by Willow Rose
The bike roared up the road ahead until she reached the top of the hill and realized the road was blocked by two military trucks. She almost fell off the bike as she turned it around so fast it skidded to the side. Shots were fired behind her and voices yelled.
Jetta turned back, but as she did, the bike slipped on the wet grass and she was on the ground, the bike on top of her, pinning her down. Seconds later, what seemed like hundreds of boots had surrounded her. The bike was lifted off her and soon after she was picked up, her hands cuffed behind her back, the hoodie pulled off.
The black lieutenant who had pulled the hoodie smiled widely when he saw her face.
"Well, well, well," he said, "The girl with the two faces. The devil from Chicago. Boy, have we been looking for you."
"Don't," Jetta said and tried to get away, but they held her down. “Don't…come near me," she said, strained. "For your own good."
The lieutenant clenched his fist and knocked the air out of her stomach. Jetta bent forward, gasping.
"That’s for my brother," the lieutenant said, his nostrils flaring. He slammed his fist into her face. "And that’s for my best friend." He sniffled angrily and looked at his soldiers.
"Now, take her away."
Chapter 68
She was thrown into some old prison cell in a building where half of the roof was missing except above the cells. Jetta landed face-first on the dirty ground.
"Please," she said to the soldiers as they turned their backs on her. "Please, don't keep me in here."
"Do you know what you did?" one of them said, placing his face awfully close to hers. She pulled back, afraid she might infect him. "Fifteen thousand of our soldiers died on that night. We have struggled to fight for our freedom ever since. City after city has fallen since Chicago. Our people are being killed, slaughtered, and we have no food. Back then, at least we had a chance. You took that from us. Our last hope."
Jetta's eyes grew wide as she saw the anger in the soldier's eyes and she crawled backward.
"Don't get too close to me," she said.
"Oh, don't you worry about that. No one will touch you, except to execute you."
The soldier walked away and slammed the door shut behind him. Then she heard it being locked.
Maybe it's for the best, she thought to herself, staring at the closed door. At least in here, you can't make anyone sick.
The fact was, she didn't know. She didn't know how close people had to be to her to get sick. Tyler had never gotten sick; neither had Amare, and they were pretty close to her. Maybe it was just luck? Or maybe it was a more widespread thing, like Plague and Cancer. Something that grew slowly across the country and spread. She realized she didn't understand much of it, but she knew she had to stay away from people from now on. The best she could.
Jetta pulled herself up and sat against the brick wall when she spotted a set of eyes in the darkness that made her heart jump with happiness.
"Nanna!"
Nanna smiled. Jetta rushed to her and they hugged. With her were Kevin and his entire family, Mr. Richards, and Amare. Jetta hugged all of them, crying tears of happiness and then of sadness as she thought of her own involvement in their deaths.
"Oh, Nanna," she said, and they sat together on the floor, Jetta hiding her face in her lap.
"All those people. I am responsible for their deaths, even for yours."
Nanna stroked her gently across her head. The bones in her arm were rattling. It was odd that she wasn't breathing, and it reminded Jetta that she wasn't really alive. None of the dead ever spoke, and Jetta missed hearing her grandmother's voice so badly.
"I know what you're thinking," Jetta said. "You're wondering why I don't just break out of here. Right? I know I could. I could always raise the army and have them help me."
Jetta shook her head. "But I don't want to, Nanna. Look what happened last time I did. I should have stayed underground, but I simply couldn't, Nanna. I couldn't stay with those people anymore, or whatever they are. All that death, Nanna. I can't stand it. I don't like it."
Jetta chuckled in a sad way. "I know. The Queen of the Dead who doesn’t like death. What irony, right? I know I’m supposed to be like her, like my mother, but why don't I want to? Why am I so confused?"
Jetta fell asleep in her grandmother's lap, wishing her grandmother could answer her just this once.
Chapter 69
Jetta stayed in the prison cell for days. When a week had passed, they came to her. The officer who had found her grabbed her and put her in a small room with no windows. They placed her in a chair in the middle of the room, her arms tied behind her back. There was a pool of blood underneath the chair and some smeared on the walls as well. A man, a general, stepped in. He looked at her face closely. The soldiers shut the door behind him and stood guard by it.
"We had begun to think you were nothing but a myth," he said. "You were all they saw. Every witness we spoke to after the massacre told the same tale of a girl with two faces walking through the city, causing the houses to crumble, killing almost every soldier in town. How did you do it?"
Jetta looked up at him, then shook her head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
He hit her, a burning slap across the face. Then he meticulously studied her cheek. His glare felt harsh, but Jetta's eyes didn't avoid his. She knew what she had done and was ready to face it. She deserved this, and she knew it. It was nothing compared to the pain she felt inside of her.
"Not a scratch, huh? Not even a mark." He hit her again, this time harder. She felt the pain for less than a second and then it was gone.
"Nothing," he said.
