Gods and Monsters (20 page)

“You should have bludgeoned me from behind,” she said stepping sideways to make him flinch.

“Why?” He contrasted her movement and they began to circle. This was going to be an epic fight. She couldn’t wait to find out who was going to win.

“Why what…specifically?”

“Why everything, Gypsy?” Ethan enunciated. “Or perhaps I should ask how? How can you kill one of your own? How can you destroy everything? How can you do this…to me?”

“My answer to all of the above is…why not?”

“I thought we were at least partners. We were never going to be lovers. We weren’t exactly friends, but we had each other’s back.”

“And now you have Cori’s back, and front.”

“What pisses you off more, Gypsy? That she loves me, or that she’s capable of love.”

Gypsy bit her lip until she tasted blood. “You think I’m not capable of love?”

“I think you’re capable of covetous, but not love.”

“Is there a difference?” She perked her brow in amusement, but he didn’t share in it.

“If you loved me, you would not make me kill you.”

“If
you
loved
me
, you would understand that I can’t do that.” She narrowed her eyes waiting for his response, which took some time.

“I don’t understand anything about you. Why have you been letting the prisoners out?”

“Oh, figured that out did you. Well, we had to something, didn’t we? I mean fuck this place is boring when it’s running efficiently.”

“Gypsy, please—”

“Don’t beg! Groveling is the most detestable form of negotiating. I’ve done plenty of begging, praying, and bartering in my life, and believe me, none of it works. This is ending tonight Ethan, and if you want things to go back to normal than you’re going to need this.” Gypsy tapped the drawstring bag hanging from her belt.

Ethan focused on the bag, no doubt thinking of all the ways that he could take it from her. “Why not just let her go back? Why not rewrite your own life, so you don’t have to be scarred by it?”

“I don’t want a new life Ethan. I’m pretty fucking fond of the one I got. You’re going to have to pry this from my corpse if you want it.” Gypsy could see the battle raging in Ethan’s eyes, but when he finally made up his mind, there was no turning back.

46

Cori grunted under Penelope’s paw wondering how she had ever managed to make it through her finale test with a male dragon. She pushed as hard as she could on the pads that were pressing down on her, but it was useless.

Penelope was happily asleep, but Cori wasn’t sure for how long. She was just impressed that the big beast was susceptible to the sleeping touch.

Cori pried her toes apart and squirmed from underneath the massive weight. When she was finally out she leaned against her foot to catch her breath before heading upstairs. There was a melee of guards going up and down the stair well. She heard screams several flights up, and decided that the second floor was a good place to start her search. 

Bruised and bloody she stepped out near the infirmary. She could see through the glass walls that the nurses were aiding several guards in the waiting area. By the looks of things they were treating bites, and severe ones at that. There were too damn many biters in this prison.

She ran toward the next section. Several steps from the door, she tripped and fell. She looked behind her and caught a glimpse of a cat sized creature scurrying away. She jumped up and took inventory of herself and surroundings. She appeared to be intact, and there was no sign of an ambush by tiny creatures, so she moved on to the next section.

47

Cori entered the section just as Ethan and Gypsy began to fight. It was difficult to say who ignited the fuse. They both just lunged at each other full force. It was easy to assume that a gun battle would go to the fastest draw, but despite being armed, neither drew their guns.

Gypsy ducked low, just missing Ethan’s fist. She slid on her knee high socks upper-cutting his crotch as she passed.

He kneed her in the chin. She grabbed his leg and pushed him, forcing him off balance.

She stood, but Ethan was already on top of her. Gypsy back flipped away from him. She landed on all fours in a runner’s crouch. She drove forward.

He used her momentum to throw her several yards away. She landed hard on her hip, which left her limping back to the fight.

Cori couldn’t help but be impressed by her vigor. There weren’t many men that would dare take Ethan on. A woman capable of not getting her face smashed in had more than luck on her side. Gypsy and Ethan had trained for this moment for years.

Gypsy drew her sword and slashed at Ethan’s chest. He jumped back, barely keeping his shirt intact. She chopped down toward his shoulder with no notable intent to stop at the last second.

Ethan twisted out of her way and punched the flat side of the sword. The metal blade snapped and the upper half clanged against the floor. Gypsy withdrew and Ethan advanced.

Ethan grabbed her by the shoulders and drew her back in preparation for a head butt.

“Ethan!” Cori yelled, but it was too late.

Gypsy pulled her gun and shot him in the stomach. For a moment, he just stood there with her. The unspoken rule regarding guns had been broken. As dire as the situation already was, Ethan must have assumed that Gypsy would still fight fair.   

Ethan stumbled back and Gypsy turned her gun on Cori. Before Cori could think electromagnetic deflection, she pulled the trigger. The gun snapped quietly, impotently.

Cori and Gypsy exchanged looks before the fire fight began on Cori’s end. Motivated by her conflicting emotions, she barraged her with fire and lightening. Gypsy couldn’t begin to out run it. Instead, she dove behind a steel walled cage.

Cori heard the smack of her cartridge being loaded. She rounded the corner with fire already ablaze, so she didn’t lose the upper hand. Gypsy punched her in the stomach from her stooped position.

Cori tumbled to the floor and Gypsy grabbed her hair yanking her back upright again. She shoved the barrel of her gun into her temple.

Cori gripped her wrists, trying to get control of her body as well as the situation. “Uh-uh-uh, no flame, no bolts, or I shoot.” She twisted them both to face Ethan. He was sprawled on the floor bleeding meritoriously, but he was still alive. “Ethan!” When he saw the situation, he started to plead with her. “Shut-up.” Gypsy coughed and pulled Cori’s head back to put the gun under her chin. “I want you to watch her—” Gypsy coughed again, and spat liquid from her mouth. “I want…you…” Gypsy struggled to breathe.

