Triple Infinity

by K. J. Jackson

  Furious fire burned in her blood as she barreled down the steps, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and grabbing her dagger with her free hand. She plunged it into the back of the nearest Malefic, aiming at his heart. She yanked it from his body and he sank to the ground, falling on the feet of a Malefic just to the right of him.

  Skye waited until that Malefic realized what a body on his feet meant, and looked up at her. Before he could get his machete-holding arm up, she swung, slicing halfway through his neck with her sword.

  She killed two more that way, skirting along behind the crowd, picking them off as their attention was on Aiden. The masters had drilled it into her head that surprise, sneaking, and fighting dirty would be her best friends in a melee like this. They were right.

  When two Malefics finally realized death was sneaking up on them from behind, Skye lost her edge. She had to block one heavy old sword, while trying to dodge the thin saber swinging at her belly from the other. The saber soon hit flesh, and cut into her side.

  But instead of hindering her, the slice triggered the memory from the first time they were here. The memory of that first dead woman, with her back split open and baby legs poking out from under her. The image flashed in Skye’s mind, and triggered something deep within her — unleashing a lethal firestorm of rage.

  And then she lost all control.

  She dropped to the ground and rolled, dagger in her right hand slicing the tendons on the back of one of the Malefics’ ankles. Sword up, she got it just under his heart as he fell. She kicked him up and off her sword, rolling to avoid the falling body.

  As she scrambled on the floor, she dug the dagger into the foot of another Malefic coming down on her. She dodged a thrust of his machete, and sent the side of her sword straight up between his legs. He crumbled in front of her, and she pulled a secondary dagger from her calf, and buried it into his heart through his back.

  At the same time as Skye was making her way downstairs and into the battle, Triaten got down the hallway to the room Charlotte was in, just in time to see her swing her sword at thin air. The speeder Malefic stopped against a far wall, laughing. Blood trickled from Charlotte’s forearm.

  “Char, behind you.” Triaten warned.

  Malefics were climbing in the open window across the room.

  Charlotte moved away from that side of the room and jumped onto the bed. “They’re yours, Tri. I’m settling a different score.”

  Triaten rushed across the room, engaging the first two Malefics that had made it through the window.

  Charlotte stood tall, but still, on the bed. She stared down at the mattress, its rumpled sheet half pulled off. She ignored the speeder Malefic at the corner of the room, all focus aimed next to her feet. She waited.

  The mattress twitched, and Charlotte swung. The speeder’s movement onto the mattress gave her just enough time to react. A direct hit, sword sinking into flesh.

  The Malefic’s speed slowed and he stumbled, falling off the bed. Charlotte jumped down after him, not allowing a second to pass in her pursuit. She swung her sword and connected, slicing his battle hand off at the wrist.

  Immediately, the Malefic picked up his sword with his other hand, shaking it to set the severed hand free from the hilt. He jumped to his feet and Charlotte swung low, aiming at his ankle. The sword didn’t cut the entire way through the flesh, but it was enough to disconnect his entire foot, the heel only holding on to the leg by some sparse tendons and skin.

  By the window, Triaten had two Malefics down, and he looked back over his shoulder as he waited for the next brave one to make it into the room. Charlotte danced around the speeder as he hobbled on one foot and swung at her, air light under her feet. She was beautiful to watch in battle. She had always been efficient at killing, and there was never any hesitation in her swing. A travelling guillotine.

  So Triaten’s gut sank when he realized this time was different. She was aiming at all the appendages on this Malefic. Dismembering him, limb by limb.

  Two Malefics busted through the window in tandem. Triaten got to the one closest to him, just as the other skirted across the room and out the door, not even pausing to give a go at Charlotte. Triaten pulled his blade out of the dead Malefic in front of him, and then tore out of the room after the runner.

  Triaten caught him, just as he reached the main entryway. Grabbing him at the scruff of his neck, Triaten sent him pounding to the floor. The Malefic started to beg, but Triaten didn’t pause. He had no pity for the monsters that had massacred thousands of innocents. His sword sank quickly into the Malefic’s chest.

