by J. L. Smith
I spotted a stone statue of a nude girl up ahead, her hand modestly covering the gap between her thighs, a crown of flowers around her head accentuating her innocence. For a moment, I stopped, taken in by the peaceful look on her face. It was so at odds with that place of death. That was when I heard it, the faintest rustle coming from behind me. I turned just in time to see the butt of a gun coming down on me.
Chapter 21
I had moved at exactly the right moment. The butt end of the gun hit me squarely on my shoulder, instead of where it would have landed: the back of my head. Staggering from the impact and falling to my knees, I dropped my own gun, together with the knife which had been in my other hand, cursing as I instinctively placed both my hands on my shoulder in a vain attempt to ease the pain.
I heard a low laugh and looked up. It was Bea, standing right over me.
“Time to die, bitch,” she said, swinging her rifle at me again.
I managed to dodge the blow and then pure instinct kicked in. I pounced at her, taking advantage of the element of surprise. Instead of fear, all I felt was adrenaline rushing through my body, the animal defense of survival of the fittest. Terror was replaced by a clarity of thought which I had not imagined possible in such a situation. I knew she did not want to fire her gun, that she would only do so if she had no choice. Instead, she would try by whatever means to kill me silently, so as not to alert my friends to her presence. The last thing she needed was to have my allies show up and finish her off, even if she did manage to get the better of me and end my life. But, I also needed to remain quiet, if I possibly could. I did not need Balen showing up too. These thoughts came at me all at once, even while I went for her, swinging my fists and ignoring the piercing pain in my shoulder.
My remaining knife was tucked into the sole of my boot and I did not have time to retrieve it. My attack, however, had caught her off guard and I managed to get a punch into her gut, causing her to grunt to my satisfaction. She lashed out at me in return, trying to swing at me with her rifle once more. She was not quick enough. I used my elbow to knock the rifle aside and somehow she lost her grip, dropping the weapon to the ground. I kicked it where it landed and it flew behind her, out of reach for both of us.
Bea was like a she-cat, angry and hissing, her claws out. She slashed me across the cheek with her sharp nails and I winced from the pain. Returning the favor, I yanked her dark hair, kneeing her in the groin at the same time.
“Whore,” she ground out, almost falling to her knees.
I kicked out at her, but she jumped back just in time, and I stumbled forward. She got hold of my hair, taking me by my braid and jerking with all her might. I struggled out of her grip, my back now to her, but she kneed me in the lower back, causing me to buckle. Her arm came around my neck then and it was the first time I noticed how near to the edge of the balcony we were. I fought her like a wild animal then, elbowing her in the ribs and trying to kick my legs behind me, hitting her any way I could.
She was leading me towards the edge. There could only be one reason. The wall was not that high. She would get me over it. The fall would kill me. I thrashed out at her with all my strength, driving my elbows relentlessly into her ribcage. I heard her grunting, the sharp intake of breath as I landed a good blow. She retaliated, beating me in the face with her fist. But, her right arm was locked around my neck and so she could only use her weaker left hand.
We were at the wall of the balcony. I was leaning against it, Bea pushing me as hard and as far as she could. I twisted in panic, throwing my arms about violently and knocking her in the face.
“Die, you crazy bitch,” she muttered.
But, I would not. I refused for this to be my end. My strength beginning to flag, I did the last thing I could think to do. I shoved my head backwards with all the force I could muster, my skull knocking into her forehead, hard.
She cursed harshly, the grip she had around my neck loosening. I used the moment to my advantage, spinning around and ramming my fist into her jaw. I heard something break and I thought it might be her teeth. Blood dribbled from her mouth and she rammed me back, her fist connecting with my cheekbone. I shoved her and she fell against the balcony wall. One more hit. I needed one more big hit.
