The Monster MASH

by Angie Fox

  I glanced at my roommate as we made it back to the hutch. Cases and cases of condoms were stacked on both sides of the door.

  “You couldn’t put them out back?”

  “They’re heavy.”

  And he was wrung out from his one-man party last night—not that he’d admit it now. He didn’t have to. Rodger didn’t bother to take off his shoes before he fell face-first into bed.

  I figured it would take me a while to settle down, but it was the last thought I had until morning.

  Sunlight stung my eyes as I woke to a chorus of swamp creatures squeaking. It sounded like way more than a dozen.

  Hades. I didn’t want to know. I buried my head in my pillow, hoping they’d go away already, when I realized that the morning was awfully bright.

  I grabbed my watch.

  “Ten o’clock?” I shot up in bed, squinting against the suns. “Where are my shoes? I was due at rounds by eight.”

  Rodger’s cot protested as he rolled over. “That’s why Horace was banging on the door.” He threw an arm over his eyes. “I gave him a little dinosaur and he went away.”

  Another one? I grabbed my sneakers and plopped down on Marius’s footlocker to drag them on. “You’ve got to stop giving out swamp creatures. They’re breeding.”

  “I’ve got it under control,” Rodger said, rubbing his arms as he sat up.

  Where had I heard that before?

  I stood up. “Rog, seriously. Do you have it under control?”

  He yawned. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Merde. One more fiasco I couldn’t control. I planted a sneaker on the footlocker and tied the laces. “Tell them to keep their little monster parts to themselves.”

  Rodger grinned, his auburn hair sticking out at impossible angles. “Thanks for the condoms, by the way.”

  “I figured they’d make good water balloons.”

  “Or finger puppets.”

  “Off to work,” I said, grabbing my stethoscope.

  “Have fun, dear,” Rodger called after me. “Good luck.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, tossing a pillow at his head on the way out. I was going to need all the luck I could get.

  “Well, look who decided to show up,” Holly drawled as I banged into the recovery tent, two hours late.

  “I was on call last night,” I said, grabbing a few Starburst from her candy bowl.

  “Ah, the old plague-of-locusts excuse. Your two friends from the motor pool were talking about it at breakfast this morning,” she said, clacking through patient-release charts. “I found half a dozen of the little buggers in my left boot this morning.”

  “Crunchy?”

  “Extra crispy.” She handed me a clipboard packed with rare pink forms. “Here’s your hold on Commander Galen of Delphi.”

  I stiffened. “What makes you think I’m coming in here just for him?”

  She raised her brows. “He’s your only patient in recovery.”

  Right. I took the chart. “It’s been a crazy week,” I said by way of explanation.

  “Technically, he’s not even yours,” she said. “Captain Thaïs did his final exam. He’s clear for release…or wherever he’s going.”

  “Kosta wants him in the visiting officers’ quarters.”

  “You don’t say.” Holly leaned her chin on her knuckles, interest sparking her eyes. “Nice digs. And he’s certainly easy on the eyes.”

  “Don’t you dare think about it.”

  “Why?” she drawled.

  “I’m not being possessive if that’s what you think.”

  Holly winked at me and straightened in her chair.

  Why was she looking so flirty? “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “Hello, Doctor,” Galen said behind me. I turned around, figuring I’d be prepared for the sight. I wasn’t.

  Holly whistled. “Hello yourself.”

  Galen stood in his combat fatigues, feet set wide, shoulders squared. He wore the black of the special forces, with a Ken rune etched in red on his left shoulder. It was the symbol of heat, action, and heroism. It was the mark of a warrior. A gold commander’s star glinted on his collar.

  Oh my. No wonder I’d been having trouble ordering him around.

  Galen looked like he could charge about a dozen giant scorpions, uphill, and not even break a sweat.

  He glanced at Holly. “At least somebody likes having me here.”

  My body warmed, and I felt a flush creep up to my cheeks. “She doesn’t know what you’re capable of.”

