Melancholy: Episode 3

by Charlotte McConaghy

  We draw our guns and start firing around the door to cover Luke. We aren’t as efficient at it as he is – as he turns to run I see a bullet slam into his back and a savage gasp is torn from me. But he keeps going, barely faltering at all. It’s hit his vest, I realize with woozy relief.

  Luke doesn’t even stop when he reaches us, but hauls us forward and along the hallway.

  “Left!” I shout when we hit a turn, and we follow it around and into the patient area. Dozens of beds are lined up on either side, all thankfully empty. It’s dark in here, and I can only just see the shapes of Luke and Eric ahead of me.

  “Get to the controls,” I tell Luke. “On the wall – there’s a quarantine button that’ll stop them following us.”

  My hip cracks into the edge of a bed or something and I hit the ground hard, wincing.

  “Josi – ” Luke yells.

  “I’m fine! Hit the button!” I struggle to my feet and run after them. As he finds the controls the lights flood on and glass walls begin to slide out of the roof on either end of the room. Four inches thick, this glass was developed a decade or so ago, after the walls went up and containment became the government’s top priority. It’s all over the city, throughout government buildings and facilities, and there is no record of it ever having been breached.

  This is what runs through my head in the split second my eyes catch sight of something glinting on the floor in the middle of the room.

  A vial.

  My hands dart to my pockets – please please please – to find that my left still contains the sadness cure I stole, which means the one I dropped when I fell must be Luke’s antidote. No.

  I don’t think. I just move.

  “Josi!”

  My body bullets across the room and lunges for the vial, feeling it between my sweat-slippery fingers. I am turning back when Knox arrives, ducking beneath the lowering glass and coming at me.

  I hurl myself toward Luke and Eric, but that glass is coming down way too fast.

  I’m not going to make it.

  I throw myself along the floor, extending my hand and letting the vial skid beneath the glass a second before it seals us off.

  Everything goes quiet.

  Slowly I rise to my feet. Luke is staring at me in horror. At his feet, the vial has rolled to a safe stop. Eric jabs at the control buttons frantically, but he won’t be able to get it open, not without the code, which none of us knows.

  “Go,” I tell them bluntly, unsure whether they can hear me. “Go detonate the bombs, or I’ll never forgive either of you.”

  I turn around without waiting for their responses.

  In the sealed quarantine section with me is a Blue-level Blood, his soulless eyes appraising me. I can feel him noting my small stature, my exhaustion, each one of my weapons. I try to do the same to him, but I’m so unfocused, my mind darting around in panic and weariness. A rush of adrenalin strikes and I grab my gun, firing wildly at him.

  Knox ducks behind a bed, but the bullets ricochet off the glass, pinging around the room unpredictably. Beds are hit, trays explode, screens smash and glass sprays the ground. I yelp and take cover behind a chair.

  “Not too wise, kid,” Knox calls to me. I hear something clatter and peek out to see that he’s thrown both his guns to the ground.

  Oh god. I don’t want to face him without a weapon. But I sure as hell can’t fire a gun again. The bullet could just as easily bounce into my skull as hit him. With trembling hands I return my gun to its holster.

  I can hear him walking toward me but I can’t move.

  “Stand up,” I hear Luke’s faint voice say, and look through the glass at him. Eric is gone, I hope to safety.

  “Josephine,” he orders. “Stand up.”

  I take a breath and lurch to my feet. Knox is upon me, hands reaching for my neck – he must think he can snap it like Luke did to the other guys. Then terror spikes and rushes my body, making me fast. I duck beneath his hands and shove my shoulder into his solar plexus with enough force, so that I can get around him, find the middle of the floor and turn to lift my fists.

  Knox faces me, astonishment in his eyes. “You wanna fight me, kid?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Guess not,” he shrugs, lunging at me with a swift right jab to my head. I only just manage to dodge it – he’s too quick – and as I jerk backwards my hands come up to protect my head with a wild gasp of panic.

