Outpost (Razorland 2) - Page 7

That was what they called brats in Salvation. It was also the name for the offspring of the animals they kept for milk. That seemed more offensive to me than the word “brat,” but evidently not according to Topside sensibilities. They also didn’t like it when I called people Breeders, even when they had young.

I picked up Longshot’s cue. “I heard you need a team.”

Two bushy white brows went up; he played his role well, as if I hadn’t forewarned him two weeks ago. “Is that right?”

“They’ll be planting soon,” Stalker said. “And you’ll need people to protect the growers.”

“And then later, the fields,” I added.

Longshot tilted his head. “I’m aware of that.”

“We want to be on your team,” Fade clarified.

“All three of you?” The older man feigned skepticism as his gaze brushed over me in my long, full skirt. “Can you shoot?”

I shook my head. “But there are no walls out in the fields anyway. You’d have an advantage if you chose people experienced in hand-to-hand.”

“And that’s you?” His tone grew quietly amused.

That might’ve bothered me if I hadn’t grasped his intent. Longshot couldn’t afford to seem too willing at first, and I knew how I looked in this dress and Momma Oaks’s braids, my Huntress scars hidden from the world. My gaze swept the barracks, where a number of guards watched us with equal measures of hilarity and impatience. Talk would only take things so far.

At random, I pointed at a young man who looked capable. “I’ll prove it to you. Let’s step outside. If I can’t bring him down, I’ll forget this whole idea.”

There was a reason I was fighting for the honor of our group. The guards saw me as the weak link. While they’d consider letting Stalker and Fade join the summer patrol, I had to establish my skill before they’d take me seriously.

The guard I’d singled out gave an incredulous laugh. “I don’t wrestle girls.”

“That’s not what I heard, Frank!” someone cracked.

A hot flush flared in his cheeks. “Shut up, Dooley.”

Longshot shoved back from the card table. “I don’t see what it’d hurt, as long as you promise to abide by the terms.”

There was no way this guard had trained as I had or earned the same combat experience. Down below, Hunters blindfolded us and taught us to fight according to what we could sense with our ears and noses. Eventually I got good enough to detect an incoming strike by the movements around me. So I could beat him easily.

Keen to show them what I could do, I turned my back to Stalker, who knew what I wanted. He unfastened the top two buttons on my dress, which I hauled over my head. The men in the barracks gasped, except for Stalker and Fade, who both realized I was always ready to fight beneath the feminine paraphernalia that Momma Oaks foisted on me. With knives strapped to my thighs, I was fully clothed in pants and the tunic I’d carried from down below.

“Do all girls—” a guard whispered, and another shushed him before he could finish the question.

“Outside then,” Longshot said. “No bloodshed, fair play, and the first fall heralds the winner.”

Those terms were acceptable. I felt sorry for the young man I was about to humiliate, but from his expression, he thought this was a big joke. Other guards snickered, whispering about my chances, and he raised both arms in anticipation of his easy victory, spinning in a cocky circle. So maybe he had it coming.

He grinned, showing a gap in his teeth. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”

Behind me, Stalker laughed softly, but I didn’t glance at him to share a conspiratorial look. Instead, I focused on the one I had to beat to convince the others I deserved a place on Longshot’s team. The guard advanced in no particular style, expecting I’d prove easy to defeat. His grab was clumsy, and I ducked and swung around behind him. When I planted my foot on his backside, the other guards hooted, and he spun, embarrassment blossoming on his face in scarlet patches.

“Don’t play with him, Deuce.” The reminder came from Fade.

In my head, Silk berated me. Don’t waste energy. Take him down.

Even if the man had laughed at me, he didn’t deserve to be mocked. So the next time he came at me, I swept his legs and pounced on top of him, my hands on his throat. If I’d been carrying my daggers, he would already be dead.

Silence fell, broken only by his quick, shocked breathing. And then the young man under me gasped, “I will be damned.”

They had little close-combat training from what I could tell by that match. Or maybe he just hadn’t thought me worthy of his best effort. Either way, I glanced up at Longshot to make sure he accepted the outcome. The older man nodded, so I sprang away, spinning in a slow circle to see if the guard had any angry friends ready to defend his honor. But the others seemed shocked more than offended.

To show I harbored no hard feelings, I offered my hand. Frank accepted it after a moment’s hesitation and I pulled him up. He shook his head, eyeing me with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.

“It won’t be a popular decision,” Longshot said then, “but it would be criminal foolishness to waste talents such as those. If your friends fight half as well, I’d be honored to have all of you on my team.”

Pride blazed in me. This was the first time I’d felt I could be happy in Salvation, like they might permit me to use my true skills. “How many members?”

“Eight. One patrol leader, which would be me, one recon specialist, and the rest for defense.”

“I’m good at recon,” Stalker said.

It was no joke. He’d trailed us through the ruins, and despite my sharp senses and Fade’s intuition, we hadn’t noticed a thing. I nodded my endorsement.