  He leaned in close enough to touch. “Neither do you.”

  Was he trying to give me a heart attack?

  Technically, I was supposed to plant him in a wheelchair until he left the hospital, but I wasn’t going through that again.

  “Follow me,” I said, not bothering to see if he did. I had to calm down. I wasn’t some simpering female. I was a trained medical professional.

  A brisk walk would be just the thing.

  All I had to do was show Galen to his tent and then hope he never came out again.

  The sky was blue as we stalked across the courtyard. The high-level tents were next to the hospital and administrative offices. You had Kosta, the head nurse, and now Galen—our newest VIP.

  Black dragons swooped over a rocky outpost in the distance. Scouts, no doubt, gathering intelligence before battle. We’d be seeing wounded soon.

  “I know why you’re so worked up,” Galen said, falling into pace next to me.

  Heavens. I hoped not, because I couldn’t handle that right now.

  “You’re mad because I’m right,” he said.

  Of all the… The man was too cocky for his own good.

  I stared him right in the baby blues. The uncertainty fled, replaced by hot indignation. Angry I could do. I had a PhD in pissed off. “You think Kosta giving you a cushy tent makes you right?”

  He didn’t bat an eyelash. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  “For the moment.” Until I could figure out what to do about the dearly departed Dr. Freierrmuth.

  We reached the plain red tent next to the VIP showers. Galen’s new quarters were at least three times as big as my hutch. I always wondered why the bigwigs stayed in tents instead of hutches with doors.

  No matter. My job was almost done.

  “Here you are,” I said. I flung open the flaps to the tent and gasped.

  I didn’t know what I’d expected. Probably something like Father McArio’s private hutch—all business and no frills. This was like a scene out of Arabian Nights.

  Plush pillows and low couches scattered across the main room. Ornate copper and glass lamps hung from the bright blue ceiling. And what was that gurgling I heard?

  I strained my neck to the left and felt my mouth drop open. “You have a fountain.”

  He leaned in past me. “Look at that. Let’s check it out.”

  “No.” I didn’t belong in there. Nobody did.

  Besides, I was angry. Wasn’t I? I swear this man could ruin a good rant before I even got started.

  Galen stood close behind me. I could feel the heat of his body on my back, but I was rooted to the spot. This place was temptation on a platter. Good thing I wasn’t used to getting what I wanted.

  “Go,” he said, nudging me onto the plush carpet floor. Sweet puppies. Carpet. I hadn’t seen carpet since I left home.

  And the fountain… The entire thing was done in mosaics. It was a riot of color. Mermaids spilled water from orange and yellow shells into the glistening pool. It was difficult to imagine such a thing could exist in the flat, red wastelands of Limbo. I ran my fingers over the tiles. I dipped them into the pool, letting the water lap against my skin.

  “Look at this kitchen,” Galen said from the back of the room. He slid back a clouded glass door to reveal a mosaic countertop and modern stainless-steel appliances.

  My heart gave a flutter. “What’s in the fridge?”

  He opened it with a flourish to reveal
food. Real food. Like milk and cheese and eggs and, “Blueberries,” I whispered. I hadn’t had a blueberry in seven years.

  I’d never seen Galen so amused. “Come and get ’em.”

  He didn’t have to ask me twice. “Maybe I should rethink this friendship of ours.” There was a lot I could tolerate in the name of fresh fruit.

  “You cook?” he asked, holding out a little wicker basket of blueberries.

  “Used to.” I popped one into my mouth and groaned at the burst of sweet flavor.

  I grabbed a handful and sank down on the rich carpeted floor, enjoying them one at a time.

  “We have an entire quart,” he said, inspecting one.

  I didn’t bother answering. The blueberries deserved to be savored.

  The carpet underneath me was plush, woven in an intricate pattern of golds and greens. Yellow paper lanterns hung above the counter.

