Rebel (12 page)

But no. She wouldn't allow it. She was almost upon him. Her muscles tensed. She knew exactly how she was going to strike: a flying sidekick to the back that would send him flipping over the bench.

Her legs pumped to a fever pitch--then lifted from the ground, slowly and gracefully, like the retraction of a plane's landing gear after takeoff. For a wondrous instant she was airborne. She thrust out her right leg, straightening so that the side of her foot would connect....

Now.

"AAAH!"

Mary heard Skizz's bloodcurdling scream at the exact same moment she realized he was no longer standing behind her; he was flying
over
her.

She threw her hands over her head and cringed, watching in terror as he tumbled through the air and landed flat on his back. The gun clattered away from him into the shadows.

And then she saw Gaia--gracefully somersaulting across the pavement.

Warmth surged through Mary's body. She should have known Gaia would come to her rescue. Gaia would teach Skizz about trying to collect on a debt from a recovering addict.
It was ass-kicking time.
And not a moment too soon.

GAIA CROUCHED OVER THE DRUG DEALER'S
body in the most basic kung fu stance-- legs bent, arms up, right hand poised above the left. Her breathing was slow and even. The electric fizz tingled in her veins the way it always did before combat, but there was something different tonight.

She was oddly calm.

Her rage hadn't subsided. Yet it gave her an edge. Almost as if she were watching the events unfold from a distance ... watching as this
fat, middle-aged piece of shit
staggered to his feet. How could she have been so stupid? She'd forgotten the rules of combat she'd had pounded into her head since she could remember.
Always
be ready.
Always
be alert. Instead she'd been reckless and self-indulgent, using her skills for petty pranks and leading her friend into a deadly trap.

All those years of her father's painstaking training were going to waste.

All those afternoons spent in their backyard--repeating kick after kick, block after block.... She was supposed to be disciplined. A
machine.
She'd allowed her dear father's education to slip away.
She'd lost the very thing that had turned her into a monster.
Yes. There was no denying it. She'd become sloppy in her teenage years.

Well, not tonight. Her heart pounded. Oh, no. It was time to make Daddy proud again.

She smiled at the drug dealer.

He straightened, wincing--clutching his back. Suddenly he froze. His eyes narrowed.
"You,"
he spat. "You're that bitch."

"That's right," Gaia murmured. "I'm that bitch."

He lunged forward, swinging with his right hand.

Gaia almost laughed. He'd telegraphed that punch

so blatantly that she didn't even need to block it. She simply ducked out of the way, sidestepping him. The force of his own effort sent him staggering across the pavement.

He whirled around. His eyes smoldered.

He was breathing heavily, filling the air with white vapor. "You just better pray you don't get hurt," he hissed. "You don't know who you're messin' with."

I think I do, Gaia thought. But she kept silent. Talking during a fight was a distraction. Besides, silence instilled fear in an opponent. Not that she needed any advantages over him. He was scared enough. With good reason.
He had no idea what was coming.

"Careful, Gaia," Mary murmured from the bench. "There's a gun on the ground."

The drug dealer grinned.

Oh, please. Did he really think Gaia was that stupid? Obviously he didn't know where the gun was. Otherwise he'd be looking at it.

Again he jumped forward and threw his right fist at her face.

How original,
Gaia thought. There was no need to block
this
punch, either--but she wasn't interested in toying with him any longer. She shifted to the left and grabbed his wrist in midair, simultaneously kicking his right shin. It was classic kung fu. One of her patent moves. The force of his own punch in combination
with the kick sent him flying off balance. But she didn't let go of his hand. Instead she twisted it, holding him in place--supporting almost all his weight. She grunted. Damn, he was heavy.

They were face-to-face.

Gaia grimaced. She could smell his rancid breath. Still, she savored the moment. By now he'd guessed that he couldn't possibly defeat her.

She let go of him. He nearly fell.

In the split second that he fought to regain his balance, she decided to switch from kung fu to karate. With an almost clinical detachment she chose to end this boring fight with a technique straight out of the
Go Rin No Sho.
A trick.

She raised her right fist.

He stared at it, backing off slightly.

She struck with her left.

The hand whistled audibly as it sliced through the frozen air toward his neck.