  Looking up, Triaten was momentarily distracted by the full-out battle in front of him. Aiden had six on him, which wasn’t unusual and he was handling the lot of them just fine. But what got Triaten’s attention was watching Skye pick apart the Malefics, one by one. Whatever had been going through Skye’s mind when they were on Mustique, and she was fighting Genevieve, had clearly been replaced with a warrior spirit. She was still somewhat awkward in her fighting, but made up for it tenfold in brute rage.

  Aiden and Skye clearly had this room under control, so Triaten sped back down the hall to Charlotte. He arrived just as Charlotte killed the fifth Malefic coming in through the window. Her steel was through the Malefic before his feet hit the floor. She shoved his body back out the window.

  The speeder Malefic, still alive, was now a stump of a torso leaning up against a wall, sitting in a pool of blood. Every limb was absent.

  Charlotte turned back from the window and went over to the speeder. With a high swing, her sword came down along the Malefic’s head. An ear went flying and he screeched in pain.

  Alarm shot through Triaten. “Charlotte, what are you doing?”

  She didn’t look at Triaten, her eyes trained at the stump in front of her. “Doing what deserves to be done.”

  Slowly, she grabbed a dagger from her belt and bent down in front of the Malefic. She flipped the blade in her hand for leverage, and thrust it into him, just under his ribcage. Bit by bit, she slid the steel down the side of his stomach as he tried to jerk his body away. Entrails started to spill.

  Triaten swallowed at the grotesque sight. He’d seen much worse. But he’d never seen it at the hands of Charlotte. “Stop it Charlotte. This isn’t you.”

  “It is.”

  “No, you need to stop and think, Char.”

  “Leave then, Tri, if you don’t want to watch.” Her voice was deathly low as she stood back up. “This is what’s going to happen.”

  Triaten moved into the room, his palm up to her, trying to reason. “I want to watch you kill him. Not torture him.”

  Charlotte sheathed her dagger and shifted her sword back into her right hand. She brought the sword down, quickly slicing off the other ear. The Malefics screams had turned into shaking sobs.

  “You’re better than this Char.”

  Her eyes didn’t leave the ripped-apart Malefic. “Am I?”

  “Yes.”

  “He killed babies, Tri. He killed babies. Right. In. Front. Of. Me.” Vengeful spite punctuated each word.

  “Yes. And we saved them. And he will die.”

  She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not good enough. He still did it.”

  Triaten was within arm’s reach of her. His voice was low, begging for her to listen to reason. “Char, it’s how he goes that you have to live with. Just kill him and be done.”

  Charlotte raised her sword to waist level, and then her hand wavered. Her eyes went to Triaten. The calm reason he exuded managed to break through the crusty shell of revenge she had erected. She glared at him, and then, with a frustrated growl, she swung, slicing off the Malefic’s head.

  Before her sword even halted, Triaten snatched her, enveloping her into his chest. She crumpled into him.

  The shaking started, as was usually the case with Charlotte immediately after battle. Triaten gripped her as tightly as he could to his chest, trying to stop the trembling, all the while knowing
it would just have to subside on its own. He really couldn’t do anything to stop it.

  His left hand went to her neck, caressing rock-hard tendons. He stood for minutes, holding her up, until the shaking eventually petered out. When he was sure Charlotte had her feet about her again, he pulled away from her to report to Aiden and Skye.

  “All’s good here. We’re off to check the perimeter.”

  Aiden’s voice came back in their ears. “We’re almost done here.”

  In the entryway, Skye worked over every Malefic that was within reach. And it wasn’t that she had suddenly developed superior strength or skill, nor elegance in how she fought — she was still clumsy, but at the same time, gritty and tenacious. Any stab, any slice into her body didn’t slow her down. Blood drawn from her veins only added to her tornado of fury.

