Enclave (28 page)

My hands shook. I closed my eyes for a long moment and dropped my head back against the rock-and-dirt wall behind me.

“You did your best for her,” Fade said softly. “That’s all we can do.”

Stalker’s expression said he’d just leave her. He wouldn’t have cared much about the brat, either. He embodied the Hunter tenet about strength and survival. Sometimes I admired that about him. Not right now. Tegan was my friend, even if she’d come between Fade and me. It wasn’t her fault he found her softness more appealing.

“I need someone to do me now,” I said, lifting my shirt.

Fade’s breath came in a hiss when he saw what I’d been hiding. I couldn’t actually see where the claws raked me, but by their expressions, it looked ugly. I glanced between the two, waiting to see who would reach for my dagger. It had to be sealed. I ran the same risks as Tegan: infection and fever. Freak claws weren’t clean.

Stalker said, “I will,” and plunged the knife in the fire.

He copied what I had done with our precious water and then applied the ointment. On my raw torn flesh, it burned like nothing ever had before, like fire before the white-hot knife. In a way it prepared me for what came after. I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth, and said, “Do it. Don’t give me any warning.”

He didn’t. The dagger seared me, felt like it cut nearly to the bone, so far past my pain threshold that I bit my lip until it bled. I choked my screams, clinging fiercely to my Huntress mettle.
Don’t let them see you weak,
Silk ordered me.
I taught you better than that. You were my best, Deuce. Don’t you ever forget that.

Now I knew I was dreaming. Silk never said anything like that to me. She didn’t praise; she gave cuffs upside the head, orders and backhanded compliments, like,
You might be decent, if you weren’t so stupid.

When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself somewhere else. The fire was gone. Fade was gone. No Stalker, no Tegan. Everything was black and white, like one of the pictures I’d seen in the ancient, yellow papers at the library.

And Silk stood there, waiting.

“You’re not dead,” she said.

She’d always been good at reading my expressions. I half smiled because it was good to see her, even if it meant my mind had finally snapped. She looked the same: small, imperious, and confident.

“But
I
am,” she went on.

The loss hit me hard. Could it be true? Was the entire enclave gone? If so, I was alone as I never had been. I thought of Thimble, Stone, and Girl26. I remembered Twist and ached to know his ending. I wanted to remember them all—each lost face, every crooked smile and funny gesture.

“Are the Burrowers gone too?” I whispered.

“I don’t know. But you’re the last of us, Deuce. Only you can tell our story.”

“There’s Fade.”

She shook her head. “He was never one of us. He’s a hybrid thing, and still doesn’t like the fit of his own skin, despite my training.”

“He just needs to find his place.”

Silk ignored that, her face quiet and grave. “I came to say good-bye, and to tell you to keep the fire burning.”

“What does that mean?”

I heard Silk again, whispering,
Keep the fire burning.
I opened my eyes, reaching for her.
So much to ask.
I grabbed ahold of Fade instead. For a minute, the two realities blurred, the black and white and the too-bright day. Then the dream went away, leaving me with that aching echo.

I’m the last Huntress.

“The enclave is gone,” I said shakily.

“You passed out for a bit,” Stalker said, kneeling beside me. “But I think you’ll be all right. You’re a tough one, dove.”

“Get
away
from her,” Fade snarled. “And
stop
calling her that.”

I could feel the tension in his body. He held me in his arms, as if he’d been rocking me. I must’ve scared him when I passed out; such weakness was humiliating.

Stalker didn’t back off. His scars pulled to the side as his mouth curled. “Deuce can make up her own mind.”

Were they going to fight
now
? I felt far too sick at my stomach to deal with this. I shoved away from Fade; the shift sent a lance of fierce fiery heat through my belly. Concern got the better of both of them; they put aside the quarrel at least.

I decided not to tell either of them I had seen Silk. They probably wouldn’t believe me anyway.

“How’s Tegan?” I demanded.

“You weren’t out long. No change,” Fade reassured me.

A relieved sigh slipped out. Gradually, I eased back against the packed dirt. My stomach burned with a steady heat, but I could bear it. I had to.

“Get more wood for the fire?” I asked Stalker. “We’re going to need it.”

I didn’t explain that request either. Fade pushed to his feet. “I’ll go see about getting a couple of birds for dinner.”

He was wicked quick with a rock. Often he could stun one with a throw and then snap its neck while it lay helpless. After the long day, I had no taste for food—I only wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t leave Tegan unguarded. Maybe I wouldn’t be much protection in my condition, but she was still unconscious.

Before they left, I made sure my knives sat within easy reach. I wasn’t sure I could get up if my life depended on it, but cutting the muscle behind the knee would do a lot of damage and bring the attacker down to my level. I watched the approach through the smoky filter over my eyes; it gave the world a peculiar green haze.

By the time Stalker returned, I felt light-headed. He bent to stoke the fire, and I grabbed his forearms in both hands. “Don’t let that go out. Promise me.”

“I’ll watch it.”

“No,
promise
me you’ll keep it burning.”

From his expression, he thought the wound had driven me a little crazy. But he said, “I swear. I’ll go back for more wood as often as I have to.”

That was all I needed. Darkness swept me away, deep as a night-kissed river.

When I woke, night had fallen. Tegan thrashed in a feverish sleep, and I felt none too healthy myself. The smell of roasting meat filled the air. That was welcome.

“Feeling better?” Fade asked. “Here.”

He passed me the water bottle, and I could see how little we had left. With the rise of the moon and stars, the air cooled as well. The fire banished some of the chill. I drank a little, taking care with it. There was no telling how far we’d come, or where we would find the next clean water.

“Hungry?” Stalker sliced some meat for me and held it on the tip of his blade until it cooled.

