“This will be a tough fight,” I said softly.
Stalker nodded. “At night, against superior numbers? It’ll cost us.”
“I know. But the alternative is to leave Winterville to its fate.” Under no circumstances could I give those orders. If the rest of Company D abandoned the town, I couldn’t go. It might be the practical decision—one a Huntress would make—but I couldn’t save these people from the feral humans, only to let them die.
“Men!” I called.
They surrounded me at full attention, row by row, and I recalled that was the style in Soldier’s Pond. I didn’t usually require it, but the occasion merited formality, I supposed.
I had no fancy words, but I gave them what I knew. “It’ll be a rough night, our first big battle of the season ahead. Who wants to kill some Muties?”
“Company D,” they called back.
Not a single voice remained silent; they all shouted their intentions to the skies. If they died tonight, they’d go out as Hunters, one and all.
I squared my shoulders. “Then we need a plan.”
Fade turned in a slow circle, assessing the houses and the open terrain of the town square. “I think we can win. But we need to draw them here.”
“Count on my scouts for that,” Stalker said.
I thought I understood Fade’s plan. “Spence and Tully, I need you on those rooftops. I want constant fire from you until you run out of ammunition.”
“You’re them,” one of the Lorraine traders said in wonder. “Company D.”
I hadn’t noticed their approach, but it made sense they’d be here since they didn’t have houses to hide in, and the wagons offered limited cover. The lead driver wore a rifle on his back as Longshot had, and I wondered if he was any good with it. He seemed to read my thought—or maybe my look—because he drew it and held it like a man who knew which way to point it.
“We are,” I acknowledged. “But I don’t have time for introductions at the moment.”
I expected some disparaging remarks about my gender or my age, but to my surprise, the rifleman said, “Put us on a rooftop. We’ll fight with you.”
A boy crept out of the shadows then, hardly more than a brat. He was dirty and thin, eyes too big for his face. He reminded me so much of the white-eyed brat from down below that my stomach cramped. A weapon too big for him to lift came behind him, leaving trails in the dirt.
“I can shoot,” he said.
I saw the words forming on a trader’s lips, You can’t even lift that thing, son, so I cut him off. “How?”
“I can brace it. My dad taught me … before he died.” There was a wealth of sorrow and anger in those words.
“Where’s your mum?” Fade asked.
The brat lifted his chin. “Gone. You poured dirt on them both earlier today.”
Guilt flickered through me; I hadn’t even noticed him among the other mourners. Above the boy’s head, Fade caught my eyes, and I nodded. We’d take this chance to do the right thing.
“Go with the traders. I want you posted over there.” I indicated the tower where Fade had rung the bell. “Spence and Tully on the other side.” That structure wasn’t quite as tall, but it had a nice perch on the roof. “Barricade the door if you can, so they can’t get at you. The rest, stay with me. Remember our drills.” I planted the banner Momma had made in the ground, then told my men grimly, “Guard the flag with your lives. Don’t let them inside our line.”
“You heard the woman,” the lead driver snapped. “Move.”
Woman. That word felt as precious as my naming day; and maybe it was the first time Topside that anyone had looked at me and seen more than a silly girl. That man couldn’t see my scars and he didn’t know my story. He only knew what my actions told him, and apparently they said I was grown. But I had no time to savor the sensation.
Stalker’s scouts came at a run with what seemed like a thousand Freaks charging behind them. I shuddered, remembering my mad flight with Fade through the horde. It had to be worse for him, but he was steady as a rock at my side. All around us, Company D readied their weapons. I drew my knives five seconds before the Freaks hit us like a hammer—and we stood our ground, shoulder to shoulder, as lead slammed into the monsters from above.
Bodies jerked and fell all around me. I stabbed and slashed, my usual style forestalled by the need to protect Fade on my left and Sands, who had staggered in on my right. Tegan fought between Stalker and Morrow, her staff knocking them down for other soldiers to finish. She didn’t like to kill, but the girl had gotten deadly about defending herself. I held formation and turned my attention back to the next Freak charging toward me.
It snapped yellow fangs in visible threat. “Our land. Not yours.”
“You’ll have to take it,” I growled, just before I plunged my dagger into its chest.
Fade knocked one away from me and cut its throat. He too was all efficiency, keeping them off me as well as the soldier on his other side. We fought as a unit, not as separate Hunters, and it felt good when the enemy fell in droves around us. The night air chilled my skin but sweat warmed it up again. I sliced like the threshing blade we’d used in the fields. The Freaks were ferocious, but they couldn’t fathom the way we wouldn’t yield, not even a single step. They couldn’t surround us, couldn’t use their usual tactics. These creatures fought like pack animals, three or four on one victim, who usually went down to the overwhelming blood loss, not due to any particular skill. They were less organized than the ones who offered us the truce near Soldier’s Pond … and that made me think these were associated with the horde, possibly a vanguard. I risked a kick, though it pulled me forward a few steps, then someone from the church tower shot the thing, and Fade pulled me back.
