by Ann Aguirre
“You have no idea how happy this makes me,” I whispered.
His voice was somber. “It makes me feel less broken. It helps when I can plan it and consider all the reasons it’s a good thing, first. I still quake like a child over loud noises, sudden touches, people popping out at me unexpectedly—”
“That’s normal,” I said, though I had no idea whether it was. Then it occurred to me how I could best help him—by reassuring him he wasn’t alone. “I never told you this, but I have nightmares. The blind boy from down below, usually. Since we came Topside, there are more … being taken by the Wolves, and later, when I feared I’d lost you forever … that’s the worst. I’m in the woods again, it’s dark and I’m alone, and I’m surrounded by the horde, only this time, I’m covered in my own blood, not their entrails, so they’re all staring right at me. I know I’m going to die—that I failed you and it’ll be my fault that—” The tears surprised me, choking my words.
That you die. I don’t save you.
Before this moment, it hadn’t occurred to me that my weakness would matter to him. Fade levered up on his elbow and tugged on my shoulder. I could tell he wanted me to face him. Another gentle pull, and I succumbed. His eyes were wide and soft, surprised even, in the moonlight, like he hadn’t known I could suffer the same way he did. Well, maybe not the same, but if he was damaged, I surely was too. I strangled the weeping with a few sharp breaths.
“You’re not as strong as I thought.”
“I know,” I said miserably. “Silk always said that. She told me over and over that I have a Breeder’s heart, and I’ll never be a true Huntress.”
“You’re stronger. Much as I love you, I always thought you don’t feel things like I do. But the truth is, you just hide it better. You carry it around without ever asking anybody to help shoulder it. I’m so sorry. I just … left you, hurting, and I was so worried about being worthy that I never once suspected you need me too.”
My voice came out small in the dark. “I do.”
For once, the Huntress was in complete agreement with the girl.
Fade trembled when he touched my hair. “I promise I won’t go away again, even inside my head. And you tell me about the bad dreams from now on. Please don’t hide. Not from me.”
“Then in the interest of full honesty, I really wish you’d kiss me right now.”
Apart from the blind nuzzling in his sleep, he hadn’t touched me like that since his return. Considering it hadn’t been very long since we started sparking, I missed it a whole lot. His breath misted my forehead, and Fade pressed a kiss there, delicate as a moth’s wing. That wasn’t what I had in mind, but I feared spooking him. He dusted kisses along my temple down to my cheekbone, then I couldn’t help it. I turned my head so my mouth met his. He made a soft sound, and I was in accord.
I didn’t grab on to him, though I wanted to. He had conveyed to me that touching went easier when he was in charge of it—braced for it—and so I kept my hands still. Somehow that only made me more conscious of the hot glide of his lips, and the way his body lit mine up like a summer night, all heat and starlight. His tongue grazed mine; it was all I could do not to leap on him. Proud of my self-control, I lay in the circle of his arm after he broke the kiss, dreaming of the day when I could again touch him freely.
With a soft sigh, Fade rested his forehead against mine. “We should get to sleep. It will be another long day tomorrow.”
He was more right about that than he knew.
Winterville
Freaks harried us all the next day.
Past dawn, they caught our scent, and Fade and I ran like the devil was at our heels. At one point, we crossed the river, hoping they’d lose us in the water, but no such luck. Since it was shallow enough for us to pass, they could too. I found it interesting that two people in the wilderness could draw so much attention. Was it possible they suspected the importance of our mission? If so, we were in more trouble than I’d reckoned.
With them prowling in our wake, there was no chance to stop for more than minimal food, water, and hygiene breaks. Sleep was out of the question, so we ran on into the night, until the pitch darkness made it likely we’d break an ankle on the uneven terrain. I slowed, scanning the horizon as the noises grew louder behind us. If I didn’t spot shelter, the Freaks would find us, and we’d end up fighting in the dark. My night vision could compensate but Fade might not fare as well. Therefore, I was determined to find us a place to hide.
