The Monster MASH

by Angie Fox

  “Sit down, Robichaud.” He rubbed his forehead.

  “Oh no. Do you want to talk about the prophecy?”

  He reared back in surprise. “Prophecy? What prophecy? I’ve been trying to make sure people don’t die. In the last month, we’ve seen the biggest increase in wounded that we’ve had in four hundred years.” He shook his head, resigned. “Now we’ve got something else.” He eyed me. “A special assignment.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I stared at Kosta, from his bald head to his wide palms down on the large metal desk. Bronze battle shields lined the wall behind him, like soldiers at the ready. He was a man used to getting his way, and unfortunately, I had a pretty good clue what he wanted.

  “I’m not special,” I said, in case he was getting any ideas.

  His eyes narrowed. “Not you, slick. The assignment. This one is coming straight from the wilds of Limbo.” He seemed amused at that or, more likely, energized by the challenge.

  The drawer at the front of his desk rumbled as he opened it to pull out a cigar. “We got a call in from an enemy MASH unit. They’ve got some of our soldiers—four critical casualties.” He flicked his eyes up. “They can’t treat them.”

  Wait. “They have to help our people. It’s in the Waset Convention.”

  The gods didn’t always obey it, just like armies didn’t always stick to the Geneva Convention back home, but I’d never expected this.

  Kosta didn’t offer an opinion. Either he didn’t have one, or he wasn’t sharing it with me. “They’ve been put under orders to neglect our wounded despite the conventions.” He dug a battered lighter out of his pant pocket. “That doesn’t sit right with their commander. He wants to get the injured out, but the situation is tense. We’re going against regs.” He stopped, his lighter forgotten. “He made us a highly unusual offer,” he said. “We can go get our soldiers.”

  It was never that easy. “There’s got to be a catch.”

  He pointed the Zippo at me. “Two doctors. No weapons.”

  I about choked. “Oh, well, that seems fair.”

  He lit his cigar and took a puff. The caustic smoke carried a hint of cherries. He glanced at me. “You’re going.”

  Holy heck. I was going to get thrust out of camp, just like I’d been forced to take the knife from Galen. It was like I had no free will.

  She will save lives and arrest the forces of the damned.

  My pulse pounded, and my palms began to sweat. There had to be a better way—one that didn’t involve me venturing out of camp, trying to dodge the giant scorpion assassins on my tail while trying to decide the best way to get a headlock on the forces of the damned.

  “You don’t understand,” I said as I stood, my chair skittering out behind me. I racked my brain to figure out something, anything to say that might change his mind. “I can’t go. I’ve never been outside camp.”

  Not that I was opposed to leaving. I’d been dying for some kind of field position that would take me to strange and exotic places, but meet-and-greets with enemy units didn’t count.

  Besides, I didn’t know if I could live up to the weapons ban. I had this knife I couldn’t seem to shake.

  Kosta stood with great deliberation, his features set in a snarl. “What I understand, soldier, is that we’ve got men who are dying out there. I don’t give a rat’s ass whether you want to go. This is your assignment, and you’re going to get your butt out there.”

  I stood frozen, numb. The prophecy said I was going to leave, and bang—I was on my way out.

  It didn’t matter if it was smart or right or if I was walking straight into an ambush.

  I’d been hacked off more times than I could count since I’d set foot in Limbo, but I’d never been this afraid.

  I tilted my chin up. “Yes, sir,” I said crisply. There was nothing else to do.

  He was asking me to drive an ambulance into hostile territory. Kosta hadn’t said as much, but I knew I’d be on my own if something happened out there.

  Kosta took the cigar out of his mouth, sympathetic. “Their commander is an old war buddy of mine,” he said, tapping it out onto a flat stone tray on his desk. “We go back to the Battle of Tanagra. Hell of a war,” he added, almost to himself. He cleared his throat. “He’s a good man. Sheer dumb luck he ended up on the other side. This deal is strictly off the books.”

  My voice felt dry. “So if I get captured?”

