Horde (Razorland 3)

“Lock up, please,” Wilson said.

The soldier closest to the door complied, then we followed Wilson to the large room where he’d hosted us first. My men didn’t relax; none of them looked at ease in this place. It was strange to them, just as it had been to me, and I hoped the scientist wouldn’t give his windmill lecture again. That might be the last straw.

“Somebody string this bastard up.” The demand came from one of the scouts, but I couldn’t see who’d spoken.

I whirled, fixing a hard stare on them. “We’re here to help, not impose punishment. His own people will decide if he’s guilty of anything.”

Wilson slammed a hand on the counter, rattling his glass odds and ends. “Who do you think begged me to find a solution? I told them it would take years and that the mutants might have changed by then. They insisted on a live trial over all of my objections, and I had pressure from Emilia in Soldier’s Pond too.”

That shut everyone up for a few seconds.

For the first time, I noticed how quiet the lab was, no ambient snarls or growls, and there was no accompanying Freak stench, either.

“What happened to your pet?” I asked.

Wilson lifted one shoulder, the posture of abject weariness. “Old age. Once it sets in, they go downhill fast. I did what I could to make him comfortable.”

The rest of us were horrified; he had been nursing a monster while his people ran amok and ate one another? Wilson really was crazy.

But Tegan showed signs of fascination. “Did you learn anything about the creature’s physiology while you had it in captivity? I’ve never heard of anyone studying a mutant.”

“We study all kinds of things,” Wilson said. “Or we did. The last year has been hard on the scientific community.”

“What the devil are you talking about?” Tully demanded.

Wilson sighed. “Winterville has always been split along two lines, the scientists who gathered to study the Metanoia virus and eventually developed the vaccine to treat it, and the lay people who supported them.”

“You mean those who did all the real work,” Thornton muttered.

From the rumble of agreement, other men felt the same. I sensed the mood getting ugly, after everything we’d seen today. To prevent a hanging, I needed to divert their attention, but Tegan did it for me. She was plainly curious, moving about the room with apparent absorption.

“So this was a research facility more than a town?” she asked.

The scientist indicated the lab, stocked with all manner of gadgets. “That’s the only reason I have this equipment. Most of it has long since stopped functioning, of course, as the people who knew how to repair it are long dead. A few things, my father taught me how to maintain, and it’s the reason I was able to extract enough genetic material to create that serum.” His face fell. “As it turned out, that was an appalling idea.”

“Seems to me you didn’t pay nearly enough,” Spence said. “You made this mess, then you nearly got some poor fellow killed calling us to clean it up.”

“Did Marcus get there safely?” Wilson asked then.

That would’ve been my first question, and his belated concern didn’t endear him to the rest of the men. I was familiar with how humans thought; they wanted somebody to blame for the evil they’d witnessed here. A time or two, I’d been accused of things I didn’t do, according to that mob justice. So as much as I’d wanted to hang him myself, I couldn’t let my men make Wilson a scapegoat.

“He did,” I said. “He was resting in fair health when we left.”

“What’s the Metanoia virus?” Tegan asked.

“It’s what started the end of everything.”

“Ah.” Doubtless she remembered my summary of our conversation with Dr. Wilson and what he’d told us about what led to the collapse.

Red-eyed and fearful, Danbury cleared his throat, reminding me that we had a problem. I said, “I need to know how dangerous it is if we were bitten by one of the afflicted.”

“No more than any human bite,” Wilson answered. “The human mouth is filthy. But the mental deterioration you noticed sprang from adverse bioreaction to the mutant pheromones I released, not from viral or bacterial infection.” The scientist shook his head. “Regardless of the external pressures, I’m not reckless enough to experiment with viruses. They’re the most dangerous and insidious form of contagion.”

What he’d done with the potion seemed plenty irresponsible to me, but I didn’t know what a virus was, so maybe it was worse. From that moment, Tegan looked at Dr. Wilson like he wore a silver crown, and she pelted him with questions regarding things I might’ve wondered about too if my men weren’t tired and hungry and Winterville still such a mess.

“In the morning,” I said, “we’ll advise the townsfolk that it’s safe and help with cleanup. For now, find a place to bed down and eat whatever you have left in your pack. I’ll make sure we get a hot meal tomorrow.”

Danbury was frowning. He peeled back the bandage to stare at the bite on his arm. The afflicted must’ve died before he or she could really dig in. “What did all of that mean?”

“Just watch for infection. You won’t go crazy.”

That seemed to relieve him. All around the lab and in the hall, men laid out their bedrolls. I had no idea how late it was, but between the day’s horrors and the hard travel behind us, I was too tired to be hungry. On impulse, I left the lab and followed the turns of the corridor until I found the cages where Dr. Wilson had kept Timothy. They all stood empty, and they had been cleaned, so the room smelled sharply of vinegar, no hint of Freak at all.

