Ann Aguirre: Horde

The first one lashed out at me and I met the strike with a slice of my blade, opening its forearm from elbow to wrist. Oddly, the blood smelled less fetid to me, if not quite what normal humans had. I sniffed as I followed up with my left knife, carving a path across its chest. More salt and something else, but this Freak no longer reeked as if it were rotting from within. It just smelled … different, and that worried me, but I reacted with dead calm, blocking second and third strikes. The fourth one nailed me, and it hurt. With Fade at my back, I couldn’t retreat. I had to hold my ground for him.

I felt his movements behind me, full of his old grace. Now and then he grunted a curse, muffled a sound of pain. I finished the first one with a downward arc of my knife. Four to go. Gunfire banged in sharp repetition some yards away.

So all the guards aren’t dead. They’re fighting in that inferno.

The Freak dropped at my feet, giving the others room to spread out. They didn’t growl or keen in grief; no, these were warriors, bent on my death. With more room to maneuver, they could swing wider and at the same time. I battled two at once while the third and fourth snarled, looking for an opening, but they couldn’t get to me without knocking their comrades aside. Freaks had progressed far enough that they didn’t shove one another down to get at their prey.

They’re fully organized. The thought chilled me, even as I severed two claws. Still twitching, they hit the grassy ground, smearing green with red, though in the dark it was impossible to tell. Blood spurted from the stumps, then the beast lunged at me with its other talons. Its partner came at me from the side and nearly took my head off. I was tired from the march, too slow to offer my best efforts. But Fade came across my shoulder and stabbed the Freak right through the eye.

When I glanced back, just for a second, I saw he’d already dropped three, and the other two were showing signs of fear. They hadn’t broken and run but they’d backed off a few steps, snarling to show they meant business, but when that wasn’t followed by an immediate attack, it meant he had successfully intimidated them. I loved seeing him back in fighting form, even as I was a little ashamed of my own performance. But maybe Fade needed me to be weak occasionally, giving him the opportunity to be strong. That was all right by me; it wasn’t like I was doing this on purpose.

I’m just so tired.

“Don’t make me do all the work.” His tone was lighter than I’d heard in days.

“I’m trying.”

But when I barely blocked a blow that would’ve impaled me, he snarled like a beast; and like he had done down below, I watched him come unhinged. I knew enough to scramble out of his way as Fade went berserk, his knives a silver blur in the starlight. Moments later, there were ten bodies at his feet and he was covered in blood, breathing hard through his nose.

I approached with care, keeping an eye on the periphery. “Thanks. I was flagging.”

“Don’t I scare you when I get like that?” he asked, low.

I said with conviction, “No. You’d never hurt me.”

“I already have.”

“Not with your knives. Come on.” I cut the discussion and wheeled toward the burning town, determined to help if at all possible.

But the heat was too fierce near the walls and I couldn’t cross. Maybe if I had a wagon or some buckets, I could work on the fire, but my knives were no help at all and I could hear Freaks nearby. This wasn’t a rescue; it was just foolish. My heart dropped into my stomach. Then I saw someone moving near the walls.

Desperate, I yelled, “There’s a secret exit under Elder Bigwater’s house, a tunnel that leads out of town. Round up as many people as you can and get them out!”

“Thanks, Deuce! Will do,” came the shouted reply. Through flickering orange flames, I caught a glimpse of the man moving off, and I was relieved to recognize Harry Carter. He’d saved my life, done me a good turn when Longshot died, and it was right to repay the favor.

Fade beckoned impatiently. “We need to get away, direct the others to the tunnel mouth if they’re still here.”

I nodded. “Lead on.”

The run was harrowing since we were dodging prowling Freaks the whole time, and I was relieved to see Morgan and others right where we’d left them. “If you were one of my soldiers, you’d get a dishonorable discharge so fast it’d make your head spin.”

“But I’m not,” I pointed out.

The older man scowled. “Did you accomplish anything, at least?”

Tegan and Stalker were both talking over each other with incoherent recriminations. My fingers were bloody, and I was soot-stained, but I was no more injured than I had been in any other battle. I hushed them with a gesture, addressing Morgan.

“I think so.”

Concisely, I explained about Harry Carter and the tunnel. Tegan and Stalker stood nearby, listening. Fear and pain crimped her brows together, flattened her mouth into a pale line. I knew she was worried about her family.

Me too.

“Why do you think they weren’t evacuating already?” Tegan asked softly.

I shrugged. “Maybe Elder Bigwater died before he could tell anyone.”

“Zach knew about it,” Stalker said.

That much was true. But we wouldn’t know why until we rescued some of the townsfolk, provided that was even possible. Hopefully Harry Carter could get people rounded up and make them listen, but terror made it hard to think straight. Between fire and Freaks, the citizens of Salvation weren’t equipped to deal with danger on this scale.

“Can you find the outlet?” I asked him.

With a nod in lieu of a wordier reply, Stalker bounded off. Morgan was already signaling his men to follow.

“Stay sharp,” he ordered.

Good advice, as it was likely we’d fight as a whole before too long. In the distance, I made out screaming from those who hadn’t reached the tunnel. I couldn’t remember ever being this scared. I wanted to rescue my family—Momma Oaks, Rex, and Edmund—and I didn’t know whether it was possible. Truth be known, I’d rather save everyone.

“How big is the tunnel?” Morgan asked me.

“Not very. The townsfolk will be fleeing a few at a time.”

“I hope they have the sense not to panic once they climb out,” he muttered.

Though it sounded callous, I hoped so too. People running and screaming in the dark would draw the horde down on us, leaving no chance for escape. The rest of us ran after Stalker, who paused now and then to check a landmark. He kept the route in his head, no need for Longshot’s maps. If he couldn’t recall where the passage let out—

But he led us straight to it, and to my relief, we found a few citizens hiding nearby, mostly women and children. I didn’t see Momma Oaks among them. My heart sank even as more people crawled out of the earth, filthy, terrified, some burned or wounded. Tegan got to work immediately, tending the injured.

Morgan drew me aside. “How long do you plan to wait? We need to move before dawn. We’ll be easier to track escorting the refugees.”

He was right, but that didn’t make the truth easy to bear. “I know. Give us as long as you can.”

The Soldier’s Pond guard checked his personal timepiece, similar to the one Fade had from his sire. “Three hours, then we march. No sleep tonight.”

More screaming, cries of pain, echoed from the burning settlement. The report of rifles said that the guards were buying as much time as they could for the noncombatants to escape. I wished I could break from cover and go kill some Freaks, but that would only give away our position. It would happen soon enough on its own; there was no way to hide so many souls. The moment the wind shifted, it would carry our combined scents to the monsters. Then it would be up to us to cover the retreat.