Longshot addressed all of us. “You’ll receive a small stipend in exchange for your work this summer.”

I guessed he meant we’d be earning our own tokens, which could be spent at stores in town. That would be nice, as I hated being completely dependent on my foster parents for anything I wanted. They were generous enough, but that wasn’t the point; I needed to be independent. Only a brat took constant handouts without protest.

“I’d count it a favor if you’d recruit me too,” the man beside me said.

Longshot studied him. “Why’s that, Frank? I won’t have you messing with this girl and making her life miserable. She took you fair and square.”

“It’s not that, sir.” He paused, then lowered his voice. “I think I might be able to learn from her.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. I guess I just need to find three more souls—” He hadn’t even finished the sentence when three more guards stepped forward, volunteering to join the team. They all seemed driven by appreciation too, not judgment or anger.

Maybe it was all right to be different, at least among the guards. Perhaps my prowess mattered more than my sex. If they didn’t gossip like the women, I’d like Salvation a whole lot better.

“When do we start?” I asked.

“Planting is a week from tomorrow,” Longshot answered. “We go out then.”

To protect the growers. That wasn’t so dissimilar from the way things had worked down below. Part of me couldn’t believe it. After all this time, I had a proper place in the world and important work to do. In time they might even teach me to shoot and give me a shift on the walls, like the other guards. Like Longshot, that could keep me occupied between trade runs.

If you’re ever lucky enough to be chosen as his apprentice. You have to finish school first. That reminder cast a shadow over my excitement.

Nonetheless, I said, “Thank you, sir. I’ll be ready.”

The older man nodded. “Meet at the barracks next Saturday, before dawn. If Momma Oaks gives you any trouble, tell her to talk with me.”

Warmth crackled through me. I wanted to hug him, though he wouldn’t care for that any more than Silk would. So I contented myself with a sharp nod, and then I hurried into the barracks to retrieve my stupid dress. Muttering, I pulled it back over my head, and Fade did up my buttons. I could tell it was him by the warmth that prickled over my back. Down below, he touched me first for comfort, and then, like he drew solace back from my skin. Topside, he went from an arm around my shoulders to tasting sweetness on my lips. I was attuned to Fade’s hands as I never had been with anyone else.

“I have to get back to the smithy.” Stalker brushed my cheek with his fingertips in passing as he went, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Fade.

His mouth tightened at that touch, and his jaw clenched. The two events connected in my head; maybe his distance had nothing to do with how he felt about Tegan, and everything to do with Stalker and me. The separation had started well before our arrival here. The more Stalker showed preference for my company, the more Fade withdrew.

I’d thought Fade was still mad at me because the Freaks killed his old friend Pearl—and we couldn’t save her. Stalker had been the enemy in the ruins … and after we escaped from his gang with Tegan, he hunted us, using Pearl as bait. The Freaks attacked before we fought a second time, however, and turned Stalker into an unlikely ally. Fade blamed Stalker for Pearl’s death, and I’d suspected he didn’t like me training with the other boy for that same reason. Now I wondered if his aloofness might be more personal.

I’d never know if I didn’t ask.

“Do you have to go right back?” It was the first time in weeks that I’d tried to breach his reserve, and anxiety sunk a fist into my innards, as I wondered if he’d reject me—and how much it would hurt if he did.

He weighed the question, and then murmured with a pained twist of his lips, “My work will keep for a while.”

Reunion

Pleasure streamed through me. I hadn’t expected that response, so I had no follow-up. “What would you like to do?”

Fade lifted his shoulders in a graceful shrug. The rules here were different from the enclave’s. We slept apart, but during daylight hours, boys and girls fraternized without censure; there was no insistence on chaperones, for instance. Down below, I couldn’t spend time with Stone unless Thimble kept us company, and I was never allowed to bring a boy into my living space without someone else present. Walking was more than we’d done together lately, so I resolved to enjoy it.

“Momma Oaks has a swing out back,” he suggested, surprising me.

I knew the one he meant. It was sedate, a long wood seat on a platform, not so much for children as for those who had to watch over them. I’d never used it, myself, but it might make a comfortable place to talk on a sunny afternoon.

“Let’s go.” I didn’t know what we’d say, once we settled, but I was in no hurry to disturb the tentative peace.

Yet we had to clear the air. Even if he could keep this up, I didn’t want to.

Fade followed quietly as I wove through town, back toward the Oakses’ place. To my relief, my foster mother wasn’t outside hanging wash or puttering in the yard. That left us a clear path around the side of the house. The swing rested beneath the same spreading tree that permitted me to sneak out in the middle of the night. With a fond glance at that liberating branch, I took a seat, and Fade did the same. He sat closer than I expected, his thigh a whisper away from mine. It reminded me of how we’d huddled together down below after we learned what became of Nassau, and it took all my self-control not to curl into him as I had then. He was all that remained of my old world.

Tags: Ann Aguirre Razorland
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