  Knox’s punch flies toward me and I duck low into a huddled crouch, trying to cover my head again. He stops. I wince, looking up to see that he’s just staring at me with pity in his eyes. Pity and scorn.

  What am I doing what the fuck am I doing –

  “Stand up!” Luke roars at me.

  I rise unsteadily, ashamed but unable to do anything about it.

  Knox shakes his head. “This is ridiculous.” He turns to Luke and yells. “I’m not gonna fight a little girl, Townsend. Tell her to stand down and I’ll take her in gently.” Knox removes handcuffs from his belt.

  Luke looks only at me.

  All this training and this is what I’ve turned out to be: a coward.

  His voice reaches me faintly through the glass, but I hear every word. “He’s going to hurt you,” Luke tells me, holding my eyes. “It doesn’t matter. All you have to do is hurt him more.”

  A chill travels down my spine, and something unlocks itself inside me.

  There have been moments in my life when I have been savage. I remember only fragments of these moments, but I can feel them, somehow. They live in my heart, where the monstrous one dwells.

  It was me who always cared about pain. She never did. So in this moment I let her icy fingers reach out to clutch at my heart and squeeze. The pieces of her coil into the pieces of me until I am not sure where I end and she begins. She is colder than any Blood, and she is screaming to get free, and for the first time in my life I will let her.

  Knox approaches me with his handcuffs.

  Everything in my body tingles; I can feel it all, every inch of it. I open my eyes. Hold my wrists out to him.

  As Knox reaches for one, I snatch the metal of the cuffs and wrench him toward me, sending my knee into his groin.

  A shocked breath of air escapes him and I use the split second to curl behind him, the cuffs cinching around his neck. I put all my weight into dragging him to the ground by the throat, choking the air out of him.

  He swings me sideways, slamming me to the floor and crawling on top – No, don’t let him on top of you. If he pins me it’s all over. I roll out of his way and grab the edge of a bed, pulling myself awkwardly to my feet and just managing to avoid his clutches.

  I’m about to attack him while he’s still rising but he’s too quick, launching to his feet in less than a second. I raise my fists, and this time I do it properly. No fear, only concentration. Spot his weakness.

  His blows hit me hard in the arms and body and it hurts, but I’m watching him. He fights like Luke does, and also not. I can see the edges of his blows, can see the dart of his eyes before he throws a punch, and I can see how much more certain he is with his right side.

  I attack his left with a quick jab, wanting to see.

  Sure enough, he dodges it, but there’s a slight shift in his stance. It doesn’t look right to me.

  Knox jabs me twice in the guts and as I lower my arms to block him he hits me in the chin with a heavy uppercut that sends me reeling. I let the momentum take me backwards until I feel a metal tray against my spine. Ducking low beneath another incoming blow, I twist and grab the tray, propelling myself around in a wide arc to smash the metal straight into his face.

  Blood spurts and I do it again, twice more until he catches the tray and pulls me in close to his body. His knee jams up into my guts and the air leaves my lungs with an oomph.

  I hit the floor on all fours and he kicks me in the ribs, breaking at least three by the feel of it.

  I am dizzy with pain. My brain stops working. My
limbs feel liquid.

  But it’s only pain. As long as I’m conscious, it’s only pain.

  As his next kick connects with my abdomen I curl myself around the impact of it, sending him off balance and falling forward. I draw the knife from my belt and lunge up at him with it. He twists and the blade takes a thin slice off the fabric on his shoulder.

  We rise, facing each other. He draws his own knife.

  Great. I don’t have a clue how to be in a knife-fight.

  He lunges and I jump backwards, narrowly avoiding a blade to the guts. Focus.

  We jab and slash, neither one of us able to land a cut, both too protective. I have to change tactics. On the next jab of his knife, I allow it to slash through my cheek. I immediately swing my own blade, not toward his body but up and into his extended right arm. It slices through his flesh and his blade flies free. Before he can react I dart forward and slash my knife through his right hip.