Contact.
All of her years of training went into that strike--straight to the pressure point. She felt his collarbone shatter, heard the soft cracking sounds. It felt like gravel under the soft layer of his blubbery flesh.

"Uhh!" he gurgled.

He sank to his knees. His eyes were wide in shock. His mouth fell open. He gaped up at her, shaking his head. But she felt no pity. He deserved this--for torturing Mary when she was trying to get clean, for hooking

others on drugs, for making the world a sadder and more desperate place. They
all
deserved this ... everyone who caused suffering, everyone who profited from other people's misery.

"Gaia?"

Mary's voice drifted out of the night. But it was as if Gaia heard it in a dream. Time slowed again; there was no future, no past--only a continuous present in which she needed to finish her opponent. That, too, was a lesson from the
Go Rin No Sho.
She could recite the lines word for word. She could almost see the page in front of her as she drew back her left leg:
"Strike with the left side, with the spirit resolved, until the enemy is dead...."

The drug dealer lifted one hand, using the other one to clutch his ruined shoulder. "No," he wheezed. His lungs labored heavily. "Please, stop--"

Her leg lashed out in a powerful kick. The tip of her toe connected just under his chin. Blood splattered from his mouth. But amazingly enough, he didn't cry out. He made absolutely no sound. His body hung in midair, with his head thrown back, eyes staring at the sky--then he collapsed backward, hitting the pavement with a sticky smack.

"Gaia!"
Mary shrieked.

Gaia stared down at him. The drug dealer's eyes were closed now. He lay perfectly still.

"What are you doing?" Mary's voice rose. "Stop it! Stop it!"

Gaia turned to answer her friend--but at that moment the ground beneath her seemed to open up and swallow her whole.

TWO DEAD BODIES. TWO.

That's what I'm dealing with.

Mary sat on the bench, still unable to move. Her eyes flashed from one crumpled form to the other. Time to rewind. She couldn't understand what had just happened. Gaia suddenly went into psycho kung fu mode, and then ...
what?
Both she and Skizz looked like ghosts. They were bone white. Skizz's blood glistened in black puddles on the pavement. His mouth was open. Several teeth were missing. Neither he nor Gaia seemed to be breathing. Mary knew
she
was breathing because her breath was quite visible--exploding from her nostrils in a rapid, dog-like rhythm. She was practically hyperventilating--

There!

A faint, grayish puff drifted from Skizz's unmoving lips.

Mary held her breath.

A few seconds later there was another puff. Then another. Skizz groaned.

Okay.
Mary swallowed.
He isn't dead.
This is good.
Very good. Fatally injured, maybe--but not dead. Not yet, anyway. That left Gaia....

Mary jumped up and crouched beside her. She couldn't panic. No. The last time Gaia had beat up Skizz, she had also keeled over--for no apparent reason. Mary had thought that Gaia was on coke, actually. At the time it seemed like the only reasonable explanation for her inexplicable behavior.

Of course, that beating had been a slap on the wrist compared to this.

But maybe Gaia's passing out was some kind of physical problem. Like an allergic reaction or something. Yeah. The harder Gaia pounded on somebody, the worse she suffered. And now Mary remembered that Gaia had avoided the subject of that first collapse--

"Oh, man," Gaia mumbled.

"Yes!" Mary whispered. Hot tears welled in her eyes. She reached out and grabbed Gaia's hand.
My God
. The skin was so cold....

Gaia opened an eyelid. "Are you okay?" she croaked.

"Me?" Mary hissed, glancing around. The question was almost funny, it was so absurd. But the situation was far from humorous. The park was still deserted. Her eyes fell on Skizz. He wasn't moving. He was still breathing, though. Barely.

"Yeah," Gaia answered. "He didn't do anything--"

"We gotta get out of here," Mary hissed urgently. "I think you hurt Skizz really bad."

Gaia clutched at Mary's arm and tried to pull herself into an upright position. She coughed a few times. She blinked at Skizz.

"Oh, no," she murmured shakily. Her entire body quivered. Mary couldn't help but notice that her neck was
dotted with goose bumps.
"I didn't mean ..."