  That was when it hit me. There wasn’t a trace of red in the place.

  Galen groaned. My first thought was that he was injured, but then I saw him with one hand propped up against the counter, the other fisting a bunch of purple grapes.

  “Long time, sailor?”

  “You have no idea,” he said, sinking down next to me.

  “I should warn you that if you eat too much fruit after having no fruit, that could be bad.”

  “Spoken like a true medical professional.”

  We both ignored my advice and relished every minute of it.

  “There’s a note on the fridge,” he said when we’d worked our way through almost all of it. “Food deliveries come every day.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  He snorted. “Demigods don’t get married. We kill and destroy.”

  “You also hoard grapes,” I said.

  He had his eyes closed. I leaned my head back against the kitchen island. He’d been serious. I couldn’t let it pass. Not this time. “I know you’re not like that, Galen.”

  “Not always, no.” He sat perfectly still. “My mom had a vineyard out back. She used to let me cut grapes with her. Well, she’d cut; I’d run and explore. I used to like to sneak up on her from between the trellises.”

  “Covert even back then.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” He grinned.

  “Come on,” I said, “let’s go see if you have a bowling alley hidden somewhere in here.”

  I opened the flaps to the next room and found a step-down bath big enough for several people. It was filled with warm, bubbling clay.

  “Ohh…mud bath!” I’d seen these in spa magazines.

  Galen didn’t look so eager. “I think I’d prefer a bowling alley.”

  “Are you kidding?” I said, walking around the massive tub. “This is probably world-class mud.”

  He stopped a few feet short. “I’ve been fighting in the mud for hundreds of years.”

  “You’d enjoy this,” I said, dipping a hand into the bath. The warm mud comforted me like a hug. “I’d like to sink down naked into this.”

  His lips quirked. “Now, there’s an idea.”

  I looked at him from under lowered lashes. What would it be like to slather this man in mud?

  More than I could handle, that’s for sure. I cleaned off on one of the softest towels I’d ever felt. Dear lord, was there anything in this place that wasn’t drop-dead amazing?

  My eye caught a pair of deep gold curtains. “I wonder what’s back there.”

  I ripped open the curtain and found myself staring at the largest bed I’d ever seen.

  His bed.

  I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be here anymore.

  Sweet heaven, it was draped with sumptuous coverings. It was nothing like my single sleeper with the scratchy wool blanket.

  This thing was massive, both luxurious and elegant. This wasn’t the bed of a soldier. It was the bed of a god.

  I could feel him behind me. His fingers whispered along my scalp as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Want to try it out?”

  “Not in a million years.” I’d never been good at flirting, and I knew better than to push Galen.

  “It’s okay,” he said against my ear. “Touch it.”

  Yeah, right. “Are we still talking about the bed?”

  He chuckled behind me. “Yes.”

  “Okay, then,” I said, leaving the doorway. Maybe this one time. Only to see what it felt like. I ran my hand over the sumptuous silk, fleece, and mohair wool coverings. I groaned despite myself.

  Galen laughed, bracing his hands on either side of the doorway. “It’s only a bed.”

  “You are so wrong,” I said, enjoying his amusement, sinking down onto the bed, taking what I wanted before I could think about it too much.

  My heart skipped a few beats as I lay on the softest mattress known to man. I’d never felt anything like it. Not before I’d been dumped into Limbo, certainly not since.

  The bed shifted as Galen lay next to me. He exhaled slowly as he felt the bliss that was this mattress. “I thought the hospital beds were good.”

  “You’re kidding.” I’d lowered my voice without thinking about it.

  He stretched out next to me in those drool-worthy black combat fatigues. “I usually sleep outside on the ground.”

  My heart thudded in my chest. This might not be the best idea, being here with him.

  I could get up and go.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t try anything,” he murmured next to me.

  Disappointment tugged at me, which didn’t make sense at all.