  He tilted his head. “I’ll have to tell them you wandered out of camp.”

  “Lovely.” I wasn’t even supposed to wander alone in camp.

  For the first time, I wondered if I should tell Kosta about the attempt on my life, the bronze knife, everything. Sure, the commander was as cuddly as a python, but he was also a practical leader. He’d faced off against the worst of this world, and the one above, for centuries.

  The knife weighed heavy in my pocket.

  Merde. What could Kosta do? Take back the prophecy?

  It didn’t even sound like he believed in it.

  I realized with a jolt that I was looking for some way, someone to take the burden. I wasn’t a soldier like Kosta or Galen. I was a doctor. I didn’t want to lead the charge. I didn’t want to go on clandestine assignments, or carry a weapon, or arrest forces of the damned.

  But as much as I wanted to take some of the load off, I knew this was my cross to bear.

  Kosta walked along the wall of orphaned battle shields. “The patients are stable for now. Meet-up is in two hours, and it’ll take you about that long to get there.” He stopped. “If this doesn’t go well, the mortal soldiers will die. The immortals will be imprisoned for eternity.” He shook his head. “Damn awful way to go.”

  I gave an involuntary shudder. Prisoners of war were held by the Shrouds, cursed creatures who fed on life, like parasites. They moved like silvery shadows, sucking the life and souls from humans and endlessly torturing immortals to the brink of death.

  His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. “Sorry, kid. I couldn’t send Marius on this. He needs to sleep during the day. Rodger is a loose cannon.”

  Rodger also had a wife and kids who needed him.

  He leveled his eyes at me. “Frankly, you’re the best we’ve got.”

  His confidence filled me with unexpected warmth. Maybe because I hadn’t gotten many “attagirls” in this godforsaken place.

  “I’ll take good care of them,” I said. This was the reason I got in to medicine in the first place.

  If this was what I had to do, I’d do it. Maybe there’d be four less empty shields in the world.

  Besides, walking away from these forces of the damned could also impact the prophecy. If I didn’t go, if I was the one who tried to influence the second prediction by refusing to go, well, I didn’t want to think of the consequences.

  “The camp is due south. Shirley can give you the map.”

  “Okay,” I said, thinking of what I needed to pack. “What am I going to find when I get there?”

  Kosta moved to the charts on his desk. “Two mortals with thoracic hemorrhaging, an immortal missing most of his lungs—”

  I found myself nodding. I was the only thoracic surgeon in camp. A fact the army seemed to remember from time to time. “Do we have a donor?”

  “We’ve got a pair coming in if you can get the patient back here alive.” He handed me four hastily written charts. “We also have an immortal in need of a complete arterial repair job.”

  Right up my alley. Until Galen, busted hearts were the only real cases I’d gotten.

  “It’ll be you and Dr. Thaïs.”

  Lovely. I’d been avoiding Thaïs since our locker room tête-à-tête when I’d found the knife. He had the personality of Yosemite Sam, only I couldn’t toss him down a cliff.

  Still, it made sense. Thaïs was an immortal. It would take a lot more than packs of wild imps or enemy soldiers or whatever came out of those hell vents to kill him. Too bad I wasn’t that lucky.

  I paused at the doo
r that led to Kosta’s outer office, clutching the charts.

  “The ambulance is packed and waiting outside. Shirley has the keys.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Good luck, Doctor.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Those soldiers are depending on you.” He gave me a squeeze. “I am, too.”

  “Thanks,” I said, unsure of what I was supposed to say. In fact, there wasn’t much else to do. I was ready—well, except for the knife in my pocket. And I knew exactly what I had to do with that.

  Thaïs was already waiting outside the door. Luckily Rodger wasn’t there, or he would have started whistling the Mr. Clean theme song. It always put Thaïs in a worse mood than usual.

  “Doctor,” he sneered as he passed. Only he could make it sound like a put-down.

  “Grime fighter,” I answered, just to tick him off.

  This was going to be a fun trip.