Mary shook her head. "It--it doesn't matter," she stammered. She could feel her pulse rising, feel her face getting hot--even though the temperature must have been close to zero. Gaia looked so disturbed, so unsure of herself. What the hell had happened, anyway? What had pushed her so far over the edge? The entire evening was starting to feel less like reality and more like some horrible nightmare. Mary fought to stay in control. "We gotta get out of here, Gaia. I mean it. This is really bad...."

Gaia slumped against her. "You're gonna have to help me," she gasped.

"All right." Summoning all of her strength, Mary grabbed Gaia by the waist and hauled her to her feet. "Do you think you can walk?"

"I'll ... try." Gaia flung an arm around Mary's shoulders. She felt like a giant rag doll in Mary's grip--floppy and out of control. But Mary squeezed her as tightly as she could.

"All we have to do is get to your house, okay?"

Mary pleaded urgently. "It's not far at all. We can figure this all out when we get there."

Gaia nodded. "We gotta call 911. He's in really bad shape...."

"We will. We will." Mary shambled down the path toward the south exit, struggling to drag Gaia beside her. The girl could barely move.
She was like a zombie.
Catatonic.

The two of them nearly stepped on Skizz's face.

"I'm so sorry, Mary," Gaia whispered. "I'm so sorry--"

"It's all right," Mary interrupted.

But she was lying. It wasn't all right. Nothing was all right.

Loki smiled again. Every operative knew what it meant to be removed from an assignment. It meant removal from existence.

"I DON'T SEE ANYTHING ABOUT IT IN THE
paper," Mary mumbled. "So maybe he's okay."

Gaia sat slumped at the Nivenses' little kitchen table, staring across a soggy bowl of Froot Loops as Mary feverishly scoured the newspaper for any word of
Skizz's death.
Harsh winter sunlight streamed through the windows. Gaia didn't feel like mentioning that
The New York Times
probably wouldn't bother to report the death of a drug dealer. She didn't want to upset Mary any more than necessary. But the truth of the matter was that drug dealers got beat up and killed all the time in New York. It was a hazard of the business.

Still, if Mary believed that Skizz was okay, then she might calm down. And if Mary was calm, then maybe Gaia could convince herself that Skizz was okay, too.

Yeah. Sure.

I might have killed a man.

She'd been up all night, repeating those same words to herself over and over again, like some kind of
twisted mantra.
She hadn't slept. The fight had left her utterly spent--but she couldn't stop thinking about that look on his face after she'd kicked him....

But he'd been breathing. Yes. She definitely

remembered seeing his feeble gasps in the night air. So there was a chance he could have lived. Hopefully their call to 911 hadn't been too late.

"The problem is, I don't know his real name," Mary murmured distractedly, flipping through the Metro section to the obituaries. She held the paper up in front of her face. "I think it was James something...."

Gaia's bleary eyes fell to the brightly colored mush in her cereal bowl. Blech. For once she had absolutely no appetite. George had left a carton of minidoughnuts out on the counter as well--but even
those
didn't look tempting. She sighed and grabbed her bowl, then dumped its contents into the garbage and tossed it in the kitchen sink.

Mary flinched at the clatter.

"Sorry," Gaia mumbled.

"It's okay." Mary folded the paper and laid it in front of her. Her hair was stringy, disheveled. Her face was still as pale as it was the night before. Her freckles seemed to stand out in relief on her white skin. Dark circles ringed her eyes. Jesus. She looked as bad as Gaia felt. "Hey, are George and Ella going to be coming back anytime soon?"

Gaia shrugged. "Who knows?" She sighed and sat back down. The important thing was that they were gone. There was no
way
she could deal with either of them right now. George would probably try to have some
misguided heart-to-heart
,
and Ella would probably bawl her out for wasting a serving of breakfast cereal. But there was no point in getting

angry over imaginary events. She had plenty to worry about in real life. She nodded at the paper. "You know, I don't think you're gonna find his name in there even if he
did
die," she muttered.

"I know," Mary whispered. "I was just ..." She didn't finish.

"Maybe we should go look for him," Gaia suggested.

Mary nodded grimly. "Yeah. I was thinking about that."

Gaia ran a hand through the tangled blond mess on her head. "The problem is ..."

"If we find him, and he
is
okay ..."