  Skye lost count after six, and across from her, Aiden fought in contrast to her, elegant and cold as he cut down Malefic after Malefic. His strength and speed benefitted him, in that blades rarely made it close to his body.

  A dagger sunk into the back of her shoulder in the same spot the bullet had hit. The hilt of the blade stuck out of her back as she twirled, facing two in-sync attackers. Both big. And both looking like they were about to tear her limbs off.

  She dove to the ground in-between the two. She switched the sword from her left to right hand so she could try to get the dagger out of her back. She couldn’t reach it. A machete blade came down on her thigh.

  Two shots burst through the air, a bullet hitting each of the Malefics above her. Skye gave a quick glance in time to see Aiden throw the gun in the corner, just as he blocked two swords close to his neck.

  The Malefics were both blown back against the wall, and it was the sliver of opportunity Skye needed. She moved to her feet instantly, swinging her sword, and was rewarded with slicing the head off of one. The other snarled at her as he straightened up from the bullet shot. Skye ducked as he swung at her head, and she kicked her leg out, toppling him at his feet. She grabbed the hilt of her sword with both hands and sunk the tip straight down into his heart.

  It was quiet behind her.

  And then a pain shot through her body, straight from where the dagger was still embedded in her shoulder. She spun, sword close to her head for protection, but also to kill whatever was behind her.

  Aiden caught her wrist just as the sword sunk into the muscle on his forearm.

  “Easy, tiger.”

  “Holy hell, Aiden! Do you not see what state I’m in — I almost killed you.”

  Aiden smiled. “Killed, no. You are the first one today to draw some blood, though.” He looked down at his bronzed arm, now marred with a thin line of blood.

  Skye followed his eyes. Only Aiden could fight twenty-plus Malefics and not have a scratch. Maddening, and she wasn’t really so sorry she had sliced him. But she coughed out an apology anyway. “Sorry. But still. What the hell are you doing to me?”

  “The dagger in your shoulder. Remember? I thought I could slide it out quick before you knew what was happening. I expected to be quicker than you, and instead I just sliced the cut open farther.”

  He stepped around her and grabbed her shoulder right above the blade, steadying her in place before he grabbed the hilt again. “Don’t move this time.”

  He slid it straight out, smooth and almost painlessly.

  Almost. “Eeeesh,” Skye exhaled.

  “Skye, you have wounds and gaping holes all over your body, and this you ‘Eeeesh’?” He stepped back in front of her.

  She looked at him like he had just grown a medusa head. “I don’t have gaping holes.”

  Aiden’s finger started to point to various spots on her body. Arm, stomach, thigh, neck, calf, wrist, and forehead — the bath of blood that covered her was grotesque.

  “Oh.” It was all she managed to muster when she realized he was right. She looked at the room full of dead bodies. “Have we taken care of all of them?”

  “I think. Triaten and Charlotte are checking the perimeter. Your ear piece?” Aiden asked.

  Skye shrugged with a point to the countless bodies littering the entryway. “Came out somewhere in there, I guess.”

  Aiden led her over to the stairs, stepping over limbs and torsos. “You need to sit. I frankly don’t know how you’re still standing with all that blood draining out of you.”

  Skye sat down on a step and pulled her knees up, resting on them. She looked out across the bodies. “I don’t remember half of that.”

  “I don’t imagine you would. You were on another level.”

  “I was?”

  Aiden nodded. “You were.” He bent down in front of her, eyes level with hers, and his hand behind her neck. “You did really good, Skye.”

  She nodded numbly. Aiden’s compliments were rare, so when they did come, they meant something. She just wished she wasn’t seconds away from passing out so she could revel in it.

  “When Charlotte gets back in, we’ll have her heal you.”

  Aiden started to drag Malefic bodies, four at a time, out of the entryway, lining them up in rows outside the building. One, too make sure they were out of sight from the children, and two, to make sure all of them were really dead. The bodies would be covered with sheets, and Doc Saima would have them taken care of.