She tried to get up and stumbled to the side, straightening up again with what seemed to be the last of her energy. I launched myself at her, my fist smashing into the underside of her chin. It all happened in slow motion then. I watched, as if from above, as she faltered from the blow. I saw the blood still trickling from her mouth, the way she sucked in her lips in pain. She smashed into the brick wall behind her, her back slightly arched and taking the full impact of the fall. The stones gave way then, the old fortress not quite so impenetrable as it seemed. There were weak spots and I had found one. Half a dozen stones collapsed, letting gravity take them down to the ground once more.
And with them, Bea lost her balance too, her eyes going wide with the shock of it. I saw the precise moment when she realized that it was over, that she was going to die. Her arms and legs lashed out frantically, trying to pull at anything to save her. But, it was too late. She screamed as she went, the sound reaching up to me as I dared to peer over the edge, watching her land on the ground far below. She was dead on impact.
It was my first kill. I felt no triumph in it. Despite what I knew she had done, the look in her eyes just before she died, I was sure, would continue to haunt my dreams for a long, long time.
I bent over, placing my hands on my knees, heaving from both the exhaustion of our fight and the rising nausea at what had just happened. My hands were starting to shake, but I refused to give in to weakness. There would be time for shock, but this was not it.
I slapped both of my cheeks lightly and said sternly, “Pull yourself together, Aria. No time for hysterics.”
I traced the slash on my cheek from Bea’s nails, the swollen bits of flesh on the rest of my face, and the parts that felt like bruises. I could only imagine the damage done to the rest of my body. It would be black and blue.
“Hey,” I heard someone shout and jerked my head in the direction of the sound. “Stand down, asshole,” the person continued.
It was Saffron, somewhere to my left. I ran in the direction of her voice, one hundred, perhaps even two hundred yards through the busy garden. There was more shouting and I realized that my friends were joining her. They had to have found Balen.
I burst onto the scene, through what felt like a maze of thick vines and saw Saffron, her face a mask of control, her gun raised and ready to fire. Rayder was at her side already and, as I arrived, Kieran and Stef joined us too. And there he was, at last, at the very edge of the balcony. Positioned beside a statue of two nude women joined together at the hip, their eyes locked on each other, was Balen. Half hidden behind the statue, he stared back at Saffron with his hard, black eyes, one hand gripping the wall of the balcony. His gaze raked Saffron from head to toe, his brow furrowed, as if he was trying to place her face.
Saffron smiled then and it was a frightening smile, full of the promise of death. “Trying to figure out who I am?” She pulled the hat off her head, revealing her cropped, blonde hair. “Look a little different than when I was a kid.”
Balen’s eyes narrowed then, “So, the one that got away comes back at last.” His voice thick with bitterness, he added, “Good to see you, Saffron.”
“Maybe not quite your style anymore,” Saffron said, her voice clipped with anger. “Now that I’m an adult and all.”
Twisting his mouth into a hideous smile, Balen replied, “I always did like you young.”
“Sick son of a bitch,” Saffron spat out. “It’ll give me all the pleasure in the world to wipe that smug smile off your face.”
Balen shrugged, but there was anger in his eyes, “Can’t wash away the past, my dear.”
“Nope, but it sure as hell will feel good,” she shot back. “Just like the last few years have felt good.”
>
“So, this is your little bike gang,” Balen said, glaring at each of us in turn. His cold eyes landed on me, taking in the wounds on my face, “A cat fight for the pretty miss?”
“Yeah,” I shot back, “with Bea.” Balen raised his eyebrows and I wondered if there was something like fear in his eyes. Perhaps he did love her, in his warped way.
I felt Rayder’s gaze on me then, for the first time since I had arrived on the scene, and I glanced at him hastily, taking in the look of rage in his eyes. He was assessing my injuries, deciding how much I had been hurt.
“Bea always loves a good tussle,” Balen said, the innuendo nauseating.
“Well,” I spat out, “let’s just say I hope that cat knows how to land on her feet, because that was a long fall. Didn’t look like she was getting up any time soon from way up here.” Balen’s face fell then and I almost smiled.
Saffron did it for me. “Don’t worry, old man, she’ll be there to warm your bed in hell.” She laughed, tauntingly, “And speaking of old, you must be losing your touch. You should have guessed the minute we turned up with those actors all chained up that something was off.”