Without turning, I recognized Fade’s footfalls as he came up behind me. “It’s so odd to think of them dying of old age.”

“Like people.”

That was part of what bothered me about all of this. The more the Freaks changed, the more they became like us. How many more generations before they spoke and thought as well as we could? At that point, their faster development meant they would outpace us in the breeding department. Another question ate at me—maybe the monsters were supposed to survive. Not us. And how could I fight nature on such a scale?

Weary, I leaned my head against the door frame. I should go back and lead by example, but I needed a quiet moment. Just one. Fade put his arms around me, looping them so that he could rest his chin on my shoulder. His warmth felt good, and the men were safe for the moment. That was a heavy burden, thinking about so many other people all the time. I didn’t ever want to be an elder if it meant this much pressure. Maybe it was why so many lost their minds and made decisions for all the wrong reasons.

“You were right,” he said quietly.

“About what?”

“I needed to lead today, though I was mad at you for making me do it.”

Oh. I guessed our current position meant he’d gotten over it. “You brought back your whole team, so I knew it went well. But I had no doubts.”

“I did,” he admitted. “I was afraid I’d lock up or panic.”

“You’ve fought since you were taken.”

“It’s harder when your choices affect other people,” he pointed out.

So true.

“But you coped. No matter what life offers, you just fight harder. I love that about you.”

I could tell he was smiling when he nuzzled the curve of his lips into my neck. “Let’s see if we can find a place to clean up.”

Since I didn’t care for the idea of sleeping in travel dust and the blood of the day’s battles, I followed him. The lab complex was bigger than it looked from the outside, as corridors crisscrossed the length and breadth of it. There were also stairs down, but I’d had enough of darkness, so I steered us away from there. At length we found a cleaning room with a spigot that provided a gush of water.

Fade and I took turns rinsing off, and I was conscious of my heart beating in my throat as I scrambled into clean clothes. I’d like to see what he looked like with nothing on, but this wasn’t the time or place. I cursed those girlish impulses as Fade strode out with damp hair flopping into his eyes. In the winter months, he tended to let it get shaggy, providing more warmth, and then as the sun shone brighter, he often hacked it off. It didn’t matter to me what he did with it; I enjoyed gazing at him regardless. By his expression, the feeling was mutual.

Fade appraised me with warm, dark eyes, and it was as powerful as a kiss. “I could look at you forever and never get tired of your face.”

His words flooded me with pleasure so sharp it pierced like pain. That was better than saying I was beautiful, though he’d done so before. This moment felt like a forever-thing, because he saw me when he looked in my eyes, and I’d always be that person, no matter how the years changed me. With that tender weight between us, we returned to the main hall. When the men saw we’d found hygiene facilities, they demanded directions. In twos and threes, they went off to tidy up as well before breaking bread—and I decided I hadn’t done such a bad job of leading by example. A girl could do worse than inspiring soldiers to bathe. Fade and I ate dry meat and stale bread, typical of road food. As I washed it down with tepid water, I imagined a roast goose like Momma Oakes used to make in Salvation with all the trimmings: creamy sweet potatoes swimming in butter and honey, brown bread, green beans, and berries in cream.

“You look like you’re in pain,” Stalker said.

His face was drawn, eyes shadowed in the flickering light. The death of his teammate weighed on him, I suspected. We’d lost a lot of good men in the summer patrols as well, but it was different when you had the charge of them. Instead of a bad turn in battle, it felt like a personal failure.

“A little.” I told them both what I’d been envisioning, and Fade groaned.

“You delight in cruelty.” There was a sweetness in his teasing that I hadn’t seen in so long, like he was before, when it was just him and me against the world.

Stalker turned to Fade with a polite expression. It sat oddly on his scarred features, like a hat tailored to another head. “I’d like to speak with Deuce in private, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s not up to me,” Fade answered.

Stalker nodded. “It’s not personal, if you’re worried about that. I have no intention of causing any trouble between the two of you. I just need a word.”

Part of me felt aggravated that he’d asked Fade, like he was in charge of who got to talk to me. But the rest appreciated the gesture, thereby acknowledging that Stalker understood how things stood between Fade and me. I ignored those conflicting reactions and accompanied him all the way to the door. That seemed like an excessive precaution, if he feared somebody eavesdropping. The men were all seeing to their own needs.

He took a deep breath. “There are a few things I need to say, if you’ll hear me out.”

“Go ahead.”

He folded his arms, but not in a defensive way, more like he needed a hug, and there was nobody to give him one. I didn’t move. Touch was a precious gift, and I didn’t offer it freely. The distance between us came for good reason, as he didn’t seem to be able to separate the quiet warmth of a friend as opposed to the way I reacted to Fade, who had exclusive kissing rights.