The Monster MASH

by Angie Fox

  “Marc would be proud of you.”

  It cut me deep to hear someone else say his name. “I know,” I said, digging through my dresser drawer. I’d put him to rest. Marc was my past. Galen could very well be my future.

  “I like Galen,” Rodger said. “He’s good for you.”

  He was. “This is the first time I’ve been happy since Marc.” Despite the war and the prophecies and everything else.

  “So what’s going on?” Rodger asked.

  He was sitting back in his cot, the folded letter on his chest.

  “I think I’m falling for him,” I admitted.

  “I think you already did,” Rodger pointed out.

  “Yeah,” I said, brushing my hair. It was quite possible I’d been the last one to figure that out.

  Being with Galen last night, talking about Marc this morning had freed something inside me.

  It had let loose the kind of hope I hadn’t felt in a long time. “I feel like I have a shot at this, whatever it is between Galen and me.” If we could only make it past this next hurdle. I lowered the brush. “Let me ask you this, Rodger. Do you believe people are sent into your life?”

  He nodded. “I do. Everything happens for a reason.”

  Strange. “I’d never really believed that until now.” Now I wanted it to be that way. I craved it on a fundamental level.

  “You about ready?” Rodger asked.

  “Sure,” I said, slicking my damp hair back into a ponytail.

  I couldn’t shake the thought as Rodger and I made our way to start our shifts in recovery. Galen was here, with me, for reasons I was only beginning to understand. Together, we could have a real shot at peace—and something more.

  It stayed with me as I made my rounds, this sense of peace, the idea that for the first time in a long time, I had a true partner.

  Our shift was busy. Most beds were full, and thank heaven the new army hadn’t yet seen fit to start taking injured back to the front. I prayed it would never happen.

  I spent most of my time on a griffin bite and subsequent infection to the spine, as well as a particularly tricky bowel resection. Immortals healed wrong from time to time. I hated to go back in. It was surgery without anesthesia. Once was bad enough.

  The first patient we’d saved while on special assignment was doing well. Sleeping. I replaced his chart and headed off to see the other in intensive care.

  The ICU was located between the OR and the recovery unit. I pushed my way through the double doors to the semicircle of curtained patient rooms.

  I could tell which one held my guy from the pair of cyclops guarding the entrance.

  “Dr. Petra Robichaud,” I said, fishing for the ID on my white coat. I was glad I hadn’t forgotten it this morning. ID seemed kind of redundant when I had my name sewed on my coat. And when everybody knew me. But orders were orders, and I knew they were playing this one by the book.

  They moved aside and I entered the room of Dagr, god of hope and fertility and probably a few other things Kosta hadn’t seen fit to mention.

  He lay on his back, strapped to beeping heart monitors and an IV bag administering the anti-inflammatory drugs we gave for long-term exposure to parasitic entities. Injured, he would have experienced an acute reaction to the Shrouds. If the bodies of the gods overcompensated for the energy drain, it could put them into shock.

  Dagr was pale, but his breathing looked good. Dang. He reminded me of a young Ricky Schroder. I took the chart from the end of his bed. His oxygen counts were still low, but that was to be expected.

  “Hi, Doc,” he murmured.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked, moving to the side of the bed so he could see me better.

  “Fine.”

  “You look good,” I told him. And he did. Given the proper treatment, the gods healed fast.

  I had a feeling we’d be hiding him here until it was time to let him leave. Although I had to think that the double guard outside the kid’s room was giving away the secret.

  “I just want to fight,” he said, clearly miserable. “They’re afraid to let me do anything.”

  “Sounds like you showed them,” I said. His wound could have easily been deadly if we hadn’t reached him in time.

  He watched me. “I told her I’d be a hero.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “My girlfriend.”

  “Ahh…now, that’s something worth fighting for.”

  “Anybody can be a god.” He sighed. “It’s harder to be a hero.”

  “To be counted among the stars.” And I wasn’t kidding. The gods made their stars into stars. Look at Hercules. “That’s a lofty goal.”

  He shifted in bed, facing me as best he could. “Give me your honest opinion. As a girl. Would that impress you?”

  “As a girl, yes. As a doctor”—I stood—“why don’t you try to be a little more careful next time?”

  He folded his hands over his chest. “You doctors are all alike.”

  “I wish,” I said as I replaced his chart and headed out.

  My shift was over, and I had a hero of my own to see for as long as I had him.

  I glanced back at the cyclops guards as I left, feeling a tug of sympathy for the young god and his dreams of war and glory. It was immature in a way—and crazy dangerous. But I could imagine how hard it would be to want to be a soldier, to be trained and given the uniform, only to be told that you couldn’t actually go to war with your friends.

  Shaking my head, I ducked outside. At least we had one more kid off the battlefield. He’d survive this war, even if the rest of us didn’t.

