The light trickled from the day, dimming to black, and then the stars winked into sight. Once, I had thought they were torches that belonged to winged people who lived in a city high above, but Mrs. James had taught me otherwise. Sometimes truth pared away the magic. Darkness would soon prevent us from moving farther, but then—I drew up short. We didn’t need the trail anymore.
I knew where they had taken him.
The Freak encampment surpassed anything I’d seen or imagined, a horde capable of conquering not only Salvation but every human settlement. It had to be a thousand strong; fires blazed into the night—doubtless stolen from our outpost—smoky signals announcing their presence without fear, for who would challenge them? Stalker grabbed my arm and pulled me down into the tall grass, though we were too far for them to smell or hear us.
Did that mean the village functioned as their outpost, keeping watch on us? I hadn’t been able to figure out what purpose it served, but this thought sent a shiver through me because their behavior had become eerily similar to ours. I wondered now if these Freaks had been assigned the task of taking Fade and Frank in a coming-of-age rite; if they brought back human prey, then they could become adults or something, like earning a name in the enclave. There was no way for me to know for sure, of course; it wasn’t like I could ask. But it made sense.
It was also possible that the village was unrelated to this horde. Just like there were different groups of humans, maybe there were other kinds of Freaks. For some reason, the monsters who stole my boy had avoided the forest settlement. Whatever the truth about the two factions, it didn’t impact my goal.
“Fade’s there,” I breathed.
I felt it in my bones.
Impossible odds. With our skill, we’d had a chance against a small hunting party, but Miles’s treachery delayed us too long, and they’d rejoined the horde. Keen night vision allowed me to glimpse their movement—so many Freaks. Quite apart from rescuing Fade, we had to get back and carry word. Preparations must be made.
“It’s your call,” Stalker whispered.
The seconds felt like hours and weighted with terrible uncertainty. But I could make the tough calls. I was pure steel.
“You can’t go with me. Your leg won’t hold at a run, and if something goes wrong … if I don’t make it back, you have to carry word to Longshot.”
His hands clenched into fists, and an agonized breath escaped him. “Don’t ask me to leave you, dove. Ask me anything but that.”
I touched his face, his scars, knowing this moment mattered. It might be our last. Stalker let me, as he always had, even when he said it would look like weakness. Something gave in my chest. “I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to find Fade. As long as it’s safe, wait over there until just before dawn, and then head back. If it gets ugly before then, then go. Move fast and quiet. Above all else, warn Longshot what’s coming. It might be our only chance.”
I’d never seen him look so grim. Despair etched his features, pulling his red scars taut. “If you want me to do this, then you need to kiss me good-bye.”
“Fair deal,” I said.
He’d stolen a kiss once, but this was the first time I leaned in on my own. This felt different too, maybe because it was my choice. His mouth was soft and warm beneath mine, lingering; I sat back, startled, but he wasn’t smiling. His expression told me he thought I wouldn’t survive the plunge into the seething Freak multitude. I had to admit, the chances didn’t look good. If I planned a frontal assault, I might as well stab myself in the chest and then lie down as breakfast.
That wasn’t on the agenda tonight.
Quietly, I outlined my plan, and he nodded. “It’s your only chance.”
Now I had to gather the supplies and wait.
* * *
There was no moon, just the starlight, but darkness didn’t frighten me. The horde did. Ruthlessly I fought down the fear and left my pack with Stalker. He was hidden in the tall grass near the lake, far enough away that the Freaks shouldn’t detect him. If I couldn’t get back before he left, I wouldn’t need provisions anyway—and extra weight would make my passage louder as I crept inside enemy lines. To succeed, I had to move like a ghost, like fog.
Can’t believe I’m doing this.
I’d returned to the forest’s edge earlier to collect my gruesome accessories, and I shuddered at what I was about to do. But if Freaks hunted by scent—and they did—then I had to cover mine. I couldn’t let a stray smell rouse them from their awful, flesh-devouring dreams. Closing my eyes, I took the entrails I had harvested from the Freaks and rubbed them all over my body and then added fetid blood.
Stalker watched me without expression. “I still want you, you know.”
“Like this?” I laughed to pretend I thought he was joking. If it spared his pride, it was worth him judging me a bit dim. Then I sobered. “Good hunting.” It was the highest compliment I could pay, acknowledging him as an equal, and he seemed to realize it. His smile came, quick as a cloud sweeping past the moon.
Without another word, I moved through the tall grass, slowly, so as not to draw attention. There might be sentries posted, or possibly some of the monsters were nocturnal. Either way, I had to risk it. This number of clustered Freaks smelled bad enough to make me nauseous. As I drew closer, I heard little sounds, like snoring, but more liquid in the throat, a wet gurgle, but it didn’t make me think they were in pain, quite the opposite. It was contented, a rumble I’d never heard from the Freaks, and I’d heard all manner of their screams, keens, cries, and growls.