Book 2 - Page 36 (2/2)

Squaring my shoulders, I agreed. I pushed forward at a measured pace, my movements small and silent. I sneaked past a knot of sleeping Freaks, my skin clammy with terror. Any minute they would rouse and snarl the alarm. Lunge at me with unreasoning hatred burning in their eyes, tearing me limb from limb.

I’ll be overwhelmed.

And none of that mattered. I was committed; a plan in place to ensure Salvation didn’t suffer due to my loss. If I died here, it wouldn’t be for nothing. It would be for Fade.

I swallowed hard, breathing lightly through my mouth. He didn’t want Stalker touching you, and look what you did. I shook my head. Who I kissed was the least of anyone’s worries. Emotions would get me killed, so I wadded them up and forced them away. I’d deal with it after I saved my boy.

Find him, Huntress.

Then I heard a noise that gave me hope. From somewhere within the camp came the sound of human weeping. I didn’t think it was Fade, but who knew how he would react in these circ.u.mstances? I’d probably cry too. I felt grateful for the guidance as I maneuvered around the sleeping Freaks. I wondered if they felt the same terror when they crept into the outpost, fear of our rifles, fear of discovery. Do Freaks fear death? It seemed I should have asked myself that question before.

In time, and through pulse-pounding dread, I came all the way to the center of the ma.s.sive horde. Crouched low, I stared with utter disbelief at the source of the weeping. Down below, dying brats sometimes sounded like this; the white-eyed brat Fade and I failed to save did as the guard hauled him away.

Human pens.

In Salvation, they kept small animals for milk, eggs, and occasionally meat. I was familiar with chickens and goats enough to understand the Freak purpose. Here, a rudimentary fence had been built, via stakes in the ground, similar to the ones they’d mounted the severed heads on, and those inside the enclosure had been hobbled to prevent them from escaping. Hysteria rose in me.

They want to domesticate us.

This must be a new development. If Longshot had seen—or heard of—anything like this during his trade runs, he would’ve informed Elder Bigwater. People would be talking about this all over town. Since he hadn’t, I could only conclude this was more emerging Freak behavior. Lucky me to get the first glimpse.

Regardless, I had a job to do. If Fade was anywhere, alive, he’d be in there. So I pressed closer, until I slipped inside. Most hostages lay insensible with horror or grief, apart from the woman who wept in quiet, choking sobs—and their captors were doubtless used to her noise; her pain covered my approach. I crept among the hostages, seeking Fade, and my heart fell a little further at each strange face.

They woke at my touch, moaning, recoiling when they smelled me. In the dark, they might think I was a Freak come for a midnight snack. I ignored their weak blows and scuttling movements in favor of cutting them loose. It was all I could do. Whether they chose to leave or stay, it was in their own hands.

“Be quiet,” I whispered as I went.

Some immediately scrambled toward freedom. Others stared in dazed wonder, as if they’d dreamed my arrival. I never saw Frank. I looked for him; I did, thinking of how I’d face his sister in Salvation, but he wasn’t anywhere in the pens.

Maybe they already ate him. Fade too.

No. I searched faster. At last I found my boy, beaten until I hardly knew him. His features were grotesquely swollen, eyes blackened, and lips split over his teeth. His scars identified him as I rolled him over, and I m.u.f.fled his groan with a hand over his mouth. Fade fought me like an animal. Even in his battered state, he managed to throw me. I landed on my back, the wind knocked out of me.

Around us, the horde was stirring, roused by fleeing humans. If we delayed any longer, they’d have us.

“Fade, it’s me. Deuce.” Avoiding his flailing arms and legs, I slashed his bonds and rubbed his hands and feet quickly, desperately. “Can you run?”

Please say yes. I don’t think I can carry you. I’d try, of course. And we’d both perish. I didn’t want to die here. It might be a glorious death for a Huntress, seeing how many I could take before I was overwhelmed and eaten, but the girl in me would rather run into the dark, in the confusion, and live.

“Deuce…?” He was making the connections too slow.

Snarls said more Freaks were waking up. Human screams filled the night air. I’d wanted to give them a shot at freedom, not use them to cover our escape. No time for remorse or regret. I couldn’t have left them tied up here while I freed Fade. It was time to move or we weren’t getting out of this alive. Our only hope was to be faster and bolder than those already fleeing through the horde.

“Run,” I begged him. “Don’t fight. Don’t stop. Just follow me and run.”

Flight

So many times, I shoved Fade ahead of me, dodged a lunging, snarling Freak, or leapt over the corpse of a person who hadn’t been so lucky, and we ran. For our lives. Only the darkness and upheaval saved us.

And the others who died in our stead.

But surely some of them got away. Maybe they would find Salvation and receive a second chance, as we had. If not, at least they wouldn’t die in the slave pens, butchered for their meat. Did the Freaks fatten them first? Revulsion shuddered through me, but I put it aside.

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