The next blow fell on her nose and she heard the bones crack. The general heard it too and waved his hand in the air. His hand was hurt too. Jetta's nose hung to the side. Seconds later, there was a rustling as the nose corrected itself and, a few more moments later, even the blood was gone. The general stepped back, partly scared, partly fascinated. He stared at her nose, then looked at his hand that was still bruised from the impact.
"What…are you?"
"I told you. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"She's the devil," the officer who had brought her in, said. "I told you. I hit her when we found her; heck, she had a motorcycle on top of her and not a scratch. She's the devil. She's here to curse us all."
The general looked at the lieutenant. Then he laughed. "You really think she might be the devil?"
"The devil's offspring," the lieutenant said. "I say we kill her."
"Wouldn't that make the devil mad, then?" asked the general, smiling.
The lieutenant looked perplexed. The general laughed again. "You really believe all that nonsense? Well, I don't. I think she's a weapon. The whites created her to destroy us." He walked closer and stared at her, then looked at her neck like he was looking for a button to turn her off.
"A robot?" the lieutenant asked.
"A very cleverly made one. One made to deceive us and then kill us. How else do you explain fifteen thousand dead by the hand of one little girl?"
"Please," Jetta said. "For your own good…"
A clenched fist whistled through the air and slammed into her cheek; her head flared to the side and her neck cracked.
"Shut up!"
He grabbed his gun, then fired a shot at her head, the bullet piercing its way through her skull. She could hear it as it went through the bones.
"You killed her," the lieutenant said.
Jetta's head hung down on her chest for a few seconds, then she pulled it back into place. The lieutenant shrieked and recoiled. The bullet hole in her forehead slowly grew back together, the blood vanishing, and the bullet fell to the floor, the sound of it hitting the tiles beneath was almost deafening.
Startled, both the general and the lieutenant pulled back, slowly moved towards the door, and left. She could hear them yelling on the other side, ordering the soldiers to put her back in her prison cell and make sure the damn door is loc
ked.
Chapter 70
They were fighting. She could hear them yelling at each other and it got louder and more vocal with every day that passed. Jetta could hear them very loudly as they discussed what to do with her.
"I say we kill her on the spot, sir," the lieutenant said. "Before she causes any more harm. This girl is dangerous."
"I might have another plan for her," the general said. "She's a weapon and if only we can find a way to use her, then we might be able to win this war."
"She'll end up killing us all," a third voice argued, one Jetta didn't have a face for.
"We can't kill her," the general said. "It's impossible. I shot her. I broke her neck. She didn't die. I’m telling you she is one of their robot soldiers, a clever one. I say we try and make her our weapon instead."
"We could turn her off," someone said. "If she is a robot, as you say. Then reprogram her."
"She's the devil if you ask me," the lieutenant said.
"Nonsense," the general said.
And so, the discussion continued for hours and even days and soon they grew weary and sick of each other, just as they did of the war and of not knowing how to end it.
Meanwhile, the soldiers keeping guard outside Jetta's cell soon started to argue as well, and Jetta listened to them as they disputed everything the other said. No matter if it was the war they debated or if they played cards and thought one of them cheated. They simply couldn't agree on anything. On the third day, it came to a fistfight that wasn't stopped until the lieutenant entered and split them apart.
"What are you doing? Don't you think we have enough fighting outside of these walls? Do you want to start fighting each other now too?"
The three soldiers who had fought excused themselves, then went back to their posts. But as soon as the lieutenant had left, the bickering continued.
"Take that back."
"No."
"I hate you."
And so, on and on it went, more and more bad blood, more and more insults that only flared up the arguments. Jetta was listening intently to it all, wondering what was going on.
When she heard the shot being fired and the thud of a body, she realized it was bad. She walked to the door and stared at it as she heard the sound of boots running, a guy yelling that He had it coming, it was his own fault, then more shots and more thuds, the sound of lifeless bodies falling to the ground, other voices yelling and loud screaming.
What's happening?
The door was then opened, and the lieutenant entered, blood on his shirt, a few drops splattered on his face. He pointed at her, his eyes flaming.
"I knew you were a curse. You did this to us. You made us turn on one another. It's all your doing, isn't it? It's all you, you…devil's offspring."
He raised his gun, hand shaking, and placed it on Jetta's forehead. She looked at him defiantly. People were still screaming outside, soldiers shooting at each other. The lieutenant was sweating heavily and panting, pressing the gun against her skin. They both knew he couldn't kill her by shooting her, not even slow her down for a few hours. More shots were fired in the distance as the soldiers killed one another.
"I told you to stay away from me," Jetta said. "For your own good. Now, you know."
She grabbed the gun by the barrel and removed it from her forehead, then walked out of the prison cell into the madness of the soldiers ripping each other apart.
Chapter 71
She found her mother at the cemetery. She was hovering above the ground, facing away from Jetta as she entered. Jetta left the bike, then walked up to her. Loviatar bent down and smiled.
"I knew you would come back."
"I know who I am now," Jetta said.
"Is that so?"
"Division," Jetta said. "That's my name, right?"
Loviatar nodded. "Jaettu. It's Finnish for Divided."