  { Chapter 14 }

  Flying back to the mountain, Skye was sleeping on the couch in the plane, head in Aiden’s lap. Charlotte was sleeping on the bed behind the back wall of the main cabin. Both were exhausted after the battle — Skye, from her numerous wounds, and Charlotte, from healing all of those wounds.

  Triaten walked through the main cabin after grabbing a bottle of water. He hadn’t left Charlotte’s side on the plane, save for two brief conversations early on in the flight that he had with Horace.

  He paused in front of Aiden and pointed at Skye with his water. “Have you told her that several of the sites still had massacres?”

  Aiden shook his head. “She hasn’t woken up yet.” His voice was soft. “I’m not sure what to tell her. Great job on saving hundreds of thousands, but we still lost a good thousand? How can I expect her to come to terms with that?”

  “We know losses like that are unavoidable. We got used to it.”

  Aiden just shrugged his shoulders.

  Triaten’s face took on a look of pride. “She was a firestorm in that battle, wasn’t she?”

  “You saw?”

  “Yes. I watched her for a few moments after I chased a Malefic down the hallway toward you. A hellcat.” He leaned against the table opposite the couch. “She’s going to be the most lethal of all of us, isn’t she?”

  Aiden’s eyes went down to his wife, peaceful with deep, even breathing. Sadness touched his eyes. “I hope not.”

  “Why on earth not?”

  Aiden’s fingers played with her hair, the auburn waves falling from the ponytail onto his thigh. The battle blood had been washed off her body the best she could in the bathroom on the plane, but there were still remnant red streaks lining her neck. “She deserves so much more than that. More than the death she can unleash. More than the burden death gives.”

  “She’s strong. She can handle it, Aiden.”

  He shook his head. “I just don’t want that for her.”

  “You’re forgetting that she can save so many. She can do things we never dreamed possible. Think of the lives she just saved. Think of the lives she will save. It’s bigger than any of us could ever do.”

  Aiden was silent. Triaten waited him out.

  Staring down at her, Aiden eventually broke. “I just want her safe. In body. And in mind. That’s all.”

  “You’re worried about her mind?”

  “Sometimes yes, sometimes no.” Aiden shrugged. “She doesn’t remember half of what she did today.”

  Triaten had no reasonable response to the concern.

  Hours later, Triaten leaned back from the forward position he had been in for the last hour, sitting with his arms r
esting on his knees as he hovered over Charlotte’s sleeping form.

  He missed the smell of her, he realized, now that they were inches away from each other. His eyes ran along her body, stopping to rest on her face. Long lashes were closed, accentuating the deep purple circles under her eyes. Her high cheekbones were more pronounced than usual, but he had expected that. The drive in her meant she rarely broke for eating when working at something. She was easily consumed, and there was nothing as consuming as caring for the thousands of refugees at Doc Saima’s camp. So he knew she hadn’t been eating well, or enough.

  She groaned in her sleep and shifted on the bed. “No, not the babies. Not the babies,” came out softly from her mouth. “Tri will come. I swear it. He will.” Her head turned on the pillow, and she was silent again.

  Now that the immediate threat had passed, and he had her safely within arm’s reach, Triaten’s anger at her elevated, minute after minute. Unfair, he knew, since she was asleep and couldn’t defend herself. But he was reaching furious, nonetheless. All the anger that he had shoved from his mind the past few months ballooned, and it threatened to pop. He was mad at her for using him. Mad at her for leaving. But mostly mad at her for almost dying.

  But the anger had to live with the impulse Triaten was having, to just crawl into the bed with Charlotte and hold her, capture her body, and make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

  He could never have her that close to death again.

  With a jerk, Charlotte woke up with a start, gasping as she shot up in bed, hand subconsciously reaching for a dagger she always kept by her head. It wasn’t there and momentary panic flashed on her face. Strange bed. Strange place. It wasn’t until her eyes focused on Triaten that she exhaled in relief.