  Galen stood next to Shirley’s desk. She was back from the PNN party. “Hey.” I spotted a white doctor’s coat on her desk. “Can I borrow this?”

  “It’s Marius’s,” she warned.

  “He’s asleep,” I said, tossing it over the charts Kosta gave me.

  “What did the commander have to say?” Galen asked.

  “Come here.” We headed for the corner by the outside door.

  How to explain it…

  I glanced past his massive chest to Shirley. Of course she’d followed us. “Can we get some privacy?” Galen growled.

  In this camp? Ha.

  Then a thought occurred to me. “Hey, Shirley, before you go too far, can you get Jeffe in here?”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Sure. I live to please.”

  “I owe you about eighteen chocolate bars,” I offered. Which I’d never have.

  “You’re lucky I like you,” she said, picking up the microphone for the PA system.

  Galen gave me a questioning look.

  Will Jeffe the sphinx please report to Colonel Kosta’s office? Jeffe the sphinx.

  As if there were any other Jeffe.

  “Now we need our privacy,” Galen said, with a pointed look over my shoulder at Shirley.

  “And here I thought this was my office,” she said, cigarette in hand as she strolled past us, banging the door closed behind her.

  Who knew how much time we had? I dug in my pocket for the wrapped-up knife. “I need you to take this,” I said to Galen before he could quiz me any more about what had happened with Kosta.

  He drew back as I pressed the bundle into his hand, but I knew he wouldn’t let it fall. “Petra,” he said, his voice full of warning, “it doesn’t work that way.”

  “I’m hoping it does.” At least this once. I needed to catch a break.

  His eyes narrowed.

  Well, tough. I didn’t like this, either. But I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t going to be responsible for the deaths of two soldiers and the eternal imprisonment of two others.

  “I’ve agreed to go on a little field trip for Kosta. Two doctors. No weapons. Thaïs is in there right now getting our orders.”

  “You can’t leave camp without me,” he said as if it was the craziest idea in the world. “It’s not safe.”

  “Believe me, I know.” I liked my skin as much as Galen did—probably more. But this was the right thing to do. “We’ve got a situation.” I explained to him about the wounded. And the Shrouds. “I can’t risk these soldiers’ lives just so I can carry a weapon I don’t know how to use.”

  Galen didn’t get that. “What’s there to know?” he thundered. “You hold it and stab.”

  I hated to break it to him, but… “I’m no hero. I’m not even sure I can kill.” Frankly, I thought the whole concept was ludicrous.

  Besides, my knife and I would be no match for the long swords the enemy guards tended to carry. Not to mention the soul-sucking Shrouds. They didn’t need weapons. They just wrapped their filmy gray bodies around you, and you were finished.

  Galen wasn’t happy. Yeah, well, neither was I. “I have to go,” I told him. I was a doctor. “You of all people should understand duty.”

  A muscle in his jaw tightened.

  There was no way I was going to take a weapon. He had to see that. “I don’t want to tick these people off.” Kosta might be a bullheaded old Spartan, but I trusted him. If he said we’d be okay with no weapons, two doctors, I had to accept that. I wasn’t about to screw up the plan.

  Galen’s expression went raw. For the first time since I’d met him, he didn’t know what to do. I don’t know which one of us that scared more.

  He closed his eyes tight. “How are you going to arrest the forces of the damned when you’re unarmed?”

  I touched him. “How would I do it anyway?” His muscles were tight, ready to unleash their power, only we had no enemy to fight.

  His eyes opened to slits. “All right. If this is how the fates have arranged it, then I’m coming along.”

  Jeffe eased through the doorway behind Galen.

  He glanced back at the sphinx before bringing his full attention back to me.

  I touched his arm. “I don’t want you following.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Too bad.”

  I shook my head, already feeling regret. “My orders are clear. Two doctors. No weapons.”

  The side of his mouth turned up. “They didn’t say anything about demigods.”

  I had a feeling it was implied.

  Then again, this was Galen. “I’ve got to protect you,” he insisted.

