Ann Aguirre: Horde

“You should rest,” Edmund protested, but I ignored him.

“I can pitch in too,” Fade said.

The room was a maze of prone forms, laid out with only a little space between them. These cramped quarters reminded me of the enclave, but instead of the makeshift walls built of scraps of metal and tattered curtains, there was no privacy at all. On the injured, I saw each shift of expression, every flicker of pain. It seemed wrong to efface their dignity, after all they’d suffered and lost. Tears trickled down one woman’s face and she was too weak or sad to wipe them away. A stranger did that for her, just before tending the burn on the woman’s right leg.

I drew strength from that kindness. As long as I had two hands, I could work beside my friend. Tegan had to be hurting, just as tired as I was, but she was still on her knees beside a patient, doing what she could to give the man comfort. As I drew closer, I recognized Harry Carter, the man I’d fought beside on the wall. He had a terrible gash in his shoulder and another across his back, plus countless bites. It would be a miracle if he survived; I didn’t know how he’d made the trip from Salvation.

Tegan read my look. “They put him on a litter. He was quite the hero before the town caught fire, I guess. Saved four families.”

Harry’s eyes opened, bloodshot and tormented in his dirty face. “But not my own.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

He closed his eyes when Tegan went back to cleaning his wounds. When the astringent trickled into his rent flesh, it had to hurt but I saw no shift in his expression, maybe because the way he felt inside was worse. Wordless, I fell into our old rhythm, handing her things and wiping away the blood before she asked me to. There should be some words that would make things better, but I couldn’t think of any. Maybe a Breeder would have the gentleness to comfort the ravaged sadness I glimpsed in Tegan’s eyes. I worked on steadily.

It was the middle of the night when we emptied Tegan’s bag; there wasn’t enough salve or antiseptic to go around, so Tegan requested provisions from the women who had been helping us. Unlike the ones in Salvation, these females dressed in worn green trousers and they looked every bit as tough as Tully and the colonel. I suspected if not for the conditions surrounding our arrival, I might enjoy my time in Soldier’s Pond. The women debated among themselves before sending a young runner off to ask the colonel if they could tap into their own supplies.

Tully popped her head in, her hair disheveled and her face lined with weariness. “Got everything squared away?”

I had no idea why she was asking me. “Not exactly. But we’ve done what we can for now.”

“What’s the problem?”

“We don’t have enough supplies for the wounded. They sent someone to ask the colonel—”

“Ah.” She got it, I could tell.

“Is she in charge?”

“From the outside, I suppose it looks that way. She’s a bit of a benign dictator, but she’s smart as hell, and she listens to her advisors. I only wish they paid as much attention to her warnings. If so, we’d currently be operating at a higher state of readiness.”

Only a portion of her words made sense to me. “Readiness?”

“She’s been telling us for a while now that the Muties are gearing up for a major offensive—they aren’t the same mindless creatures we’ve been fighting for years. The last time I went out with her, I noticed the same thing. They set perimeters. They have patrols now. And they use scouts.” She paused, her features yielding to a worry that troubled me. “Then at Salvation we saw evidence they’ve mastered fire. What’s next, tools? Weapons?”

“We won’t survive that,” I said grimly.

“I’m aware, believe me. I just don’t know what to do about it. Alone, every settlement will end up just like Salvation. And I’m taking that loss personal … because last winter, when sickness set in here, Longshot came out in the middle of the cold snap to bring us medicine. A woman in your town made tinctures out of herbs, and without her, I suspect we’d have all died.”

“I wonder if she survived the fire.”

“If she didn’t, then the next time the bleeding fever rolls in, we’re done for. Did she have an apprentice, somebody who knew her recipes?”

“I wasn’t in Salvation very long,” I said in an apologetic tone.

“That’s right. You come from the underground tribes.” Her tone still sounded a little skeptical, as if I sprang from some mythical land beyond her reckoning.

And maybe it was exactly like that, as she couldn’t fathom the way I’d been reared, like the night girl, outside the reach of the sun. Even now, it hurt me more than it did normal people, and my eyes burned to the point that I put on my glasses when other people were staring right up at that glowing orange ball like it was the best thing they’d seen all day. At my core, I feared it as I did fire. Maybe it could warm you up and cook your food but it could be deadly as well.

At that point, I caught sight of Fade, who was reeling on his feet. From what I could tell, they had set him to hauling water and dumping out the bloody, dirty pails, rinsing rags, and generally doing scut work. After a hard march like we’d experienced, he must be feeling like the devil. If only he’d let me hold him or stroke his head, rub his shoulders. I knew I couldn’t make all bad things go away with a kiss, but it hurt not to be able to show how much I cared. I’d only recently learned the power of a gentle touch and now that freedom between us was gone.

Tully followed my gaze to Fade, a brow arched in curiosity. “He’s yours?”

Once I might’ve argued or hesitated to claim him. Not anymore. I nodded.

“You seem a trifle young to be married.”

That wasn’t what Fade and I were to each other. Momma Oaks and Edmund had spoken promises in front of the whole town. Fade had sworn his intentions were honorable, which I took to mean he intended to speak those vows someday, but we hadn’t gotten to that point. Still, it was nice to imagine things ending well, more than I’d permitted myself to envision before. Usually, I saw my life finishing on a bloody note, surrounded by Freaks. Until now, I’d always accepted the obligation to make that sacrifice for the good of the whole.

Those rules didn’t apply anymore. I was allowed to want things. More, to strive for them.

Belatedly, I realized she was waiting for an answer. “We’re promised.”

“Ah,” she said. “Well, you should go tend him before somebody else does. I see young Maureen looking him up and down like he’s a sweet she wants to try.”

“We’ll see about that.” I clenched my jaw and picked a careful path through all the pallets strewn on the floor.

Fade was saying in a taut voice, “I’m fine. I don’t need medical attention.”

“But your arm—” she started, reaching for him.

When he jerked out of range before she touched him, I knew a little shock of relief. It was small and wrong, no doubt, but his reaction proved that he wasn’t being difficult. His problem wasn’t something he could make up his mind to get over. What the Freaks had done to him left damage it would take time to heal. I wasn’t glad Fade had been hurt, only that he wasn’t lying to me. I shouldn’t have doubted even for a second. He never lied, even when it would be easier.

“I’ll take care of him,” I said to the girl.

She was my age, or thereabouts, with red hair caught up in a tall tail. Her eyes were dark brown, though, an interesting contrast. Boys would probably call her pretty, though her thwarted expression marred the overall picture. As I recalled, Tully had called her Maureen. After glancing between us and seeming not to like what she read, she stalked away with shoulders set.