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HUGH, ALONG WITH JACKSON, Tim and a few others, had spent yesterday and most of the evening going through all the information that Townsend had sent by Birdie about the shelters. Everyone was once again gathered and he’d just gotten done telling each of them what team they were on and which shelter they were assigned.
“What about the Producers and Grunts?” Trinity’s eyes gleamed with challenge.
He didn’t want to have this fight in front of everyone, but it looked like they would. He turned toward her, meeting her gaze. It was a valid question and although he’d wanted to avoid it, he was prepared. “There aren’t that many Grunts and they all have homes. Isn’t that right?”
The small group of Grunts talked amongst themselves and then Cack nodded.
“They’re welcome to join us if they wish, but most are happy where they are.”
Cack made a noise that was definitely in disagreement.
He should’ve shut up while he was ahead.
Cack made motions and grunts. Trinity seemed to understand some of what he was saying which was just great because she’d only understand what made her argument stronger.
“I think he’s saying that they aren’t all treated well but they’re spread out at different homes. It’d be impossible to reach them all in a night.”
Cack nodded and grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face him as he motioned and grunted more.
“He’d like your promise that once this is done, you’ll send teams to find the Grunts and offer them freedom.”
He wouldn’t make false promises. “Things are going to get bad after this. Jason will come for us. I think we should wait. The Grunts may not be happy where they are, but they are safe, safer than the forest will be for them.”
Cack started to argue.
He couldn’t afford any dissent. The groups were barely together as it was. “We can send a small team, led by you and your wife.” This would get Cack’s very pregnant wife out of danger. He didn’t want to lose anyone, but he would. It was war. However, he could minimize the likelihood of losing a baby. “You can go and talk to the other Grunts. Tell them what it’s like in the forest. You can help them determine if they want to leave now, or if they’d rather leave later when things are more settled.”
Cack talked with the other Grunts. He turned and nodded, smiling his big, toothy smile.
“Good. We’re in agreement.” He wanted to stop now, but the Producers were all staring at him, their large, brown eyes hurt and confused. They’d been treated badly enough by Almightys. He couldn’t give them any doubt as to his intentions and their worth in his army. “Now, let’s discuss what we can do for the Producers.”
“No discussion,” said Trinity. “We free them like we’re freeing the Servants and Guards.” Her hands were on her hips, claws peeking from her fingertips.
He sighed. “You’re not going to like this, but hear me out. We can’t free all them...”
The Producers began to grumble.
“Yet.” That stopped them. “The camps are too far apart. It’d take days to get to all of them and we don’t have the time. As it is, it’s going to take us two days to get everyone in place. That means two Guards will die today and two more tomorrow.”
“Producers die every day.” Her golden eyes were furious as she scanned the crowd and stopped on him. “They die for your food. How many have to die before they’re as important to you as the Guards?”
“They are as important. I swear.” She had a point. He had to scramble or he’d lose ground. “And we will free them, but not this mission.”
The Producers began to grumble more.
“Listen. We can send groups to the nearby camps. Free those who want to be freed.” Trinity flinched and that was his opening. “From what I’ve heard and seen by the small number of Producers here and the large number still at your home”—he looked directly at her—“many refuse to believe that they’re destined for food. They’re happy and safe.” He held up his hand to stop the complaints. “They’re safer than they’d be in the forest.” He turned to Travis. “How many died after you freed them from the Finishing Camp?”
“Too many.” Travis looked down, some of his anger vanishing.
“I promise that we’ll free them but now is not the time. By this action, we’re starting this war in earnest. Trust me when I say that the Producers, as a whole, are safer where they are.”
“Easy for you to say.” Trinity’s voice bristled with anger. “You’ve never been anything’s dinner.”
“And neither have you. You’re alive.” He waved at the forest. “Any one of us could be the dinner of a River-Man or a Cold Creeper or Araldo only knows what else lurks in these woods.”
“It’s not the same.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m taking a group to the Remore Producer Camp.”
She wasn’t asking and he couldn’t allow that, not in front of everyone. “No. You’ll stay here and help pack up camp.” By look on everyone’s face, he’d just blundered. She was the most capable in the forest besides Gaar and this group wouldn’t follow a fool. He had to explain. “They want you as much as they want me.”
“I doubt that,” she said.
“You were attacked by five House Servants, not me. Someone wants you.”
“We don’t know for sure that they were after me,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction.
“It’d be better if you stayed at camp.” The thought of her in danger made his gut twist. He had to convince her. “We’re leaving all our young, old and sick here. We need someone who can protect them.”
There were murmurs in the group. His argument made sense.
“I’m not staying behind.” She looked at Jackson. “He’s protection enough.”
He’d forgotten that Jackson had agreed to pack up camp and look after those who were too frail to help with the mission. If he didn’t counter her argument, he’d lose, but he couldn’t come up with a good reason to leave her behind except the truth—that he’d do anything to keep her safe.
“Plus, many of the others who are staying may be old but they’ve been surviving in the forest for years. They can protect themselves from the forest predators,” she continued.
That group grumbled in agreement. No one wanted to be a burden. In their lives being old and weak equaled death.
Her eyes met his in triumph. “And don’t lie and say that you expect an Almighty attack. They won’t do anything right now. They’re waiting for you.”
She was right and everyone knew it. He was backed into a corner. He wanted to strangle her or tie her up in his tent until this entire mess was over, but unfortunately, he couldn’t do either. He ran his hand through his hair. “Fine, but not the Remore camps.” Jethro was home and may visit the family business. He couldn’t risk her seeing him. She was infatuated with the lad and Jethro was too friendly with Conguise. “We don’t have enough people to send to all the encampments and Producers aren’t being killed at the Remore camps.”
“But for how long?” asked Travis, his anger returning.
“I don’t know, but I do know that living in their home where no one is being sent to the Warehouse District is safer than the forest.” He glanced at the other Producers. “How many of you come from other, nearby camps?”
A little over a third of the group raised their hands.
“Their loved ones are still being slaughtered.” His eyes met Trinity’s. She wasn’t happy but now she was in the corner. “We need to go to those camps first. I promise that as soon as we get back—if the Almightys aren’t on our trail—we’ll send teams to all the camps. I give you my word.” He’d make sure that Trinity wasn’t in the group that went to the Remore camp. His stomach twisted at the thought of her with Jethro. She was too trusting and from everything he’d heard the boy was no longer trustworthy.
There were a few mumbles about the value of the word of an Almighty but they were quickly hushed.
Trinity’s gold eyes captured his. “Don’t worry. If something else comes up, I’ll go to every Producer Camp myself.”
He really was going to strangle her one day.