I spun in all directions, then pointed. “This way.”
To his credit, Fade didn’t ask. He just followed me as I ran. The dot resolved as I drew closer. From this range, I made out an abandoned house, bigger than the one we’d camped in that first winter after we left the ruins. There were outbuildings on the property too; and from my history lessons, I suspected we had stumbled on a farm. Ancient machinery sat in rusted hulks, creating eerie shapes in the darkness. I ignored them as I darted past.
The door was still standing, though hanging drunkenly on its hinges. I had hoped for a secure location if not a secret one, but this would have to do. Inside the house, I found pests and scavengers, droppings and old nests. A rickety flight of stairs led up, and at the top, there was a door with a wooden crossbar. I shut it quietly and lowered it in place. If they tracked us here, we could defend the room better than an open field, plus they would expend strength and energy in breaking down the door.
“This is as good as it gets,” I said, surveying the dusty space.
My muscles trembled with weariness. In hindsight, I had no idea how Fade and I had functioned down below on so little food. No wonder my people died young.
“At least we have a roof and four walls. More than we had last night.”
But last night we had kissing.
That didn’t seem like a worthwhile protest, however. I sank down to the dirty floor, one hand on my knives. If the Freaks proved as relentless as they had been all day, they would be here soon. I didn’t suggest sleep for obvious reasons. Fade sat down near me and we listened.
He heard it first and crept to the window with me close at his heels. Through the smudged and filthy glass, I glimpsed a cluster of Freaks doggedly tracking us toward the house. I counted at least ten, a large party for the two of us. But if they had taken to traveling in small war bands, then we were lucky there weren’t more of them.
“I don’t know if I can take five of them,” I admitted in a whisper. “Is this how aging goes? First you feel incredibly tired, you weaken, and then your reactions slow—”
Fade was laughing softly. “You’re ridiculous. You’re not getting old, Deuce. It’s just been a rough run, and you got precious little rest, helping Tegan. You’re also recovering from multiple injuries, and we had an exhausting trip to Soldier’s Pond.”
Put that way, it had been a tough month. “If a straight fight is out, what should we do?”
“I have an idea,” he said.
The Freaks were at the door downstairs now. I heard them snarling in the yard, then the front door banged open. Their claws rasped on the wood floor as they prowled below us. Despite my faith in Fade’s cleverness, a chill raced through me.
“Make some noise,” he said, as he piled things up in the center of the room: broken bits of furniture and rags that might’ve been curtains, ages ago.
That seemed like a bad plan, but I trusted him enough not to argue. I stomped my feet, walking in circles, then I heard the monsters scramble up the stairs. The first body hit the door and the bar bowed with the pressure; it wasn’t strong enough to keep them out indefinitely. A snarling discussion followed, as if they were debating their options.
I understood when Fade touched his father’s lighter to the rags and dry wood. The flames curled up immediately, spreading to the floor that was riddled with dry rot. He ran over to the window and slid the sash up. With an impatient gesture, he beckoned.
“We need to get out of here and set a couple more fires downstairs. With any luck, the
se Freaks aren’t part of the group that burned Salvation, so they won’t understand the danger until it’s too late.”
He intends to burn them alive.
Without further hesitation, I scrambled over the sill and dangled by my fingertips. There was no tree branch to swing onto as there had been at the Oakses’ place so I dropped and hoped for the best. I landed hard, but I didn’t break anything. Fade came down more gracefully and tugged me to my feet. Time was critical. We gathered more rubbish to serve as kindling and lit the house up at both doors, front and back. The fire spread quickly, fanned by the breeze blowing through. Soon the whole building was engulfed in orange flames, creating a huge glow against the night sky. This might cause more problems for us down the line if the blaze attracted more enemies, but we wouldn’t be here to see it. I lingered only long enough to hear the monsters screaming as they burned, then I ran after Fade, who was already on the move.
“They won’t bother us again,” he said with certainty.