  “You’re not ready for it,” he stated as if it were fact. As if I had to do something simply because I was in a sumptuous bed in the middle of the desert, with Galen the demigod.

  I even had forty-eight thousand condoms at my disposal.

  Naturally, they were on full display outside my hutch.

  Deciding to trust him, I kicked off my shoes.

  He turned his head to look at me. “It’s fate,” he insisted. “Us finding a place to retreat and talk.” He grinned. “This is the universe telling us we’re on the right track.”

  What? “No,” I said, sitting up on my elbows, “we’re just enjoying a break. We’re here because Colonel Kosta needed to put you somewhere. Nothing more.”

  The disappointment showed on his face. “You still don’t believe we’re part of something bigger here. That there’s a plan behind this.”

  “Other than the one to turn me into a raging nymphomaniac? No.”

  “What is it with you?” he asked, the bed shifting as he sat up. “Why don’t you want peace?”

  I sat up, too. “Oh, all of a sudden I don’t want peace?” Unbelievable.

  He was the hardened killing machine. I crossed my arms over my chest. “I want this war to end.” I always would. “But not by forcing it. Not your way.”

  “Why?” he demanded.

  “I could ask you the same thing. Why does it have to be your way? Your show? You may be a god, but you’re certainly not perfect. I know this may come as a shock, but you don’t have all the answers.”

  He was as surprised as if I’d smacked him. “And you do?”

  “No one does,” I said, my voice kicking up a notch.

  This was such a mess.

  He’d suffered. He’d lost. I wished I had a way out for him, or at least a way to make him understand. I tried to get a grip, calm down. “Look, I can’t take the risk. Okay?”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” he thundered.

  It wasn’t like I was going to spill my guts with him giving me that attitude—or at all.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” he demanded as I launched myself off the bed. “I think I deserve to know why you’re so adamant about this.” He followed as I located my shoes. “Why the hell are you leaving?”

  I turned, slipping on my sneakers. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I owed you my life story.”

  “Do you want to calm down and talk to me about this?”

 
His placating tone ticked me off. “So now you’re the reasonable one?” I asked, fighting through the yellow curtains.

  He made a sound that was half snarl, half utter exasperation as he followed me through the living room. “I’m going to be on you until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Yeah, right. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Remember you said that,” he called as I stalked out of the tent.

  Chapter Twelve

  Argh. He was the most frustrating man I’d ever met. I wanted to kiss him one minute and bash him over the head the next.

  What I needed was chocolate. The Post Exchange was always out.

  I had to get my head on straight, focus on something else. I cruised through post-op to see if they needed any help, but of course they had it handled. So I headed back to my hutch.

  My bunk squeaked as I flopped down and reached for the shoebox on my nightstand. It was my snack box, and today it held Fruit Stripe gum and three packets of saltine crackers from the mess tent. Yum.

  The soft bubbling from the tar swamp next door wasn’t as comforting as it usually was. Today it just smelled. I unwrapped a stick of grape and popped it in my mouth. It was stale and left my mouth feeling dry and dusty.

  I hoped he was sad he messed up.

  Not that I was thinking of Galen. Because I wasn’t.

  I unzipped the screened window over my roommates’ cluttered shelf and tossed the nasty gum into the swamp.

  Good riddance. I didn’t need Galen or his massive bed. And once Rodger took down his laundry, I’d even be able to walk across our tiny hovel without getting hit in the head by surgical scrubs and Star Trek T-shirts. I mean, who really needs more than one?

  My hutch might not be as plush as Galen’s, but it was mine. I bunched a pillow behind me. It used to be lumpy. Now it was flat from overuse. Official new army regulations said I had three more years to go before the next pillow reissue. Ten years, one pillow. That seemed reasonable.

  I dug around on my nightstand and pulled on a pair of sunglasses. The suns were especially bright this afternoon. That was probably why there weren’t too many people out walking or stopping by.

  Galen could rot in that big tent by himself.