Their gazes met across the table. There was no need to complete the thought. If Skizz had indeed survived that attack--and if he was out of the hospital and out on the streets--well, then, he would have only one mission in life.
Revenge.

"Gaia?" Mary's voice was soft, shaky. She leaned across the table. "Look, I know you hate talking about yourself and revealing your deep, dark secrets or whatever, but ... but the thing is ... I mean, what made you freak out like that?"

Gaia stared back at her. She blinked a few times. She'd known Mary was going to ask that question sooner or later. It was actually pretty amazing that Mary had waited so long. And she deserved to know. Even though Gaia hated confessionals more than she hated hanging out with Ella, she figured she owed Mary
some
kind of explanation.

At the very least she had to soothe Mary's fears that such an attack would never happen again. And if she tried to articulate what she did,
then maybe she would understand her own actions better herself.

"I really don't know," Gaia whispered, staring down at the newspaper. "It was just a lot of things, really." She drew in a deep breath and raised her eyes. "But mostly ... mostly it was that I felt responsible for putting you in danger. I was mad at myself. I just took it out on him."

Mary shook her head. "But it wasn't your fault. I mean, I didn't
have
to go into that park. I could have said no--"

"But I pushed you," Gaia insisted. She tried to smile. "And the thing was, I thought I was actually doing you a favor. I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. I thought that if you went into the park and nothing happened, you wouldn't be scared of Skizz anymore." Any trace of her smile vanished. "And look what happened."

"You saved my life, though," Mary pointed out. She swallowed, drumming her fingers on the wooden tabletop. "I mean, even in the worst-case scenario, you know, even if he doesn't make it ... you
were
protecting me. He had a gun. It was self-defense."

"Right," Gaia whispered emptily. "Self-defense."
Guilt chewed through her like some kind of flesh-eating disease.
Mary's words were a lie. Gaia didn't have to defend herself; she could have scared that guy off with one punch.

"It
was,"
Mary stated. But she might just have been trying to reassure herself. She slouched back in her chair and eyed Gaia curiously. "You know, you never told me. Where did you learn to fight like that, anyway?"

"My father," Gaia grumbled.

"Really?" All at once Mary sat up straight. Her gaze took on a new intensity. "The way you talk about him, it sounds like he knew everything about everything."

Gaia couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah. Sort of." She didn't try to mask the bitterness in her voice. "He instructed me in a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Like ..." Gaia hesitated. Amazingly enough, discussing her father wasn't nearly as painful as she would have imagined. It actually felt
good
to talk about him.
And it wasn't as if Mary was trying to get information from Gaia for any sinister purposes; she simply wanted to know as much as possible about her friend. It was perfectly natural. Especially since Gaia hardly ever talked.

"Well, he made me read a lot," Gaia continued. She lifted her shoulders. "He basically made me do things that most kids shouldn't have to do until they're a lot older. Or not at all."

"Why?" Mary persisted.

Gaia laughed again. "Beats the hell out of me. I'd like to ask him myself."

"Why can't you?"

"Because I haven't seen the son of a bitch in five years."

The words flew from Gaia's mouth even before she was aware of saying them.
Damn.
She blinked. She hadn't realized the depths of her own venom. She was surprised. But most of all, she was surprised she had revealed so much. Had she made a mistake? Mary didn't need to know all the specifics. And Gaia certainly didn't need to discuss them. It had been a reflex; she couldn't help it--

"What happened?" Mary whispered.

Gaia's eyes fell back to the newspaper. A bitter bile rose in her throat. A stream of disjointed images floated through her consciousness: her mother's flowing dark hair ... the delighted sound of her father's voice at the chess table in their cozy little wood-frame house:
"Katia! Our little girl is going to grow up to be a grand master!"
... a roaring fireplace ... a terrible, driving snow that obliterated everything--

"No."

Mary blinked. "What?"

Gaia stared up at her. Had she said "no" out loud? She must have. This was not good. Thinking about her father would inevitably lead to her thinking about her mother, about that final night--and she was in no condition to go down that road. Not now.
Not ever.

"I'm sorry," Mary murmured. "I don't mean to pry."

Gaia shook her head. "No ... no, it's just that ...

my--my father's a lousy guy," she stammered. Her throat tightened. "End of story."

