know he’d dealt with his grief. I was glad to have him back. After that silent exchange, he fixed a plate and joined the rest of his scouts. The town square was a cheerful place, lit by the electric lights that Wilson had explained in such tedious detail, plus the merry crackle of multiple fires.
By that time, everyone else had eaten. There were jugs of strong-smelling drink that made the townsfolk laugh and fall down a lot; I quietly instructed my men to stay away from it. Around that time, a Lorraine trader produced a fiddle, and I wondered if the Winterville citizens found the music improper for a night that was supposed to be about showing respect for the dead, but nobody protested. The notes sang out like silver light, until people’s feet were tapping. Soon, dancing began, a whirl of feet and legs. The impromptu performance seemed to enliven Stalker further and he coaxed a local girl into dancing with him. Later, he stole a kiss from Tully, which made Spence try to plant a boot in his arse. Laughing, Stalker went back to his Winterville conquest. It was good to see him in high spirits, after the knock he’d taken earlier.
As the liquor flowed, stories tumbled out one after another. Many of them had the magical quality of the one Morrow had told about the boy who lived in the cupboard. I had a hard time listening to all of them, but the storyteller was in his element. Now and then I caught him scribbling frantically to be sure he didn’t miss any of the details.
Tegan sat with Dr. Wilson, pestering him with questions, but rather than being annoyed, he seemed pleased by her interest. The scientist had endless patience for her curiosity, even if I didn’t understand half the things he was telling her. She glowed by firelight, looking at Wilson as if he were the greatest present she ever got, even without the fancy wrapping. I laughed quietly, and Fade tightened his arm around my shoulders. Moments like these were few and far between.
“Do you ever wonder what happened down below after we left?” he asked, surprising me.
“All the time. I wish there was some way for us to find out.” But we had come so far, not just in actual distance. I might even be frightened to go back down into darkness, fearing it would choose to keep me this time and not let me go back into the light.
“Me too. I know you had friends you left behind.”
“Not very good ones, as it turns out. They believed the worst of me awfully fast.” That was an old wound, one I’d hardly acknowledged.
“I’m sure they had their reasons,” Fade said.
I gave a bitter laugh. “They trusted the elders, like I did before you got inside my head.”
“Are you sorry about that?”
“How can you even ask? My life is so much better because you’re in it—and not just because we went Topside.”
He gave me a crooked smile, and his gaze lingered on my lips. “It’s nice to hear.”
I winced, taking that as a criticism. Deep down I knew I wasn’t the best at talking about my feelings, and Fade probably needed to hear how important he was to me, as much as I could express it. “I’ll try to be a better partner.”
“You’re spot on with the killing,” he told me, smiling.
That was a quiet nod at our time together down below when I was completely oblivious to the fact that he wanted to be more than my hunting mate. My cheeks heated. “I’ll work on the talking.”
The fact that my private thoughts mattered to him meant more than he knew. As I struggled to find the words to express them, the lights went out overhead. The fiddler paused his tune as the night darkened, leaving only the fires crackling. People quieted also, as if they remembered all too well how dangerous nights filled with monsters could be.
“I’m sure it’s just a malfunction in the wires,” Dr. Wilson said. “Or possibly the windmill that powers this part of town has broken down.”
A dozen slurred voices added their opinions, but I recognized the prickle crawling over my bare arms. I signaled my men, and Company D was on its feet, ready for battle in less than thirty seconds. I spun until I located Stalker, but he was already coming toward me. He recognized this as his area of expertise.
“Will you see what’s going on?” I asked, low. “But don’t engage. We need intel.”
This time, he took none of his scouts, heading off at a silent run. He moved with all the grace of a creature born in the wild, and within seconds, he vanished into the shadows. The party mood was gone, and the Winterville folk started packing up the food, hurrying toward the houses where they had hidden for days already. Most still had barricades for the windows and doors; I hoped they wouldn’t need them tonight.
Mrs. Meriwether darted toward Dr. Wilson. In the confusion, she thought nobody was paying attention, but I craned my ears to catch every word. “I thought we were safe. You made enough of that spray to treat the whole town.”
His tired reply was unmistakable. “It doesn’t last forever, Agnes, and Timothy is gone. I can’t make more without him since the extract came from his reproductive glands.”
“So we’re defenseless?” Her horror was palpable. “I killed all those people for nothing.”
I bit out a curse. The chances were good that we had Freaks in the windmills, destroying them. They might not understand what purpose they served, but they hated all human technology. They’d wreck these machines for the same reason they’d dug up our crops—because they thought it would weaken us in some fashion. And in most cases, they were right.
I didn’t wonder long. Stalker came at a run, winded, which meant he’d pushed himself. He gasped out, “Freaks. At least a hundred, coming in from the east.” As he caught his breath, he added, “I suspect they trailed the Lorraine traders. Not sure why the pheromones aren’t discouraging them.”
“It washes away,” I said. “It’s not forever. And Dr. Wilson can’t make more.”
“They won’t fight.” Fade was watching the townsfolk move in full retreat, preparing to cower inside their homes.
But barred windows and doors wouldn’t deter a hundred intelligent Freaks. They’d use fire or some other strategy to take this town, and it wouldn’t even require the rest of the horde, unless we did something about it.
“This will be a tough fight,” I said softly.
Stalker nodded. “At night, against superior numbers? It’ll cost us.”
“I know. But the alternative is to leave Winterville to its fate.” Under no circumstances could I give those orders. If the rest of Company D abandoned the town, I couldn’t go. It might be the practical decision—one a Huntress would make—but I couldn’t save these people from the feral humans, only to let them die.
“Men!” I called.
They surrounded me at full attention, row by row, and I recalled that was the style in Soldier’s Pond. I didn’t usually require it, but the occasion merited formality, I supposed.
I had no fancy words, but I gave them what I knew. “It’ll be a rough night, our first big battle of the season ahead. Who wants to kill some Muties?”
“Company D,” they called back.
Not a single voice remained silent; they all shouted their intentions to the skies. If they died tonight, they’d go out as Hunters, one and all.
I squared my shoulders. “Then we need a plan.”
Fade turned in a slow circle, assessing the houses and the open terrain of the town square. “I think we can win. But we need to draw them here.”
“Count on my scouts for that,” Stalker said.
I thought I understood Fade’s plan. “Spence and Tully, I need you on those rooftops. I want constant fire from you until you run out of ammunition.”
“You’re them,” one of the Lorraine traders said in wonder. “Company D.”
I hadn’t noticed their approach, but it made sense they’d be here since they didn’t have houses to hide in, and the wagons offered limited cover. The lead driver wore a rifle on his back as Longshot had, and I wondered if he was any good with it. He seemed to read my thought—or maybe my look—because he drew it and held it like a man who knew which way to point it.
“We are,” I acknowledged. “But I don’t have time for introductions at the moment.”
I expected some disparaging remarks about my gender or my age, but to my surprise, the rifleman said, “Put us on a rooftop. We’ll fight with you.”
