A Wanted Woman Part 49

I retorted, "f.u.c.k you, you f.u.c.king f.u.c.k."

A precipice in front, wolves behind me. Swan Street, Roebuck Street, and Tudor Street a battle zone. Somewhere above the mom-and-pop businesses, up on the rooftops, somewhere on buildings made of brick and coral stone, up there was the only person on this planet I trusted.

If one of many dozens of bullets sent her way hadn't found her head.

The LKs fired on the Barbarians. The Barbarians fired on the LKs.

I stumbled into a shop that had been destroyed, its front now the opening to a pitch-black cave, and three guntas appeared, their silhouettes in the glow from the fires. Moved as fast as I could, adrenaline high. They followed my retreat, rushed behind me, but they had failed to pay attention to the shop I had run inside. We played hide-and-seek for a moment. I rose from behind the counter and gifted the first one with the knife I held, then staggered deeper inside the shop. I was in a hardware store. This was where hired guns shopped to buy blades and axes, large hammers, crowbars, and machetes.

Moments later, I emerged panting, holding b.l.o.o.d.y axes in both hands. Something that looked like rope was on my shoulder. I had left the second gunta on the floor in agony.

When I caught my wind, I turned to him and raised the ax up high.

I brought it down hard enough to make heads roll.

I stepped into the storm facing an a.s.sa.s.sin carrying an a.s.sault rifle.

I emerged facing Petrichor.

She had on all black, hair pulled back, a black-and-purple LIME bandana covered her mouth and nose. She was soaking wet, covered in debris, focused, but on edge, a wreck.

She lowered the business end of her weapon and said, "Goldilocks?"

"Hey, babes. No karaoke tonight, huh?"

She saw me, saw the condition I was in, battered and nude, and she looked infuriated and horrified. She repeated my name. I blinked a dozen times but said nothing.

Her lips moved, but it took me a moment to be able to hear her clearly. There were hissing noises, painful sounds. One glance and she knew. I limped and she knew.

I inhaled deeply, the humid night smelling like seawater, brine, p.i.s.s, and cake. As long as I didn't smell rotten eggs, that being the scent of propane, this would be my resting spot.

The storm had brought the ocean's moisture and dumped it on top of me.

Face dank, she said, "Muddasik. I was too late."

"You found me, that's all that matters."

"After you dropped the phone, I followed the destruction."

"You told me to get to Swan Street and Roebuck Street. Had car problems."

"I drove as fast and as hard as I could. Cars are flipped over and on fire from Upper Collymore Rock down to here. People were in the roads trying to get to QEH. Broken bones and burns. Dead bodies all over. Saw the turned-over Mini Cooper and their trucks. Saw the dead policemen. Came this way as fast as I could. LKs were all over. Took to the roof."` I touched my swollen face, spat blood, and shook my head. "I'm still alive."

"Your face."

"I still look better than you."

She saw what was being carried on my shoulder. "What else did they do?"

"Don't cry. Snipers don't cry."

"This is my anger overflowing, not tears."

"Serious. No meltdowns."

"All of them?"

We jumped when we heard a round of gunfire, stepped back inside the store. Soldiers, police officers, killers, or clergy on the next religious crusade, some group was marching this way. An ax would do me no good. Needed to upgrade. I dropped one of the axes, the bloodied one in my right hand, freed my gun hand. My hand hurt, nails broken, but it was still functioning. Petrichor changed clips and handed me a fully loaded weapon. She pulled her bandana back up above her nose, took to one side of the shop and I did my best to get to the other side.

From Swan Street someone called out, "Reaper."

The Barbarians had driven the LKs away, at least back down Swan Street, then doubled back for me. They were my enemy as well. Didn't answer. Petrichor prepared to unload her clip.

Then they raised their guns. If they started shooting, death would applaud.

He yelled over the wind and rain, "MX-401."

I yelled, "Who's calling out a defunct Barbarian handle on such a night like this one?"

"It's us, Reaper."

"You need directions to Novel Teas or you came to make more Goldilocks jokes?"

"Do you need help?"

"You come to finish me off?"

"Reaper, do you need a.s.sistance?"

"Last time asking, then this gets ugly. Why are you here?"

"Barbarians received intel that the LKs had landed."

"Cut to the chase. You don't have a dog in this fight. The company and I have parted ways. RCSI sent you here for what purpose?"

"The LKs found you before we did."

"I told them I used to be a Barbarian. Is that what you want to know? I told them that I was sent to Trinidad by the Barbarians, that RCSI sent me on the hit, so get your house in order."

"They got to you."

"No, RCSI got to me. Wish you f.u.c.kers had had my back from day one."

"We came to protect you."

"Bulls.h.i.+t. You came to protect the Barbarians' interest in the Barbarians and RCSI."

"We'll get you to safety. We'll sort this out, MX-401."

"I'm not MX-401. You heard my resignation, so stop playing games."

"Look, let me come in and talk with you."

I fired twice. He backed away.

I said, "Call RCSI."

"All comm is dead."

"Rastafarians? They're dead too?"

"Come out."

"I'm not coming out."

"You can't stay there. Island police or military will eventually come this way."

"f.u.c.k you. f.u.c.k all of you. f.u.c.k-s.h.i.+te."

"You okay? Reaper? What was that? You okay in there?"

"No, I'm not okay. Just threw up."

"What's going on?"

"I'm in pain. Leave me be."

"You sound like you're in need of medical attention. Let me check on you."

"Your a.s.shole steroid-eating buddy and the fire-starter, they stay where they are."

"Okay. They are standing guard. Just me."

Gla.s.s crunched underneath his boots. Dormeuil came inside the store, soaking wet. Never saw Petrichor in the shadows, her gun aimed, ready to take him out, wanting to take him out. He stopped four feet away, both hands in view, flashlight on my body until he saw my face, until he saw that I was nude, then he turned the light down, looked shocked, embarra.s.sed, stood with his head turned, a man who wouldn't violate a woman, and what he saw was my femininity.

His shoulders slumped and he said, "Jesus."

I stood tall, strong, like I was covered in armor. "Where are they?"

"The LKs broke ranks. They're backing off, retreating."

"They're regrouping. This isn't the end for them; this is only the start."

"Looks like you crawled across barbed wire."

"Be up-front. Be a man; be honorable; be honest. But most of all, just be up-front."

"You're bleeding."

"Most of it's their blood."

"We do have a common enemy at this point."

"We have nothing in common. I was clear."

"They are top status. You should be glad that we caught them off guard."

"Was I your bait?"

"No. Not at all."

"You made them retreat. They didn't know how many guns were behind them."

"We didn't know how many of them were in front of us. Too many of them to chase, not when they were cloaked and shooting. We need to cut them off before they exit the island."

"Still not safe. This storm will keep them trapped here for a few hours."

"The boys up top want to know, so I have to ask. You find out anything we can use?"

"They're almost as evil as the Barbarians."

"Where is their base?"

"We didn't sip tea and exchange addresses."

"How many combatants are left?"

"No idea. I just know that three are dead behind me."

"Three? In your condition, you took out three of them in here?"

"Behind me."

"d.a.m.n."

"s.h.i.+ne your light. Look at the pools of blood and draw your own conclusion."

"You're using a pole to stand up."

"An ax, not a pole. A bloodied ax."

"What's that on your shoulder?"

"What does it look like?"

"A spinal cord?"

"That one. I carved a hole in the back of his neck, took out his spine with my fingers."