Horde (Enclave Series) (27 page)

“Yes, sir,” they chorused.

I went on, “We have a devil of a mess to tidy up. While it’s true we didn’t make it, the people trapped in those houses are counting on us. I have no idea whether what Wilson did to these poor madmen is contagious, so protect yourselves from their teeth.”

Tegan bounced, which I took to mean she had something to add. “Blood can carry diseases, too, so be careful. Try not to get it in your eyes or mouths, and if you have any open wounds, make sure they’re covered before the battle begins.”

“Anything else, Doc?” She flushed with pleasure when I called her that, but she shook her head. That was the extent of her warnings, apparently.

“Excellent. Some of you may hesitate when it sinks in—that we’re fighting people. But remember, there’s no help for them. That’s the reason Wilson kept them penned up; he was trying to find a cure, but they’re broken beyond fixing, and it’s a kindness to put them down.” The words sounded hard and cold to my own ears, but the men were nodding. “Now then, team leaders: Stalker, Fade, me, Morrow.”

The storyteller looked surprised to be called out, but he was smart, and he’d lead his men with the same care and wisdom he’d offered Tegan during their training sessions. To avoid any question of favoritism and for the sake of speed, men counted off by fours and then divided up accordingly. I ended up with Thornton and Spence, but not Tully, along with Tegan, three scouts, Zach Bigwater, and three fresh recruits. It was a good mix of skills with enough veterans that we should be able to compensate if Zach panicked under pressure.

“Everyone knows who’s in their squads?” I asked.

They agreed in unison that they did.

“Good. Then, Stalker, you take the eastern section. I’ll go west. Fade, you have the north, and, Morrow, you’ve got the south, where the problem started. But from what Stalker said, there’s trouble all over Winterville now.”

“I’m clear on the objective,” Stalker said.

Morrow inclined his head. “Me too.”

But Fade stepped close, gesturing to his men to wait a second. They were checking their weapons, talking in low voices about the fight to come.

He leaned in with a furrowed brow. “Are you positive you want me in charge?”

I understood that he thought he wasn’t the Hunter he had been, and he had doubts about his leadership. But Fade needed to stop treading in my shadow; he was every bit as fierce and strong as he had been, maybe more so. Blasted few people could survive an experience like his. Even less would be able to wade into battle afterward. He was one of the strongest, bravest people I’d ever known, and it was past time for him to acknowledge that.

One step at a time.

When I met his gaze, I didn’t do so as the girl who loved him or the Huntress partnered with him down below. My tone was firm and cool. “Are you questioning my judgment?”

I read the shock in his gaze, quickly veiled by a thick sweep of lashes. Then he stepped back. “No, sir. I have my assignment.”

I pitched my voice to carry. “When you clear your quadrant, head for the lab at the center of town. You can’t miss it.” I described the building, just in case. “Now let’s get this done.”

Slaughterhouse

If anything, Stalker understated the chaos and carnage.

Winterville reeked of infection and death. The wind carried the stench from all corners, which told me nothing about where we’d find the afflicted ones. I stepped over a puddle of blood and scanned the area before I led my group west. Bloody palm prints stood out in sharp relief on the pale metal of the buildings. Zach Bigwater was an unknown quantity, but fortunately, I had veterans to compensate for his inexperience, and the rest of my team should be competent. My nerves drew taut as I listened. With a glance at Tegan, I confirmed that she heard it too.

Forty paces on, we ran into the source of the noise. Ten feral humans surrounded a house, scrabbling at the barricaded windows, and their utter wrongness pierced me like a blade. As we approached, they turned—an uncontrollable impulse more than a decision—and ran at us with lips curled away from their teeth. I caught a glimpse of rabid eyes with starbursts of blood in the corners, normal human hands with nails untended until they were curled and yellow.

Though I’d cautioned my people not to hesitate, I hated it when I drew my knives. These people didn’t deserve this; Wilson had done it to them—with the best of intentions—but still, their suffering could be laid at his door. When the first lunged at me, I saw that he was Edmund’s age. He might’ve been a farmer before, a normal man who loved his family and hated parsnips.
Please, give me the strength to do what’s needed.