Jetta snorted. "I am the tenth disease. Wherever I go, people will fight. I am what is wrong with this world. The war, the hatred. It's all me, isn't it? It all began when I was born and just got worse and worse from there."
Loviatar sighed deeply, sounding pleased. "And never has anyone been as powerful as you. Look what you have given me."
Loviatar gestured for Jetta to look over the field ahead of them. An ocean of dead was waiting for her orders.
"Your army," Jetta said.
"More than three hundred million soldiers. All your doing. I have been gathering them, summoning them, as the war of races spread to the rest of the world, to Europe, and later Asia. All died while fighting each other over a cause no one even remembers what was about anymore. Now they are all mine and they will make me the most powerful of all the deities. With this army, we will once again rule this Earth. Every other deity will bow to us. Everyone bringing joy and happiness to people will be destroyed. All the people of the Earth will bow down to you. Darkness and death will once again rule."
"But…but that's not what I want," Jetta said. "That's what you want, not me. I never wanted any of this."
"It is your destiny."
"It doesn’t have to be," Jetta said. "I don't want to see more people die. I don't want to cause any more death."
Loviatar chuckled. "A death goddess who doesn't like death, how strange." She bent down and spoke in a whisper. Her voice sounded like the wind howling. "They are not like us, Jetta. Humans are stupid. Look at them fighting each other when they could be so strong if they stayed together and faced their real enemy. They don't deserve your love. Look what they do to you. Imprisonment? Trying to kill you whenever they get the chance. How long did you have to hide your face? You mean nothing to them. They think they're powerful, but they're nothing compared to us. All humans and all other gods will answer to me from now on. Starting with your father."
"My father? Why him?"
Loviatar reached up to her face, then pulled out her own eyes, showing a set of blind white eyes behind them.
"Because he took my eyes. Many years ago, we fought over you, as usual, and he took them. Told me I would never get to see you."
Jetta recoiled. "You can't see?"
"I have other senses that are much stronger."
Jetta scoffed. "That's why you said I was beautiful? You don't even know?"
"Know what?"
"That only half of me is like you. The other half is like my father. I am half black and half white."
Loviatar grunted, then grabbed Jetta by her face and touched her, feeling every bit of her face.
"I can't feel it. I can't feel the difference."
Jetta scoffed. "I guess it doesn’t matter. It's all me. Took me long enough to realize it, but that is who I am. I am not black with a white side, nor am I white with a black side. I am neither black nor white. I am both."
Chapter 72
"We ride with the wind," Loviatar said. "To find your father. Last thing I heard, he had retreated to West Africa. Come."
Loviatar had set her army in motion and they marched across the ground, causing the trees around them to shake. Then Loviatar blew a freezing wind that lifted the entire army up into the air and blew them towards the African continent, where they were put down outside a small village, the massive group of soldiers covering the entire land, as far as the eye could see.
Jetta followed her mother as the wind set them down in front of a small bar. Jetta felt fearful of her mother's crusade but just as much of seeing her father again because of what she had done. Since she turned her back on Oya, she didn't believe they wanted to see her again. How could they after all she had done? She wasn't sure she could face the two of them again. She felt embarrassed and shameful. Yet, she wanted to somehow stop her mother from hurting him. Only she didn't know how.
"SHANGO!"
Loviatar roared and knocked on the door to the bar. The knock rumbled through the small town and shook the walls of every house.
"SHANGO!!"
The door opened. A man peeked out. "We're closed," he said. “Come back at six."
&n
bsp; Loviatar growled, then pushed him aside and rushed past him, her leather jacket fluttering in the air behind her. Jetta was right on her tail.
"Where are you? I know you're in here somewhere, sleeping it off, Shango," Loviatar yelled.
They found him on the floor, a bottle of rum in his hand, sleeping, a blissful smile on his face. Loviatar kicked his leg.
"Wake up, you drunk."
Shango stretched, blinked his eyes, and sat up, still smiling from ear to ear. "What a night. So much dancing," he said and scratched his head, then looked around him till he found his drum and picked it up. Then he looked up and saw Loviatar.
Shango let out a scream, then pulled away.
"Get up," she said. "Meet me outside. We have unfinished business."
"I am not fighting you, if that's what you want," Shango said. He peeked outside and saw the massive army, then swallowed hard. "I gave that up many years ago when I realized it never led to anything good."
He spotted Jetta and winked.
"Hey, girl."
"Hey," she said, surprised that he didn't seem to be angry with her.
He looked like he remembered something, then searched around him. "I have something for you." He got up, went to the bar, and grabbed a drum just like the one he held himself, double-headed and shaped like an hourglass. He handed it to Jetta.
"I made it myself. It's yours."
Jetta looked at the drum, then smiled. It was gorgeous.
"Consider it a belated birthday present," Shango said, grinning. "For all of them that I missed."
"Thanks," Jetta said.
Loviatar growled. Her icy breath left a cloud in front of her when meeting the warm air.
"She doesn’t need anything from you," she said as she grabbed the drum and threw it into the back of the bar. "Now, be a man and come outside and fight."