Balen’s face was briefly transformed by a look of pure fury, but he quickly tried to suppress it. “Girls are only good for one thing,” he snapped at her. “And since you’re no longer up for that, I’ll speak to your leader instead.” His eyes wandered to Rayder, “You, I take it.”
Rayder glared at him with a look of such disgust, I was not even sure he was going to bother with an answer. “Charlie Benson’s kid,” Rayder said. “In case you wanted to know.”
Balen laughed then, the sound ringing false, “Charlie, that coward who used to live down the valley with his family, who we slaughtered like pigs?”
Rayder’s face was nothing but hatred. “Saffron,” he glanced briefly at her, nodding, “why don’t you show Balen what else girls are good for?”
He was letting her have the kill. I had always imagined that, at this moment, it would be Rayder who would pull the trigger.
“Not so fast,” Balen said.
I had almost been waiting for it. It had just seemed too easy. There had to be a trump card. And there was. It came in the form of a broken blonde girl, her face and hair bloodied, her lips torn, her left eye puffy and black.
It was Susie, yanked out from behind the great statue, her mouth tightly gagged with a ripped piece of her clothing and Balen’s heavy arm wrapped around her neck. A gun was secured in the hand which had been hidden behind the statue and he used it now, as he put her on display, holding the barrel against her temple. Susie’s eyes were wide with fear, sweat making her hair sticky.
“I found one of your friends,” Balen said, the mirth evident in his tone.
As he spoke, Stef cried out Susie’s name, her voice thick with panic. She started to make a run for Susie, foolish in her desperation, but Kieran held her back. She fought him, but he would not release her, his arms locked around her waist. It was painful to watch the intensity of her fear and dread and I turned back to Susie instead, forcing myself to meet the terror in her blue eyes, a lump rising in my own throat as I did. She was visibly shaking, her hands, I only noticed now, bound tightly before her.
“I take it you want her back?” he mused, as if we were discussing the last piece of an apple pie up for grabs, rather than a human life. “I wasn’t sure she meant much, being the uglier sister.”
My brain almost could not make sense of what was before me: Susie, my witty and playful friend, reduced to this quivering, battered girl. I wanted to tear Balen’s eyes out and rip that self-satisfied smile from his face.
“What do you want?” Rayder asked, his tone cold as ice.
“Fifteen minutes,” Balen replied. “I’ll need to get down the stairway which that kid,” he tilted his head in Kieran’s direction, “was guarding. I’ll leave her at the back entrance to the fortress. Trust me, I’ll have no use for this cow after that. I hear even a footstep coming towards me before then, and I’ll shoot her in the head.”
There would be a vehicle waiting for him at the bottom, no doubt. He would have wanted to stay up on that balcony for longer, until the gunfire below ceased altogether, but we had forced his hand. Perhaps he would leave alone; perhaps there was already a guard who would be waiting.
“How can we trust that you’ll leave her there?” Rayder asked and I watched as Susie’s eyes darted in panic between her sister and Rayder.
Susie started to shake her head wildly, trying to speak over the gag. Balen laughed, the sound grating on my last nerve. “Don’t trust me, sweetheart?” He turned back to Rayder, “You don’t have much of a choice. You turn me down, I shoot her here and now.”
Susie was still attempting to speak, her eyes frantic as she tried to convey her meaning to Rayder.
“Okay,” Rayder said, just as Balen ripped the gag from Susie’s mouth. An angry, red mark was left across her face.
“No, Ray,” she cried. The furious look on Balen’s face told us he had expected her to beg, had obviously torn her gag off to add to the drama. “It has to end here. Now.”
And then it all seemed to happen at once. Susie wrenched herself violently away from Balen, her elbow digging into his side. He lost his grip around her neck and floundered for a second, the gun still in his right hand. I saw the exact moment when Susie’s eyes found Saffron’s, her expression clearly begging Saffron to get a clear shot. There was a gap between them now. Balen knew that he was vulnerable, that he was losing his advantage as his hostage forced him to act. He hesitated for only a moment and then two shots fired, almost at the same time.