With a rush of sorrow, I took him down, and that kill set the tone for everyone else. I glanced around for Tegan, but she was executing the staff maneuvers Morrow had taught her with complete precision. We all accounted for one except for Zach; he froze while the rest of us defended. Afterward, he hunched and lost his breakfast.

“How
can
you?” he asked in a low whisper. “They were
people
.”

Tears filled Tegan’s eyes. “I know. But it was a mercy. They couldn’t ever be who they were again. If they were in their right minds, it wouldn’t be necessary.”

I checked all the bodies to make sure they were dead, taking care with their blood as Tegan had suggested. Thornton watched, then he etched what I’d learned was the sign of the cross. I’d seen Morgan do that as well; and he had explained it had spiritual significance when I asked. My family had religion, but they didn’t favor that gesture.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“Lying there, they look so normal, almost like us,” the older man answered.

“I know.”

It
was
eerie. This was what it must’ve been like long ago, before everyone changed; I glimpsed the Freak genesis in these poor lunatics, and it chilled me to the bone. With care, I closed all the eyes, so they weren’t staring at the sky with eternal hunger. At last, satisfied they were all dead, I straightened, though part of me couldn’t help a primitive fear that these corpses would rise and shamble after us. Apparently the others felt the same because they backed off, and didn’t turn until we moved more than fifty paces away.

I fell into step with Zach, keeping my tone low so the others couldn’t hear, though they might well guess what I was saying. “The next fight might be more challenging, and we can’t carry your weight. Don’t let me down.”

He nodded, looking ashamed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

I felt for him, this boy who had lost his whole family, and now had to learn to fight when that hadn’t been his role from the beginning, as it had mine. But in this world, people had to adapt, or they died. Cowardice would haunt him all his life, if he didn’t find the courage to raise a weapon and hold his ground. It wasn’t that I thought people who couldn’t fight were worthless; that judgment came from deep inside the kid. He needed to earn his own self-respect.

The next group ran at us from around a corner. There were no telltale sounds, but in a blink, there were twenty on top of us. I should’ve smelled them, but the miasma hung over the whole town; the stink was horrendous, and they were near starvation. Some had gnawed their own flesh—or maybe they’d done it to each other—but the bites were infected and livid, sour milk flesh imprinted with savage red teeth marks.

Our drills held up, though. The men fell into a circle as we had practiced, forcing the enemy to push through if they wanted to surround us. I expected Zach to falter again, but this time he brought his knives up and held the line. We were outnumbered, but these were creatures of madness and hunger, the way the old Freaks had been. They knew nothing of tactics or strategy, only of the need burning like fire in their blood. The fight became an intricate dance of death. When Tegan swung her staff to sweep the legs and knocked one down, Thornton finished it with an efficient blow from his hatchet.

I worked with Zach, keeping them off him while he discovered his confidence. He might not be a natural warrior but he was determined, offering a block and feint to draw the snapping teeth. That opened the throat, and I cut it, then followed with a kick to avoid the spraying blood. Some spattered on my pants, but it couldn’t be helped. Spence worked as he usually did with knife, gun, and boot. I didn’t count how many I killed; I just fought until they all lay dead.

“Injuries?” I asked. “Any bites?”

There was a heavy, fraught silence while everyone scrutinized their fellows.

“Me.” Danbury was one of the new men, recently recruited. He cradled his forearm, and as I stepped closer, I saw the purple bruise with a scarlet heart where teeth had broken the skin. The wound would heal, but I glimpsed raw fear in his eyes.

“You can’t become a Freak through bites,” I said, though it was a hollow reassurance. “Maybe this isn’t catching the same way.”

Tegan offered, “I told you to avoid the blood as a precaution. These people went mad after exposure to that potion Dr. Wilson created, not from biting each other.”

“You should shoot me,” Danbury said. “Just in case.”

I shook my head. “We’ll finish clearing the town, then I need to have words with Dr. Wilson. I’ll ask him if there’s any risk.”