  Knox twists back and away, shielding himself. Unfortunately the movement catches my knife and tugs it from my sweaty fingers. I punch him in the back of the head instead, but the blow isn’t hard enough.

  His arm snaps up, fist taking me in the face before I can try again.

  Spots dance before my eyes and he’s coming at me, hitting me in the chest, the guts, the face. I can’t breathe. There’s blood in my mouth and the room is spinning. I remember to get my arms up to take the blows.

  Through the delirium I can see again the weakness I spotted. He’s still favoring his right side, even after I slashed it with my knife. It’s his left knee – he’s protective of it, like he might be if he’s had a recent injury.

  I can’t last much longer like this. I have to finish it before I lose consciousness.

  I turn and run – as though my tail is between my legs – and hear him give a breath of victorious laughter. But I reach the other end of the room where I know there’s a chair, because it was the chair I hid behind. And when I hid, I saw that the chair has metal legs that click out of the base.

  And I know a lot about using metal chair legs as weapons. I know too much.

  Sliding to the floor, I grab the chair and twist one of the legs free. I barely scramble under the bed before Knox reaches me, his knife reclaimed and swiping through my ear.

  I haul myself up onto the bed, using the spring of the mattress to launch me. I twist mid-air, kicking out with my leg and taking Knox heavily in the head. It stuns him, and as I land I swing that chair leg as hard as I can into Knox’s left knee.

  A scream leaves him and his legs buckle.

  I hammer his knee again and again until I feel the bones smash beneath the metal of my pole.

  The pain of it causes him to faint dead away.

  I am breathing heavily, the adrenalin leaving me in a steady rush. The room slows to a stop, the details of it coming back into focus. I blink, returning to my mind. Everything goes quiet and still.

  “Josephine.”

  I look up, so dazed I can barely see him.

  “Kill him,” Luke tells me.

  I swallow. Shake my head.

  “He’s going to wake up and manage his pain. You can’t let that happen.”

  My mouth is full of blood. “I don’t want to be this,” I manage through it.

  Luke’s expression is hard. “You don’t have a choice. He wakes up and you’re dead. Take everything inside you, every tiny piece of rage and hurt and all the fucked-up shit you’ve been through, and shoot him in the head.”

  I start crying.

  “Don’t cry,” Luke orders me. “Draw your gun.”

  My hand is shaking badly as I pull out the pistol. My eyes are swimming with tears. “He’s like you,” I plead. “He’s just like you.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Go closer. Put the barrel against his forehead.”

  This is sick.

  Clenching my jaw, I hold the barrel against Knox’s forehead.

  “He’s about to wake up. Do it now.”

  Knox stirs, and I don’t think about it – I pull the trigger.

  *

  Luke

  I watch it all, and understand when the knowing of something becomes the knowing of something. I knew she was strong. I knew she had an incredible strength of will. But I didn’t know. Not until this moment, as I watch her defeat a Blood twice her size. I feel the closest I have felt to normal in weeks. It’s as though watching all of this has scorched the drugs from my system.

  As I see her kill him I realize the price of this victory. The price of her survival. She has become like me, and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.

  I sent Eric with the radio and instructions for Will to detonate. It will be any second now. I can feel the steady rush of an ocean tide ripping all the moments of our life from us.

  Josi straightens, the gun falling from her hand. She is splattered in Knox’s blood and her own.

  “Come here,” I say, heart pounding.

  She crosses to me, in shock. I press my hands to the glass, look into her eyes. “Put it in a box, and lock that box, and then put the box away. It’s a part of you, but it doesn’t rule you. You decide where it goes.”

  Josi wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing the blood further. “What was the point? I’m dead anyway.”

  I shake my head.

  “Why are you still here?” She is suddenly very cold. The result of putting it in a box. This is what happens, what has to happen. “I told you to go. Get out of here and tell Will to blow the place. Or all of this was pointless.”

  I don’t move.

  “Go!” she shouts furiously. “I don’t want you here.”