Balen died immediately, Saffron’s bullet finding its mark and hitting him squarely in the chest. He lay slumped against the wall of the balcony, bright red blood seeping across his black vest. But, I barely noticed him at the time. It was only afterwards that I took it all in, when I had time to piece it together. At that moment, I could only see Susie, lying at the foot of the statue, blood pooling across her neck.
Stef rushed towards her, throwing herself across her twin sister’s body, as her own was wracked with sobs. “No, no, no, no,” she cried, the anguish so deep that I wanted to block my ears. Her hands sought the wound on Susie’s neck, trying in vain to staunch the flow of the blood. I could see, though, that there would be no helping Susie. “Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me. Please.”
I fell to my knees, watching them, wanting to comfort them, wanting to reassure Susie as the life left her eyes. But, there was nothing any of us could do. This was a moment for the two of them. It was what Susie would have wanted. Neal started to run towards them, tearing his shirt as he went, as if that might help Susie, but Kieran, who was standing just behind Stef, held him back, shaking his head.
Susie tried to talk then, but the sound came out garbled, blood oozing from her mouth. Hot tears streamed down my face and a sob escaped my throat, as Stef cried against her sister’s face, begging her to stay with us.
“I love you,” Stef cried. “I love you,” she repeated. “I love you.”
Stef must have said it a dozen times, the grief bubbling out from the depths of her. Kieran silently placed his hand on her shoulder and bent down to whisper in her ear. I did not hear what he said, but I saw Stef’s shoulders slump in defeat, just before she collapsed on Susie, sobbing. Kieran held her in his arms, and, while Stef was prostrate across Susie’s chest, I watched as he gently closed Susie’s lifeless eyes.
I felt a hand on my own shoulder then and looked up to see Rayder, his eyes tormented as he stared at Susie, as if he could not quite understand what he was seeing. He was shaking his head in disbelief and then he sat down beside me, burying his head in his hands. The tears ran hot and fast down my face, as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. A terrible silence descended over us all, with only the sound of Stef’s weeping and the odd distant shots of gunfire to interrupt the still gloom. None of us had any idea w
hat to say, any idea how to make it better. We sat like that for what seemed hours, but it could not have been terribly long. The afternoon light slowly started to make the shadows longer. From time to time, Kieran spoke to Stef where she lay beside Susie’s body, or one of us would say something quietly in her ear, as if that might alleviate some of her pain.
As suddenly as the silence came upon us, it snapped, just as Saffron did. With a shriek, she drove her boot into Balen’s face, making contact with his dead flesh over and over again, as she shouted obscenities at him.
Rayder got up to stop her, but she swung around at him and cried, “Don’t even think about it!”
He stepped back, placing his hands in the air in surrender and let her vent her rage on the dead man, before turning to the balcony wall and smashing it with her fist. She swore in pain, pulling her hand back to wrap it in the other and spun around towards us. There was something so raw in her grief, as she grappled with her anger. I almost wished it were me, slamming my fist into the wall. At least I would feel something, instead of this strange, stunned nothingness, where I could not seem to comprehend anything anymore.
“It’s my fault,” Saffron said, addressing Stef, who was watching her compassionately, quiet tears softening her face. “I should have shot Balen right away, before he even pulled Suse out. If I hadn’t had to,” her voice cracked, “if I didn’t have to gloat, maybe…” she trailed off.
Stef shook her head, still so kind, even in her darkest hour, “It’s not your fault, Saff.” She got up and went to Saffron, taking her hands and kissing her bruised knuckles. “What ifs won’t bring her back.” Her voice broke, “We all made the decision to come here. We knew the risk.” She tried to smile, “Suse would have told you to quit bringing all the drama with your one-man karate show.”
I smiled, fresh tears coming to my eyes and heard Saffron almost laugh.
“She was one hell of a girl,” Kieran said quietly, his eyes shining with fresh tears.