I ate it in two bites and wished for more, but I could see there wasn’t much. “Has Tegan woken?”

Fade shook his head. “Not once. She keeps asking for her mom.”

“We should get moving,” Stalker said, starting to kick dust in the fire to damp it.

“No!” I half pushed to my feet and staggered, astounded at how much I still hurt. I clutched my side, nausea rising. I hoped I wouldn’t lose my food. I needed it.

“You want to stay here through the night?” Fade asked.

Not just through the night. I couldn’t explain my irrational certainty, but Silk had been telling me something, something important, with the fire. We had to stay here and tend it. I just knew if we went roaming off, we were going to die, and nobody would
ever
hear our story, none of it.

But I couldn’t put my conviction in any terms that made sense, so I just said, “Yes. Maybe she’ll be stronger by morning.”

But she wasn’t.

At dawn, Tegan burned hot as the fire I insisted on tending. I bathed her with the last of the water and tried to get her to drink some. She thrashed and moaned and cried. Tears ran down her cheeks until she didn’t have any left.

Glancing up, I saw the suggestion in Stalker’s eyes.
We can spare her this. End it now and move on, before we’re too weak.
If I had been going solely on my Huntress instincts, I would’ve agreed with him. But I had more, now.

“Give her until nightfall,” I said softly. “The two of you go see if you can find any water. Get more wood.”

Stalker raised his brows. “You’re obsessed with that fire.”

Yes, I was.
Keep the fire burning,
Silk had said. It was a promise we would survive, as long as we did. I wouldn’t fail her.

“I’ll go hunting again,” Fade said. “I’ll do better today.”

“Thanks.” Food wasn’t my primary concern today, though. Water and wood, those we couldn’t live without.

Once they had gone, I whispered to her. Little things the Breeders had said to me over the years, and then I read to her from the ABC book. “A is for Apple…”

Sometimes she cried. Sometimes she smiled. Once, she opened her eyes and tried to sit up but she didn’t see me. I pushed her sweaty hair off her forehead and knew the most awful fear—that I’d lose her, before I got to tell her how much she mattered.

“Don’t die,” I said. “You’re my only friend.”

She was different; she didn’t
demand
anything. There were no confusing layers with Tegan. I could talk to her—and that was all I meant by it, though it might’ve hurt Fade if he heard me. I didn’t care.

Maybe now I knew how Fade had felt about Banner and Pearl. I’d never lost friends like this. I hadn’t seen their bodies. I suspected Thimble and Stone were gone, like the rest of the enclave. He was right; it was different, and I understood him more. I wished I could go back and offer all the little kindnesses and comforts I’d withheld without realizing he needed them.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you.”

“I don’t like it when you leave, Mama.” She clutched my arms with weak fingers, but she saw someone else imposed upon my skin. I imagined her mother, sneaking out for food, and leaving Tegan by herself. In the enclave, I’d never been alone.

There were different kinds of strength. I knew that now. It didn’t always come from a knife or a willingness to fight. Sometimes it came from endurance, where the well ran deep and quiet. Sometimes it came from compassion and forgiveness.

The guys were gone a long time, and Tegan finally quieted, but it wasn’t a good rest, like when a fever breaks. It was more that she had exhausted all her energy fighting, and now she would just die.

This time, Fade came back first, bearing several birds and a rabbit. He also had water for us to boil in the pot we’d taken from our winter home. “I found a pond. It was pretty shallow and muddy, but…” He shrugged.

At this point, we couldn’t be picky. Heat would kill most of the bad things in it, but it took time to cool. By that point, Tegan’s lips were dry and cracked. I tipped it down her throat and she swallowed, but I had no hope it was a long-term cure. When I checked her wound, it had started to swell.
Oh, no.

Fade’s face went grim, but he set to work on the birds and rabbits, skinning and deboning far enough away that the entrails wouldn’t attract scavengers while we slept.

Later, Stalker returned with an armload of wood. He must’ve ranged farther this time.

He confirmed my guess by saying, “I did a patrol around the area. Seems quiet enough.”

“Good to hear.” We didn’t need more Freaks.

He sat down beside me and touched his fingers to my forehead. “You’re burning up, dove. Have you had anything to drink today?”

“I was saving it for Tegan.”

“Why?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. “She’s not getting better. You might.”

Fade passed me a bottle, now refilled with the lukewarm water. I drank some slowly, conscious of how sore my throat had become. I did feel warm, now that Stalker had pointed it out. I’d assumed it was the proximity to the fire.

“Because she’s one of us,” I said finally. “And I’m tired of giving up.”

Stalker shook his head. “Accepting the inevitable is not like giving up.”

Fade gave a bitter half-smile. “Yes, it is.”

“Well, she can’t walk, and I’m not carrying her this time.”

“I will.” Fade started cooking.

I knew Stalker would want to leave as soon as we’d eaten. With every part of me, I knew we couldn’t. We had to stay
here
. We had to keep the fire burning. Maybe it was the fever talking. Maybe I hadn’t seen Silk at all.

But I couldn’t believe that, or I’d have to accept Tegan was dying, nothing we could do would save her, and there was nothing better out there. Just more Freaks and empty land and silent despair. Before I realized it, tears streamed down my cheeks.

“The whole
world
is like Whitewall’s razors,” I burst out. “It cuts us, and we bleed but there’s no purpose to it.”

My fists clenched at my sides as I tried to get myself in hand.
A Huntress wouldn’t act like this,
I told myself. But this time, it was only my voice in my head, not Silk’s and I felt she had finally left me—that her good-bye had been real. And I wasn’t a Huntress, not truly. I had been exiled, even before my whole tribe died. As I’d thought, so long ago, I was only a girl with six scars.