When Cori realized what was happening, she tightened her grip on Gypsy’s wrists and pried the gun away from her face. She focused all her thoughts on how much this woman disgusted her and how much she wanted her dead so she could go home.

Gypsy’s eyes widened when her exhales only resulted in convulsing up water. Cori wasn't the maniacal type, but she couldn’t help but smile at her rarely used power coming out to give Gypsy a proper send off.

She thought it would be hard to watch someone die, but when it was someone as fucked up as Gypsy Grace, she didn’t feel the least bit sorry ridding the world of her existence. Whatever she was or could have been didn’t matter now. Something had flipped her switch from good to evil long ago, and Cori wasn’t going to suffer for it.

Gypsy seemed to understand what was happening and just let go. She looked at Cori, examining the woman that had killed her. She was no doubt disappointed that she was beat out by Cori’s endless dumb luck.

Up close, Cori could see the determination in her eyes. She might have been dying, but damn if she was going to cry or show fear. It was strangely familiar. It reminded Cori of Nevia’s cold, dutiful, apathy, but with Gypsy it was hot, self-serving, antipathy.

They were strange attributes for…a nurse.

48

Cori’s mind rippled as the singular memory permeated. She pulled away from Gypsy, unable to finish her task, now that she remembered where and when she had met her.

“Grace!” Cori announced while Gypsy coughed up water. “Grace Jepson!” Gypsy was still grappling for air, but looked at her curiously when she said her real name. “You were one of the nurses at Memorial Sloan in New York. My mother, Emily, was a patient there…for a time.”

“A lot of people were in that cancer ward, why would I remember her?” Gypsy croaked.

“Because you watched her die.” Gypsy looked at her through hooded eyes. “You quit that same night. In this reality, she didn’t die though. You didn’t quit, you ended up in the wrong place just in time for my wish to be granted. Don’t you see, Gypsy, your whole life changed because of me, but I can change it back. You don’t have to be this damaged person.”

“Why is everyone trying to change me? I’m not gay? I’m not Catholic? I’m just a bitch. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“I can take away the pain!”

“The pain is all I have!!” Gypsy stood wielding her gun, but not quite aiming it yet. “I don’t remember anything before the pain. That life is gone. This place is all I have of good tangible memories, and you want to take it away!”

Cori took a step back. Her hands pulsed with electricity, not entirely by choice. “I want to help you, so you can have your whole life.”

“You’re a hypocrite. You don’t want to give this place up either.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“I belong here, you don’t. I hate to play the first come, first serve card, but this is an aberration. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Something you should know about me. I don’t follow the rules.” Gypsy raised the gun and fired.   

49

It wasn’t obvious to Cori that she had been shot. At least not right away. The searing pain was a good indication, but she couldn’t actually differentiate where the pain was coming from. She assumed that was a good sign, but the longer she laid there staring at the ceiling struggling to find oxygen, the more she knew it wasn’t.

Gypsy eventually came into view above her. Her pistol sagged by her side still wafting smoke. Cori waited for her to lift the barrel to her lips and blow it off, but she didn’t. She just stared down at her with a vacant expression, radiating indifference.

Cori opened her mouth to say something scolding and derisive, but blood spilled from her mouth instead of words. She touched her throat and found it wet. She confirmed it was blood, despite that being an obvious conclusion. She wasn’t gushing, but she presumed that most of it was dripping back into her lungs—thus her difficulty breathing.

There is a moment between new enemies, when quick assessments are made. For robust opponents it is: Who is stronger? For smart opponents it is: Who is keener? In this particular case there was no assessment to be made. Gypsy had already won and they both knew it. 

Cori continued to gape at her, waiting for her to bestow a final witticism from her voluminous pink lips. Instead, she straddled her, sitting on her stomach—as if breathing wasn’t hard enough. Cori reflexively coughed, but she forced herself to stop, since it was only going to escalate her suffering.

Cori grabbed Gypsy’s legs and tried to push her off, to get some relief, but she didn’t have the strength. Gypsy’s legs frosted where she touched them, but it wasn’t enough to hurt her. Her unnatural defenses were wavering. Either because she was weak or focused too much on her pain.

She started to cough abruptly and for some reason still felt compelled to twist to one side so she didn’t get blood on Gypsy. The knife she had taken from Belus’s chest pressed into her back. She reached for it.

With no hope of survival, it was only revenge that prompted her to pull it from her waistband and thrust it into Gypsy. The frosted blade plunged into her chest not far from where she had taken it from Belus’s.

Gypsy stared down at the foreign object. She was confused by its sudden appearance and no doubt surprised by the quick turn of the table. She huffed a stuttered laugh that sounded more like weeping, but Cori knew better than to mistake it for real sentiment. Gypsy’s eyes faded and she slumped over.

50

“Cori!” Ethan smacked her face, but she barely felt it. She opened her eyes and saw Ethan overtop her. For a moment, she thought it was over and she was back where she belonged, but the pain in her neck, and the blood spilling from Ethan’s abdomen told her otherwise. “I’ve got to get you to the infirmary.”

He started to lift her, but he groaned and released her. Cori coughed struggling to filter air through the torrent of blood draining into her lungs. She didn’t have much time, and judging by the lack of color in Ethan’s face, neither did he.

She reached for the bag on Gypsy’s belt. It didn’t readily break away, but Ethan leaned over and tugged it. He winced but it separated. He brought it to her. “What if it doesn’t work?”

She touched his cheek and attempted to tell him to trust her, but it was barely intelligible. She drew the lamp out of the bag and held it by the spout and handle. “Ge-ee,” she coughed.