Danbury curled his hand into a fist. “If I go wrong, promise me you won’t let me turn into that.”

I gazed down at the bodies. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.” The statement sounded tender when it was, in fact, a pledge to end his life.

“Let me clean and wrap it.” Tegan took the soldier’s arm. She put on thin leather gloves, then poured antiseptic into the bite to flush it. Afterward, she smeared some healing salve and bound it with a length of cloth. The soldiers watched her as if mesmerized; I didn’t know if it was the grace of her movements or the silent threat of what might lie beneath the bandage.

Spence holstered his gun. “This is no challenge at all. I’m surprised the townsfolk couldn’t handle them.”

Thornton added, “It helps that they’re stupid and weak.”

“The people here aren’t trained to fight,” Zach put in.

He was right; it made a difference. Most folks, when confronted by a nightmare, tended to run and hide. It was a rare soul that took up whatever weapon came to hand with no prior experience. But somebody else might be able to explain why most people fled and one in a hundred decided to do battle.

After that, we met only stragglers, one so weak he was on his knees when we encountered him. Spence murmured, “Poor sod,” and put a bullet in his head. The madman tipped over backward, and I swear at the moment of death, he was relieved to have it done—or maybe that was just what I wanted to see in his tormented features because otherwise this day would create a weight too heavy to carry.

“I’d like to speak with this Dr. Wilson, too.” Thornton smacked the haft of his hand ax against his palm, which I took to mean he wanted to lop off the scientist’s head.

I held up a hand, signaling quiet. After few seconds, I was certain. There were more nearby. How many, I couldn’t be sure. I wished Stalker had been able to provide a more accurate count. The men moved behind me, their fang-and-bone necklaces rattling. Down the street I found the source of the noise. This house had proven unable to withstand the onslaught, and the front door stood open like a gaping wound. A blood trail led inside.

I swallowed back my dread, whispering, “There won’t be room for all of us. I need four with me, six outside on guard.”

“I’m with you,” Thornton said.

Spence didn’t answer, but he stepped closer. Then Zach moved in … and Danbury. Those two wouldn’t have been my first choices, but it was better for squad morale if I didn’t play favorites. The house was dark with the windows shuttered, shadows heavy as the souls of the dead. I inhaled, tasting the air; it was sick and stale, tainted with decay. Then I heard movement deeper within, and all the hair on my nape stood up.

A few seconds later, the creature that shuffled into sight, dragging a severed arm, barely registered as human. Her skin was too tight, bloated from the feast we’d interrupted. Her eyes were bright but sunken in her swollen face and so smeared with blood that they were the only bright points in a ruddy mess. She lumbered toward us, and we scattered, giving Spence a clear shot. There was no point in letting her get close enough to bite. He leveled the gun and took the safe shot right in her chest, but it wasn’t enough. Despite that wound, she kept coming.

“Again,” Thornton snapped.

Spence fired another round, nailing her right between the eyes. She dropped like a stone.

I pushed out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “I doubt she left anyone alive, but we should make sure. Thornton, with me. The rest of you, watch the door.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was a moderate-size home. From what I could tell, it had originally been all one space, almost like a storage facility, but it had been repurposed as a house and someone had built rickety partitions. A lot about Winterville reminded me of down below. Unlike many settlements, this one looked like it didn’t belong; it was more than half made up of old salvage, used by people who didn’t fully understand what to do with it, and those foreign materials struck a strange note in the new world.

The whole house was awash in blood and feces, as if the madwoman who had broken inside had been a wild animal. She ate and excreted, and from what Thornton and I saw, that was
all.
In the sleeping area, I stumbled into the worst scene I’d ever encountered.

Is Appleton worse than this?

Thornton caught my shoulders as I rammed into him in an instinctive recoil. Chunks of meat and bone were everywhere, and the former residents were so chewed up that I couldn’t tell what parts belonged to which person. It was a slaughterhouse of a room, a scene that would haunt me forever. The sheds where they slaughtered the meat in Soldier’s Pond had more kindness. Then the woman, who was half devoured from the waist down, opened her eyes and whispered, “Kill me.”

“Let me,” he said.