Still, to be safe, we traveled through the night and didn’t stop until we had a full eight hours of distance between that hunting party and us. At last I collapsed, winded, and I couldn’t go on. Fade was right there with me, his face flagged with windburn. He leaned against me, seeming not to realize how easy the gesture was, and I didn’t remind him.
“We won’t make Winterville without a break,” I panted.
“You sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
Before, he’d said we could afford to rest at the same time. His caution had to mean he thought there were more Freaks in the area. I didn’t hear or smell them, but Fade had better instincts for such things, no doubt honed by his years alone down below, where his survival depended on knowing where the monsters were before they found him.
“Just an hour or two, then you. And we’ll press on.”
He neither agreed nor argued, and I lay down. Fade rested his hand on my hair. I expected to be so conscious of him close by that I couldn’t sleep, but I underrated my exhaustion. When he jostled me a few hours later, I couldn’t believe how soundly I’d gone out.
“Any problems?”
“A few squirrels threw nuts at you.”
“That’s not the kind of problem I meant.”
He smiled. “I know, but things were quiet. Your watch?”
“I’m on it.”
Luck held long enough for Fade to catch a nap, and I had food ready—such as it was—when I woke him. We drank and ate in silence. I hoped we reached Winterville soon; and to that end, I checked the map, comparing Longshot’s notes with where we were. Sometimes it was hard to judge since he kept mostly to wagon routes whereas Fade and I ran cross-country, taking the most direct route. But near as I could tell, the Freaks had only driven us a little off course. Longshot and I hadn’t spoken much about the other settlements, so I was glad he’d written memos along the edges of his maps. It was like receiving his advice when I needed it most.
Another day of breakneck travel and dodging the monsters found us outside the city limits. I said city because it reminded me of the ruins, only it wasn’t damaged in the same way. It wasn’t nearly as big as Gotham, either. Around the edges, Winterville had buildings made of brick and stone, towering compared with the homey structures I had admired in Salvation. Well-kept stands of grass lined the avenues, which were paved with stones and neatly swept. There was no gate, either—no wooden wall or barbed metal fencing—but I mistrusted my eyes. Surely no settlement could be wholly unprotected. Fade and I exchanged a glance as we approached. I expected to encounter some security measure, some hidden threat, like a man with a rifle aimed at us, but we passed into Winterville without a single warning.
“This makes me uneasy,” I said.
But I didn’t smell anything, or at least, the scent was too faint for me to place it. If the Freaks had destroyed the place, they would still be there, and the buildings wouldn’t be so intact. The monsters tended to break windows and doors in their desperation to kill all humans hiding inside. Here, it was like nothing bad ever happened, as if Winterville was a special, blessed place. Momma Oaks would say her god smiled on it.
Just when I was starting to think nobody was here, a woman stepped out her front door. She looked startled to see us, but she lifted a hand in careful greeting. “What brings you around, strangers?”
There’s nothing stranger than this.
Fade answered for us. “The colonel sent us from Soldier’s Pond. She said Dr. Wilson has been working on a project and should have some information.”
“Ah.” The conflict in her expression cleared. “Then you want to follow this main road through town. When you come to the research annex, hang a left. Then go down two blocks, turn right, and knock on the back door of the lab.”
“What’s a block?” I asked.
She eyed me like I was simpleminded. “Two streets. The lab is where Dr. Wilson works. It’s a white building, no windows at all.”
That should be easy enough to find, though Winterville was bigger than I’d expected, based on what I’d seen of the world so far. “Are all these houses occupied?”
“No,” she said sadly. “Less than half, now.”
“Did the Muties get them?” Fade remembered to use the topside word.
“No. Since Dr. Wilson spread the pheromones, we’ve had less trouble with attacks, but … there have been other problems.”
She didn’t volunteer what those might be, and I didn’t ask. Our job wasn’t to fix Winterville, only to get the necessary information and survive the return trip. But I did wonder: “Do you have a standing military?”
