learned early on that I didn’t want to be low in the pecking order. We focused on finding food and making more Wolves to fight the other gangs, hold our territory.”

“Did you take hostages a lot?”

“You mean Tegan,” he said.

I nodded. “Did you?”

“Three or four times, usually from other gangs, so they didn’t fight. I didn’t know what to make of Tegan. So defiant when she had no strength to back it up.” He sighed. “It’s strange … I did what I had to at the time, but now, when I look back at that, it’s like I was someone else.”

“You wouldn’t do the same things now?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

“For what it’s worth, no. I’ve learned so much. I realize now that one girl didn’t matter. At the time, I thought I had to prove my power to keep the cubs in line. But I should’ve let her go. Not that it would’ve done her any good … another gang would’ve snatched her up and treated her worse.”

Killed her, I thought. Like the enclave would have.

“That would’ve been the right thing to do,” I agreed. “Just the same, maybe I shouldn’t be, but I’m glad you kept her. If you hadn’t, she might not have survived, and I wouldn’t have her as my friend now.”

Maybe it wouldn’t matter to her, but he should apologize to Tegan. I didn’t tell him so; that was between the two of them. I brought the conversation back to something else he’d said. “What do you know about the broken ones?”

“They live to hurt others.” By his tone, he had some experience with that. It might even be what had driven him to fight his way to the top of the pack.

“You think Ellis and Miles are like that?”

I glimpsed the movement of his head enough to know he was nodding. “Miles more than Ellis, who follows out of weakness.”

“So whatever they have in mind, I won’t survive it.” Somehow, it felt like a comfort to see my future mapped out. If I wasn’t fast enough.

“It won’t come to that.” That struck me as a promise. “Get some sleep, Deuce. I’ll stand first watch.”

Damage

It wasn’t quite dawn, faint light filtered by the leaves above. I lay in my blanket listening to the quiet wood. The silence had a waiting quality. No birds. No rustling of small animals. And from beyond our tiny camp, I heard movement.

Crunch. Crackle.

Something sniffed and gave a low growl. I’d never heard that from a Freak, but then, I had never encountered one hunting alone in a forest before. The ones down below fed in frenzied, starving packs. These creatures had very little in common with their weaker brethren.

An animal cried out—a hopeless wail in dying—and then it made no more noise at all. Wet sounds followed. I recognized the unmistakable sign of a Freak feeding on a fresh kill: the moist smacking and the groans of throaty pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut. It didn’t sound like many; they would surely be fighting over the meat if there were. How close was it?

I rolled over and found Stalker awake. The idiot Ellis had fallen asleep on his watch; he was probably the one who let the Freaks slip past and take Fade from his tent. I fought the urge to slit his throat. You’re not a monster. You’re not. You have no proof. Through sheer will I fought down the angry impulses. Miles hadn’t roused either, but Stalker and I, by virtue of our upbringings, slept lightly and with one hand on our knives.

He made a few concise gestures, telling me he intended to circle and I should go the other way, so we could spring an ambush. Taking a deep breath, I nodded, drew my daggers, and silently slid out of my bedroll. The soft ground made it easier than it would have been down below with gravel and broken glass. Without a glance back, I crept through the lacy green brush.

As I’d guessed, it was a lone Freak, and my heart nearly leapt from my chest before I ascertained its prey wasn’t human. Not Frank. Not Fade. It had been a deer, I thought, but it was hard to be sure, considering how much of it the Freak had already devoured. Glimmers of white bone showed through the chewed and ragged flesh. The blood welled up from the carcass, and the Freak lowered its head, lapping with its whole face. Red ran down its chin and neck, spattering its chest.

Before it scented me, I hit from the left and Stalker struck from the right. Our blades sank true, and it died instantly, falling atop its kill. Reaction set in, then. I had been so afraid I’d find Fade. Here. Now. And I couldn’t stand the damage.

Stalker put his hands on my shoulders—and for a moment, his pale eyes blazed with the power of what he felt for me. The reflected heat warmed me where I hadn’t even known I was cold. Then his golden, spiky lashes swept down, veiling his thoughts. I shouldn’t let this boy comfort me when I’d rejected him. Weakness made me selfish, but I didn’t resist when he pulled me against him. I had a fleeting moment to wonder where he’d learned basic gentleness; when we first met him, he had been all attitude and snarling instinct.

He soothed me with slow strokes on my back. As long as it’s only this, I told myself, it’s all right. I shouldn’t raise his hopes, but while my breathing steadied, I stood quiet. Then I stepped away with a murmur of thanks.

