Enclave

on a pale and sickly sheen. When I checked the wound, I saw she had been bleeding; the fabric was soaked. If we didn’t get it stopped, she would die, no question. Bonesaw would’ve taken a needle and thread to it, but we had none. So I knew of only one thing we could do.

“Get some wood,” I told Stalker. “And build a fire.”

Though he must’ve been exhausted too, he rose and went to do as I asked, gathering the scrubby grasses, leaves, and fallen twigs he could find first, and then he ran off toward a distant tree. Breaking limbs would create a smoky blaze, but it couldn’t be helped.

Fade sat with her quietly, her head in his lap. I recognized in his nature the Hunter instinct; it drove him to be fierce and protective of those weaker than him. Maybe that was why she drew him. She needed that part of him because she had no matching instincts. In that sense Stalker was right; she was a Breeder, but I no longer thought that was a bad thing. If not for them, our world would not go on, even in its limping way.

I scraped one dagger clean as best I could. The flames would do the rest.

“You think this will work?” Fade asked. He knew what I was planning, of course.

“Don’t know. But if we don’t seal that wound—”

“I know.”

Before long, Stalker returned with his arms full of wood. I arranged it and then we started the fire, using the twigs and leaves first, and encouraged the green wood to burn. It caught slowly, but with continual attention it stoked up. The smoke would signal any Freaks in the area to our location, but sometimes you had to make the hard choice.

I cut away the fabric from Tegan’s thigh. “Water.”

Since we’d been traveling along the river until this point, we didn’t have a lot to spare. I used it lightly, wiping away the worst of the blood, so I could see how deep it went, and where the ragged flesh opened up. It was bad, maybe crippling. If she walked again — if she lived—she’d limp far worse than Thimble. I rinsed off my hands as best as I could, and then I coated them with Banner’s salve. I applied that liberally to the injury, then put my dagger blade in the fire. I held it there until it glowed. Stalker watched me in silence. I glanced at Fade.

“Want me to cover her mouth?” he asked.

I nodded. Even if she was out, she still might scream. With one hand, I sealed the edges of the torn skin; with the other, I branded her. It was all we could do. We didn’t even have Bonesaw’s limited supplies.

She did cry out, a terrible wail of pain that ended in Fade’s hand. Tegan bit him hard, fighting to get away, but I didn’t stop until I could see it had worked. I pulled the knife away then, and put it back in the fire to burn it clean. The wound could still get infected; her leg might swell. If she took a fever, well, I’d never seen anyone recover from that down in the tunnels.

My hands shook. I closed my eyes for a long moment and dropped my head back against the rock-and-dirt wall behind me.

“You did your best for her,” Fade said softly. “That’s all we can do.”

Stalker’s expression said he’d just leave her. He wouldn’t have cared much about the brat, either. He embodied the Hunter tenet about strength and survival. Sometimes I admired that about him. Not right now. Tegan was my friend, even if she’d come between Fade and me. It wasn’t her fault he found her softness more appealing.

“I need someone to do me now,” I said, lifting my shirt.

Fade’s breath came in a hiss when he saw what I’d been hiding. I couldn’t actually see where the claws raked me, but by their expressions, it looked ugly. I glanced between the two, waiting to see who would reach for my dagger. It had to be sealed. I ran the same risks as Tegan: infection and fever. Freak claws weren’t clean.

Stalker said, “I will,” and plunged the knife in the fire.

He copied what I had done with our precious water and then applied the ointment. On my raw torn flesh, it burned like nothing ever had before, like fire before the white-hot knife. In a way it prepared me for what came after. I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth, and said, “Do it. Don’t give me any warning.”

He didn’t. The dagger seared me, felt like it cut nearly to the bone, so far past my pain threshold that I bit my lip until it bled. I choked my screams, clinging fiercely to my Huntress mettle. Don’t let them see you weak, Silk ordered me. I taught you better than that. You were my best, Deuce. Don’t you ever forget that.

Now I knew I was dreaming. Silk never said anything like that to me. She didn’t praise; she gave cuffs upside the head, orders and backhanded compliments, like, You might be decent, if you weren’t so stupid.

When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself somewhere else. The fire was gone. Fade was gone. No Stalker, no Tegan. Everything was black and white, like one of the pictures I’d seen in the ancient, yellow papers at the library.

And Silk stood there, waiting.

“You’re not dead,” she said.

She’d always been good at reading my expressions. I half smiled because it was good to see her, even if it meant my mind had finally snapped. She looked the same: small, imperious, and confident.

“But I am,” she went on.

The loss hit me hard. Could it be true? Was the entire enclave gone? If so, I was alone as I never had been. I thought of Thimble, Stone, and Girl26. I remembered Twist and ached to know his ending. I wanted to remember them all — each lost face, every crooked smile and funny gesture.

“Are the Burrowers gone too?” I whispered.

“I don’t know. But you’re the last of us, Deuce. Only you can tell our story.”

“There’s Fade.”

She shook her head. “He was never one of us. He’s a hybrid thing, and still doesn’t like the fit of his own skin, despite my training.”

“He just needs to find his place.”

Silk ignored that, her face quiet and grave. “I came to say good-bye, and to tell you to keep the fire burning.”

“What does that mean?”

I heard Silk again, whispering, Keep the fire burning. I opened my eyes, reaching for her. So much to ask. I grabbed ahold of Fade instead. For a minute, the two realities blurred, the black and white and the too-bright day. Then the dream went away, leaving me with that aching echo.

I’m the last Huntress.

“The enclave is gone,” I said shakily.

“You passed out for a bit,” Stalker said, kneeling beside me. “But I think you’ll be all right. You’re a tough one, dove.”

“Get away from her,” Fade snarled. “And stop calling her that.”

I could feel the tension in his body. He held me in his arms, as if he’d been rocking me. I must’ve scared him when I passed out; such weakness was humiliating.

Stalker didn’t back off. His scars pulled to the side as his mouth curled. “Deuce can make up her own mind.”

Were they going to fight now? I felt far too sick at my stomach to deal with this. I shoved away from Fade; the shift sent a lance of fierce fiery heat through my belly. Concern got the better of both of them; they put aside the quarrel at least.

I decided not to tell either of them I had seen Silk. They probably wouldn’t believe me anyway.

“How’s Tegan?” I demanded.

“You weren’t out long. No change,” Fade reassured me.

A relieved sigh slipped out. Gradually, I eased back against the packed dirt. My stomach burned with a steady heat, but I could bear it. I had to.

“Get more wood for the fire?” I asked Stalker. “We’re going to need it.”