  “You’re going to get me exposed, and you’re going to get me killed.” I had to trust Colonel Kosta on this one. “Any trying you do is going to influence the prophecy, and I can’t let that happen.”

  His expression hardened. “I won’t leave you out there alone.” To him, it was absurd. Just like he wouldn’t leave me in the middle of a freeway during rush hour, he wasn’t about to let me do this on my own.

  He left me with no choice. “Jeffe,” I said, “arrest him.”

  The sphinx leapt forward. “Gotcha, boss!”

  Galen snorted, not taking his eyes off me. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  Jeffe whipped out his claws like a cat and jammed them into Galen’s leg.

  Galen stood his ground. “Jeffe,” he said through gritted teeth, “you’re making a big mistake.”

  Galen’s eyes widened slightly. His expression was still set in a snarl as he tipped straight forward. I caught him, barely, bracing myself as his full weight came tumbling down.

  He almost took me with him as I eased him to the floor. “Thanks for the help,” I gasped.

  “No problem,” Jeffe said, standing next to me, watching as I struggled out from under Galen. I rolled him over onto his back.

  “What did you give him?” I asked, slightly out of breath, staring at the zonked demigod next to me.

  Galen was out.

  Jeffe shook out his mane. “I gave him the Egyptian treatment. Did you know that it takes the average sphinx only one point two seconds to knock down prey? Your Galen is strong.”

  “He’s not my Galen.”

  Jeffe leaned over Galen’s splayed body. “He still looks mad.”

  He sure did. But I couldn’t have him following me. “How long until he wakes up?”

  “At least three days. Sometimes five or six. It takes that long. Usually, I’d have to start devouring him now, and that can take a while. I am not big. Did you know it takes the average sphinx twenty minutes to devour a small squirrel? I prefer rabbits, myself. But do not worry. I like Galen. I won’t eat him.”

  “Thanks, Jeffe.” I hated to have Galen out of the picture that long, but at least this was going my way.

  Galen took up a good portion of the area in front of Shirley’s desk. “Will you call a few orderlies to get him back into his tent?”

  “Right-o, boss,” Jeffe said cheerfully.

  I scratched my neck, uncomfortable. “I’m not really your boss.”

>   “Yes, you are,” Jeffe said, his long hair swooshing around his shoulders. “It is in the handbook.”

  I had to find my copy one of these days.

  The door to Kosta’s office burst open, and Thaïs stormed, “Are you ready to go?”

  I grabbed the medical charts off Shirley’s desk. “I was waiting for you,” I answered, wincing as he stepped over Galen.

  Shirley was outside, cigarette in hand. I would have told her that was bad for her if her kind could get cancer.

  Smoke trailed out of her nose. “Can I go back in my office now?”

  “Yes,” I said, juggling my charts. “Sorry about that.”

  She wasn’t impressed. “You owe me one.”

  “Also, about Galen. He’s laid out on your floor.”

  She took one last drag. “Never mind. We’re even.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  True to his word, Kosta had an ambulance parked outside. It was rusty red, same as the Limbo landscape, with the ankh—an ancient symbol for life—blazoned on the sides. The ankh was painted gold and resembled a cross with a loop at the top.

  I wore the same symbol on the sleeve of my field jacket. It was painted on the roofs of our medical tents. It was our version of the Red Cross, really.

  Thaïs walked ahead of me, with his trademark limp.

  Not bothering to look back, he swung open the heavy metal door and climbed into the driver’s seat. What a male move.

  I trudged around the front, toward the passenger side. It was just as well. I hadn’t driven a car since I parked my bright blue Mustang at my dad’s house before leaving.

  My heart squeezed a fraction.

  It didn’t do any good to think about it.

  “Button up your field jacket,” Thaïs barked as I stepped up into the modified truck. “You’re a disgrace to the uniform.”

  I slid onto the vinyl seat and stashed Marius’s white coat and the charts on the dash. “I’m a doctor, not a soldier.”

  “Obviously,” he grumbled.