“Careful,” he scolded.
“Sorry.”
A cry of pain from one of my men drew my eye. In the dark, I couldn’t tell who it was, but the man dropped, and we tightened the formation. Freaks tested our defenses from all sides, but we didn’t let them pass. They received bolts in the back, bullets in the side, and our knives everywhere else. Morrow was a lean shadow, dancing death with his slender blade. Now and then I caught Tegan watching him, and that made me smile, even as I blocked another lunge. The town square was a seething, snarling mess with bodies everywhere.
“Back up,” I called.
The fight blurred into a mass of claws and fangs, cries of pain. I fought until my arms ached, until one more swing of the dagger might make my arms fall off. The rifles popped until they ran out of ammunition on the rooftops, and then we had Spence and Tully, and the traders on the ground with us. Around that time, the Freaks realized they were losing, so they ran. We gave chase, but a handful of them escaped in the darkness, dodging around the buildings. I hoped they would carry word that this town was well defended, but I feared they were going after greater numbers for the next onslaught. I panted, hunched over with my hands on my knees. Then I took stock. Eight men down. Mouthing their names, I closed their eyes myself.
“We did it,” Tegan said.
Considering what we’d achieved, Silk would call this a win. I disagreed. Though we’d driven the beasts off, it didn’t feel like a complete victory. The traders had taken some damage too. One hurt, another dead, and the leader looked stone tired.
“That was quite a fight. John Kelley might’ve exaggerated when he called you an army, but he didn’t make up anything about your skill.” He turned along with everyone else as the brat came down from the tower, dragging his father’s gun. “You did good too, son. Saw three of them Muties go down under your fire.”
“What’s your name?” I asked the boy.
“Gavin,” he said.
From what he’d said, he had nobody left. If he did, they likely wouldn’t allow him to be here, fighting for a town that wouldn’t defend itself. “How would you like to join Company D?”
Bright as the moon overhead, the kid’s smile almost made up for all the men I’d lost.
Loss
By dawn, we had dug eight graves. My fingers were raw and blistered from the last twenty-four hours; there had been too much death and our numbers were decimated. In total, ten men from Company D died defending Winterville, and the townsfolk had hidden in their homes. The only real man among them was a brat named Gavin, who labored alongside me with as much grit as I’d ever seen.
Heart heavy, I signaled for the men to bring the bodies. We put them in the ground ourselves while I worried about the Freaks returning. We buried our dead together, and anger warred with grief inside me. I didn’t call the minister to offer more soft words. Instead I asked the survivors to speak on behalf of the fallen. That lasted until mid-morning with quiet reminiscences and comments on the everyday things that had made these men happy. Afterward, I asked those who’d known them best whether they left family behind. And six of them had.
That cut even deeper.
“It’s not your fault,” Fade said softly.
I couldn’t accept his comfort until I cleared my conscience. The look of those fresh graves lingered fresh in my mind as I strode through the silent town. When I arrived at the Meriwether house, I hammered on the door with both fists. To her credit, the mayor looked as if she hadn’t slept all night when she answered.
There was no greeting for an occasion like this, and I didn’t bother being polite. “The way I see it, you have two choices. You can form a militia or you can seek refuge in a town willing to take you in. I can’t guarantee we’ll get here next time. This is twice, and it’s time Winterville started saving itself.” I got up in her face. “No more awful potions, no more miracle solutions cooked up in Dr. Wilson’s lab. You don’t ask him for help again. Understand?”
“Not even in normal ways?” she asked, horrified.
I wasn’t trying to tell them how to run their town. “Anything to do with defense.” She offered a sorrowful nod, but all her sad looks wouldn’t bring my men back. So I went on, “We’re moving out, so whatever you intend to do, you’d best get to it. Hiding in your houses won’t do the job forever.”
“I understand. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. We won’t forget. I don’t know yet if we’ll have to abandon the town, but we’ll have a meeting to decide today.”
“As you like.”
Whirling, I ran toward the rest of the company. Fade snagged my shoulder and spun me to face him. “Not this way.”
“What?” I snapped.
“You can’t let them see you like this, Deuce. Later, you can fall apart and I’ll pick up the pieces, but right now, you have to be strong.”
Taking a deep breath, I realized he was right. So I held still until I could fix my face in a more suitable expression. The men would rightly read my pain as weakness; I had no business leading troops into battle if I couldn’t handle what came next. It was another hard lesson, but by the time we got back to the others, I had mastered it.