  “Josi – ”

  “You think you’re being noble or something but you’re not. The resistance needs you, Luke Townsend. The world does. Leave and finish what we started.”

  I take a breath, hold her eyes. My words, when they come, are simple and sure. A tide rushing out. “There is no world in which I would ever leave you to die alone.”

  She stares at me. Her shoulders finally sag and her face presses against the glass. I want to hold her, reach through this glass and melt into her. Instead I rest my forehead to hers.

  I don’t care about the world. I am a selfish creature. Ruled by love and violence. If I must watch her die, I will die with her, and that’s the end.

  Chapter 28

  September 12th, 2066

  Luke

  Movement in the corner of my eye. I straighten to see figures enter the other side of the room and stand behind the glass. Four Bloods, Jean Gueye and Falon Shay.

  Josi turns to face them too. Knox’s body lies in the space between.

  The Minister taps the control panel and the glass starts to rise. My heart explodes with hope and then shatters the second I realize that only their side of the glass is moving. I am still separated from Josi.

  They enter the patient area with her.

  “Miss Luquet,” Shay says. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” His eyes dart up to me. “And you, Townsend. Nice to see you again. You’ve been busy since we last met. Think I might revoke that medal of honor of yours after this business.”

  I don’t feel very human as I look at the man. I turn my eyes from him without a word, which I know will get under his skin more than anything. “Jean. I’ve missed you.”

  She looks really pissed. “Well haven’t you turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life.”

  “I reckon a lot of people feel that way about me.” I smile darkly.

  “You surprise me, Prime Minister,” Josi interrupts the reunion calmly. “I sort of pictured you as a cockroach.”

  Shay smiles. “And why is that, dear?”

  “You’re the one man who manages to survive through everything because you hide out of sight and avoid danger. And yet here you stand. In a building seconds away from being blown up.”

  “They won’t blow up their leaders,” he says, unbothered.

  It’s Josi’s turn to smile now, just a slight tilt to her
lips. “Oh dear. You thought we were in charge? Not at all. We’re soldiers, easily replaced and sacrificed if need be. You understand that, don’t you?” Her eyes move to the dead Blood on the ground.

  Shay watches her. He’s not amused anymore. I can see him weighing it up. He’s itching to get the hell out of here. But he’s also smart, and thinks she’s bluffing. She and I are big gets, now that we’ve openly waged war on the cure. He wants to string up our corpses as examples for all to see.

  He gestures and the four Bloods take hold of Josi. She struggles with a wild snarl of rage, but they hold her firm and there’s no way out of it.

  Something strange uncurls within me. Something dark.

  The drug inside surges back to life with a vengeance, but I think it’s carried by a wave of my own fury, a beast of a thing that has lain in wait for a very long time, yearning to rise.

  Thoughts go. Logic and rationale go. Control goes. Fear with it.

  I am animal. I’m a brain that has flushed my limbs with grunt guts blood fists balls teeth fight. My amygdala explodes, flooding me with the primal screaming shrieking need to survive and to kill.

  The glass separating her from me must go.

  I slam my fist into it. Pain slices up my arm. But there’s power there, too, unnatural power. I punch the glass a second time. Blood smears it. I punch it again and again and again and again and again and again –

  My hand breaks, the bones within splintering. Ravens fly around my head, hundreds of them. They make me strong.

  I punch again.

  The glass cracks.

  Josi is screaming at me to stop, please stop, but they are dragging her away and I know that if I don’t get to her now I’ll never find her and I must kill Shay now now now –

  A roar leaves my mouth as I smash through the unbreakable glass.

  Shards slice through my skin and blood pools to the ground. I feel nothing. Nothing but rage. It overwhelms, drowns. I am saturated in it.

  *

  Josephine

  I can’t get free, even as I struggle with all I have. The hands on my arms are too strong, too tight. Shay and Jean lead me down an empty corridor, fast like they finally believe the building could blow at any second.