Once again, she shook her head. “It’s possible to coexist peacefully with the mutants if you know how to avoid enraging them.”
With a polite smile, I decided she was insane. I followed her directions, hoping they weren’t as crazy. No matter her personal delusions, she did tell us how to find Dr. Wilson. As we stood outside his lab building, I felt properly grateful.
“It looks like a giant box,” I said.
The lack of windows made the place distinctive, but it also looked rather like a cage, a place where you hid things you didn’t want the light to reveal. Mustering my nerve, I circled around and rapped sharply on the back door, as instructed. I waited what seemed like a long time before I repeated the knock. Fade tapped his foot, no more pleased by the delay than I was.
Eventually I heard shuffling movement within and a white-haired man opened the door, squinting at me with obvious annoyance. He looked as if he hadn’t bathed in days and a noisome stench wafted from the darkness behind him.
“What do you want?” he demanded. “I’m a busy man.”
“I’m sure,” Fade said politely.
“May we come in? We bring word from the colonel in Soldier’s Pond.”
“Ah, Emilia, yes, has it been that long already? I suppose it has or you wouldn’t be here. Just let me fetch my notes, come along.” He babbled the words with scarcely a pause for breath, shuffling back the way he’d come with the apparent expectation we’d follow him with no questions asked.
We did.
Fade shut the door behind us. The slam made me flinch, but it also meant this was a good solid door, and it wouldn’t give way, no matter how the Freaks battered at it. But the crazy woman had said they didn’t have trouble with raiding—and the state of their town supported her claim, however outlandish it sounded. Dr. Wilson moved ahead of us, turning left and right, seemingly at random. The hall was dim, so I was left blinking when we stepped into a large, well-lit room.
These lights were similar to the magical-looking ones in Soldier’s Pond that they claimed were powered by the sun. But if possible, these were brighter still. I had never seen anything like them and, as Wilson peered at a mess of papers, I crept closer to the lamp. It hurt my eyes a little.
“Don’t touch it,” the doctor snapped.
I drew my hand away, guiltily. “I’m sorry.”
“It’ll burn you. I suppose you’re a s
avage who’s never seen electricity before?” Wilson sighed the question.
I shook my head, though I wasn’t sure what he was asking. The scientist launched into a complicated explanation about windmills, grids, power sources, and currents, and I understood none of it.
But Fade was looking at him in amazement. “My dad told me stories about the old wonders. And you got them working?”
“It’s not so great a thing, the least of my discoveries,” Wilson said modestly.
It was clear Fade had a burgeoning case of hero worship. Tegan would love to meet Wilson, I thought, and ask all kinds of questions about doctoring. But the colonel had said he wasn’t a medical man, so maybe his knowledge about windmills meant he couldn’t tell her anything about fixing the human body.
“I can report limited success in the trials,” he said, “but I wasn’t able to weaponize the pheromones as Emilia hoped, and there were … complications.”
That was only so much gibberish to me, but before I could say so, a snarl echoed through the warren of hallways. I froze; I knew that sound down to my blood and bone.
Somehow, there were Freaks in here.
Shock
I expected the old man to panic, but he didn’t look worried. He waved a hand dismissively, still rummaging in his papers. “That’s just Timothy, nothing to be alarmed about.”
Fade said, “Where we come from, sir, Muties inside a dwelling means big trouble.”
The scientist sighed. “You won’t be satisfied until I prove there’s no threat, will you? Come then. Let’s get this over with.”
He led us out of the main room, which was full of equipment for which I had no name, but I recognized the articles as belonging to the old world, which I had believed to be lost. I was a little awed that any of the things still worked and that Dr. Wilson employed them as a matter of course. Soldier’s Pond had more such artifacts than Salvation, where they eschewed old technology by choice, but this was a veritable treasure trove of functioning equipment. The Wordkeeper—the man who guarded our relics down below—would’ve been astonished.