Mary nodded. "I understand."

No, you don't,
Gaia thought. Her mind was in a very dark cloud.
And you never should have to understand about people like him--people who desert the ones they're supposed to love. Nobody should have to understand. I sure as hell never will.

"So what do you say?" Mary asked. Her tone was colorless. "You want to go to the park and see if we can find anything out?"

"Yeah." Gaia nodded. So much for opening up and confiding. She felt nauseated. Trying to determine whether she had killed a drug dealer was far preferable to digging up more of her past. "I do."

SUBJECT: JOHN DOE, MALE, CAUCASIAN, AGED
forty to fifty. Admitted to St. Vincent's at 10:33 P.M. December 28. Injuries: fractured clavicle, fractured jaw, massive internal bleeding. Preliminary reports indicate assault. Subject is still unconscious. Condition is stable but critical.

Fourteen grams of cocaine were discovered on his person.

Loki tossed the report on his desk without bothering to read the rest. There was no point. It merely confirmed what he had witnessed with his own eyes.

He'd been wrong to doubt Gaia's discipline.
Very wrong.
A smile spread across his face as he leaned back in his leather chair, basking in the sunshine that streamed through the giant windows of the loft. He didn't understand why Ella was upset. She stood by the door, pacing the wooden floor in small circles. But then, the woman's motives almost always defied logic.

"She could have killed him," Ella muttered.

"I'd have been that much more impressed if she had," Loki replied dryly. "And he still might die. He's not out of the woods yet."

Ella stopped pacing and shot Loki a hard stare. "She's out of control. If she had--"

"On the contrary," he interrupted, glaring at her. "She's very much
in
control. Had you been there with me, you would know. Her skills are still exquisite." He paused for a moment, furrowing his brow. "And why
weren't
you there, exactly?"

"I'm married," Ella snapped. She looked down at the floor. "In case you forgot, that takes up a lot of my time." Her voice softened. "George is a smart man. I've been playing this charade for five years, and if--"

"You're complaining?" Loki demanded.

Ella lifted her eyes. Her jaw twitched.

"Because if you're not satisfied, I can simply have

you removed from the assignment," he remarked. His tone was casual.

She didn't answer. Loki smiled again. Every operative knew what it meant to be removed from an assignment. It meant removal from existence.
Permanently.
She would envy "John Doe" in her final breathing moments.

"All I'm saying is that her behavior has been erratic," Ella murmured after a moment. "You said so yourself. One day she's out vandalizing, the next she nearly kills someone."

Loki shrugged. "I know now that it shows she has a highly developed sense of loyalty. All we have to do is manipulate that loyalty when the time comes."

Ella threw her hands in the air. "Well, when
is
that time?" she cried. "We've been--"

"That's none of your concern," Loki interrupted. "You
know
that. And if anyone's behavior has been erratic, it's been yours."

Again she was silent.

Loki's eyes fell back to the report. With the drug dealer out of commission--indefinitely, it seemed-- Mary Moss's life was no longer in jeopardy. They would have to come up with an alternate plan should it become necessary that she be neutralized. But he needed to observe her a few more times before he made that decision. It would have to be made soon, though. Ella's impatience notwithstanding, time was getting shorter.

Yes. The new year would bring many changes. For Gaia most of all.

Ella placed her hands on the back of Loki's neck. "I'm tired of waiting. And I'm tired of watching," she whispered, rubbing his shoulders--at first tentatively ... but then slowly, sensuously.

"Most of all, I'm tired of not getting what I want. What I know you want, too." She leaned down and kissed his lips softly, stroking his cheek.

For a moment Loki let himself be kissed. It had been a long time. Too long.

He pulled her onto his lap, caressing the small of her back with one hand. With the other he pulled at a strand of her hair. For such an incredible bitch she could be so soft, so delicious, so ...

Suddenly his senses returned in a blinding flash. What the hell was he doing? He had no time for Ella's foolishness. Loki stood abruptly, dumping Ella into a pitiful heap. He met her eyes with a glare of disgust. After all of the mistakes he had made, how could he ever be willing to let a woman distract him from the task at hand? Especially an inferior specimen like Ella. He knew perfectly well who she could never be. And so did she.