“Let’s get back,” he said without looking at me.

I’d hurt him. In that moment, I hated myself. I didn’t deserve Fade or Stalker. They only wanted me because I was different, because I used my knives with expertise and I didn’t ordinarily cling or look to them to solve my problems. Normal girls weren’t like me. Mrs. James had made that abundantly clear during school … and I would never be able to go back down below where I felt like I fit. The enclaves were gone, and sorrow weighed on me like a bag of stones.

In camp, the other two were stirring. They were fixing breakfast when we arrived, just more cold camp fare. As he took a bite, Ellis made some joke about me sneaking off with Stalker, but his eyes held a covetous light.

Miles stared with an ugly, speculative look. “I thought you had a soft spot for the dark one. Aren’t we risking life and limb for your pretty boy?”

“For Frank Wilson too.” But they both knew I wouldn’t have insisted on going after Frank. Not if he, alone, had been taken. With apologies to his sister, who had been friendly to me, I wouldn’t wager my life for Frank. Miles turned away with a sneer, dismissing my halfhearted words.

Trouble stirred. These two wouldn’t wait much longer. They didn’t care about rescuing either of our men, and we were far enough into the woods for them to strike. Stalker and I ate in silence and then packed up. By tacit agreement we didn’t mention the Freak we’d killed.

Miles found the trail through sheer luck. He stumbled into the undergrowth to empty his bladder. There, he found signs of a serious scuffle. It might have been the bobcat, but I didn’t think so. The way the earth was churned made me think it had been Fade and Frank, fighting for their lives. He wouldn’t give up, either. He’s trying to get back to me. The thought offered the only brightness I could summon in this situation. I put aside the warmth that flooded me when Stalker wrapped his arms around me. Anyone would make me feel the same desperate gratitude, even Longshot, who was too old to be interested in breeding with a girl my age.

I hadn’t slept well the night before, expecting at any minute for Freaks to attack; the one we’d found nearby only underscored the danger. That rifle shot echoed in my ears. It was unwise, certainly, to get rattled. More than ever, I needed to keep my wits about me. Otherwise, the odds of making it back to the outpost alive, let alone finding Fade, were slim.

Stalker followed Ellis to see what he could learn from the marks on the ground, and I went with them. It didn’t reveal any particular truth to my eyes, but I waited with poorly concealed impatience for his verdict. If the Freaks were injured—first by the bobcat and now by Frank and Fade—they couldn’t be moving too fast. We could catch up to them if we put on some speed.

He finally concluded his study. “Four or five participants in the fight. Two were incapacitated and hauled off. You can see where the footprints in the earth sink deeper. They headed this way.”

“Lead on,” Ellis said. “I’m more’n ready for some killin’.”

Miles said nothing, still watching me with the look that made me feel dirty all the way down to the bone. I resisted the impulse to scrub my hands along my arms. He couldn’t see my scars, but I touched them for reassurance. I wasn’t an easy mark; if he tried, he would find me ready for a fight. With some effort, I held his gaze until he broke eye contact and fell in behind Ellis, leaving me with rear guard again—the way I preferred it.

The day passed in silence and occasional pauses for hard tack and water. I chafed at the need for rest, but we had to be ready for a fight. That meant leaving ourselves something in reserve. With each step, my hope grew. I’d find Fade soon.

That afternoon, everything went wrong.

We stumbled out of the wood into a Freak hunting party, six strong, rested, and well fed. The tallest one screamed, and they ran at us with yellow teeth bared. The number wouldn’t have been overwhelming, if Miles hadn’t turned on me with his rifle, whipped his arm around my throat, nearly overpowering me with his stench, and then dragged me back toward the trees. I kicked and fought as much as I dared, determined not to leave Stalker to face the Freaks alone, equally determined not to let this filth hurt me.

“Keep it up,” he snarled at me. “This gun’s got a hair trigger, and I’ll spatter your brain if you’re not careful, puss. It doesn’t have to be like that. I can be real nice to you if you let me.”

In the distance, I heard the sounds of battle. Ellis’s rifle went off twice, and then silence. Stalker called out to me, but his voice got softer, the farther we moved away. If Ellis managed to take out one or two, Stalker could finish the rest. I hoped. Please be all right. To make matters worse, Miles churned up the earth as he hauled me, so if any of those Freaks survived, they would have no trouble tracking us, just as we had been following Fade and Frank.