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Ann Aguirre: Horde

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Ann Aguirre Horde

Horde: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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The horde is coming. Salvation is surrounded, monsters at the gates, and this time, they're not going away. When Deuce, Fade, Stalker and Tegan set out, the odds are against them. But the odds have been stacked against Deuce from the moment she was born. She might not be a Huntress anymore, but she doesn't run. With her knives in hand and her companions at her side, she will not falter, whether fighting for her life or Fade's love. Ahead, the battle of a lifetime awaits. Freaks are everywhere, attacking settlements, setting up scouts, perimeters, and patrols. There hasn't been a war like this in centuries, and humans have forgotten how to stand and fight. Unless Deuce can lead them. This time, however, more than the fate of a single enclave or outpost hangs in the balance. This time, Deuce carries the banner for the survival of all humanity.

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When next I woke, the world was a blur of snarls and yellow fangs.

Combat

By the angle of the sun as I rolled to my feet, it wasn’t quite noon, but the Freaks had found us. There were nine monsters, strong and well fed, so this wouldn’t be as easy as it had been before. Good thing my companions were all awake and preparing for a fight.

Stalker snapped at Tegan, “Get behind me.”

My blades slipped into my palms and I lunged at the four encircling Fade. I caught the first off guard with a slash to the torso, opening a gash in its hide. I noticed these lacked the festering sores of other Freaks I’d encountered. Their skin was sleek but tough, if mottled, gray. The stained fangs were the same, however, as were the razor-taloned hands slicing toward me. I spun to the side, ending the maneuver with a dual downward strike. My left knife nicked the creature’s arm, but neither wound was fatal. Bleeding and furious, the thing snarled at me, a challenge in its strangely human eyes. The irises were crystal clear, a stunning amber-yellow, with the sclera white by comparison. I had the unmistakable sense it saw me as a thinking person, not just meat, and yet it still meant to kill me. The realization stunned me, but not enough to keep me from dodging the next hit as another wheeled to face me.

Stalker dropped one of his with an efficient spike into the throat, leaving three. Fade had the next kill, gutting the Freak on the right from chest to groin. Entrails tumbled out in a meaty splatter, staining the grass at our feet. Another keened in grief—that awful, discordant cry that affirmed that the Freaks felt, that they suffered loss—and it went at Fade with a ferocity I found astonishing. It was furious, not just hungry. These behaved so differently from the mindless ones we’d fought down below.

I swiveled beneath the slashing claws and sank both my blades into the Freak’s abdomen, then I pulled the knives sideways with all my strength. That was a killshot. The monster went down as the next one lunged at me. I blocked the strike, but took a rake of claws across my forearm in doing so; this Freak was strong, enough that I felt the impact down in my bones. I had to learn a new way to fight them since they didn’t die as fast anymore. This was actual combat, not the havoc I once wreaked. Fade cried out as one of them sank claws into his shoulder and used the hold to reel him forward for a fatal bite. To my surprise, Tegan brought up my rifle from where she stood in the trees. I was none too sure of her aim, but the shot boomed out, opening the monster’s chest and dropping the one who had Fade. I lifted my chin at her in thanks, then I whirled into motion, my strikes faster, faster.

Tegan shot another as I finished my second. Then I moved to help Stalker, who had two left on him. I stabbed one low in the spine, paralyzing it, then Stalker’s lightning slashes finished the creature. I worked with him to bring down the last as Fade dropped another.

Finally, we had nine corpses and a bloody stink, while Tegan trembled, cradling the rifle to her chest. “I did it. I was afraid I’d shoot Fade but nobody else was close enough.”

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“They’re different,” Tegan said, staring down at the bodies. “Not just in physical appearance but in their habits, too. Did you notice they’re not wearing rags anymore? These Muties actually made clothes.”

She was right. They had poorly tanned skins fashioned into rough armor. But their oddities didn’t change our mission.

“We have to move,” I said. “Pack your gear. The rifle can be heard a long way off in open country, so I hope you all got enough rest. You’ll need it. We’ll tend wounds later.”

In minutes, we had our blankets rolled and stowed in our packs. I handed around some bread for us to chew on the move, then I checked the maps and our route. Stalker helped me orient to the path and we set out at a run while I wondered how long it would take for more Freaks to track the rifle shots. I didn’t doubt we could hold our own against most scouting parties, but each fight delayed and weakened us. Both Fade and I were injured; if we took more wounds, the trip to Soldier’s Pond might take even longer.

Salvation doesn’t have much time.

My feet pounded the earth, sending up a spray of dust behind me. “I think we should push to reach Soldier’s Pond tonight.”

“I can,” Tegan said, “if that’s what you’re asking. My leg’s fine.”

It had been, and I was glad she wasn’t defensive about it. We had to be realistic about our capabilities. “Good. You’re surprisingly handy with my rifle. Keep it.”

She flushed with pleasure, or it could be running in the heat of the day, which had warmed up with the sun. Light blazed forth, hurting my eyes, and I wondered whether I would ever get fully accustomed to it.

My forearm burned but it wasn’t enough to slow me down. Fade wouldn’t thank me for questioning his strength, so I didn’t ask about the bloodstained patch on his shoulder. Still, he was moving well, keeping up, so he couldn’t be in too much pain. I’d check on him later, provided he let me.

That was a long, grim day with only basic stops for sanitary functions and to gulp some water or swallow a handful of cheese. By nightfall, Tegan’s face was white with exhaustion and pain she wouldn’t acknowledge, but she didn’t ask any quarter. According to Longshot’s notes, this was a bruising trip, much longer than two days by wagon. But he had to care for the mules and let them rest, plus he was towing trade goods whereas we moved as fast as humans could.

The moon was high by the time I spied our destination across the plain. I didn’t know what I had been expecting, but this wasn’t it. From what I could see, this was nothing like Salvation, and a fearful sensation crawled up my back. I stopped, breathing hard, and when I did, exhaustion rushed in like a drowning wave, weakening my limbs to water.

“It looks like the ruins,” Stalker said.

I nodded. “Only it’s not completely destroyed.”

This was an old-world town, but they had cordoned off the heart of it with metal fencing, embankments, and ditches. There were lights too, different from the ones that burned down below or even in Salvation. These were odd and fixed, not fire at all, but more like magic from the stories Edmund told of long ago.

“Have you ever seen anything like that?” I asked.

Both Stalker and Fade shook their heads, but Tegan was studying the glimmer with a fascinated frown. “Not since I was a little girl. We had some in the greenhouse at the university that filled up with light from lying in the sun. Those look a little like that, only bigger.”

“I didn’t know old things like that still worked,” Stalker said. “We scavenged items sometimes but we couldn’t figure out how to operate them, except the tins.”

“That’s because you’re savages,” she said.

“We were,” he agreed quietly.

“How late is it?” I asked Fade.

He checked his watch. “Nearly midnight.”

I sighed. “We don’t have a choice. This isn’t the right time to make our appeal, but waiting won’t help, either. Let’s go.”

Though the perimeter looked deserted, I didn’t trust my eyes. My senses told me we were being watched. So I picked an easily tracked path across the field, waiting for a warning or a voice asking me to state my business. Neither came, right up until I set foot on the metal ramp that led down into the pocked street, similar here to what it had been in Gotham. I could see where the citizens of Soldier’s Pond had tried to keep the surface smooth, filling holes with packed mud and dirt, but it didn’t seal well enough to hide the damage, even at night.

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