  The twin suns were setting with a rosy glow.

  Attention all personnel. Attention. Shirley’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker. As you know, Colonel Kosta has forbidden us to make any official announcements about the prophecy. Therefore, I will not tell you that PNN says the oracles are coming out of the mountain right now.

  People began emerging from the tents and buildings around me.

  I repeat. There is nothing to see—unless you want to go down to the mess tent.

  I shared a glance with a nurse across the way. Holy heck. I began jogging with the crowd.

  This was it. Our final assignment. I only hoped I could handle it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Galen stood outside the mess tent. “I saw you heading this way.”

  My heart gave a squeeze. How long had it been since someone had waited for me to get off work?

  He treated me to a long hug and a lingering kiss that had me gripping the lapels of his fatigues and tempted to give the busybodies in camp a real show.

  “I like this,” he murmured, caressing a thumb over my jawline.

  “Me too,” I admitted.

  “You ready to go in?”

  “Heck yes.” After that, I was ready for just about anything.

  The mess tent was even more crowded than before. There was a line six people deep to get inside, the buzz of voices reminding me of an overstuffed beehive.

  Once we’d made it through the door, we jostled through the crowds lingering between the long tables.

  There were all kinds of people parked on the tables as well. Others had pulled most of the metal folding chairs up to the front. Still more created a mass of bodies on the floor in front of the television. The serving area that had held snacks the last time was filled with people. Horace and some of the winged orderlies hovered along the sides.

  Everybody who wasn’t on shift was here. Well, except for Kosta. Excitement flowed through the mass of onlookers like an electric current.

  “Turn it up!” hollered someone in the back.

  A nurse jumped up and twisted the big round volume knob. Stone McKay’s voice blared over the crowd. “…along with updates from the front…”

  “Turn it down!” everyone yelled as he adjusted it lower.

  The overly tanned newscaster was as cheerful as a game-show host. “Remember, you can follow the oracle excitement on our b
log at www.PNN-Network.com. We’ll have the latest news and developments, livestreaming video, and the Ask an Oracle quiz show, where you can submit your questions to our own PNN soothsayers. It’s all at PNN-Network.com.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “Quiz show?” Didn’t they understand what was happening here?

  Galen took my hand. “Come on.”

  The crowd made way for him. I liked to think it was because he held an air of command, but I also saw how most of the women gave him a second look. And sometimes a third. I couldn’t help but smile. Yes, this man was with me—and every single one of them knew it.

  We found seats by Shirley near the front. People were passing king-sized bowls of popcorn.

  A banner scrolled along the bottom of the television screen. Breaking news: twelve vampires dead after falling asleep at outdoor oracle watch party.

  “How’d you get off?” I asked, sliding in next to Shirley on the table.

  “Kosta is throwing a duck fit.” She grinned, tying back her hair in a colorful bandanna. “He wanted me out of his sight.”

  “You don’t seem too bothered by it,” Galen commented, making himself comfortable on the other side of me.

  Shirley shrugged. “You’ve got to push a man’s buttons every once in a while.” She grinned. “It used to be Kosta didn’t notice me. Now he watches me. And he really reacted today.”

  “No kidding?” I’d never been good at intrigue or the games that went on between men and women. But, hey, I was all for having a plan. I hoped this one worked out for her. At least she’d gotten the night off.

  The PNN screen was now shared by three guest soothsayers. “Tell me,” Stone’s voice sounded as each guest was shown in his or her own little on-screen box. “What are the oracles doing inside the mountain right now?”

  “They’re drinking the energy,” said a man in an orange turban. “It’s spiritual.”

  “No,” snapped a blonde woman. “Inside the mountain is a riot of color and light.”

  “You’re both wrong,” a man in a plaid bow tie interrupted. “They will sleep until it is time to—”

  The woman frowned. “How can you say they’re sleeping when we hear them wailing?”

  Plaid-bow-tie man snarled. “Back in 1232—”

  But the woman was already talking over him. “We know from reports that they see colors and—”

  “Can I talk? Can I talk?” demanded the man.

  She raised her voice. “Colors and light and—”

  “It’s a peaceful, spiritual awakening,” the turbaned man yelled.

  “We know from history—” Plaid bow tie joined the fray.

  Oy. This was why I’d avoided the Sunday-morning news shows back home. Glad to see some things never changed.

  People at the front started throwing popcorn at the screen.

  I braced a hand behind me as the din grew louder. “You know I started off as a journalism major.”

  “You never would have made it,” Shirley said, eating popcorn.

  “Thanks for that,” I said as she went back to talking to the woman next to her.

  At least I’d still be topside.

  Doing what, though? Blissfully going about my life, most likely. There was a certain freedom in ignorance.

  Dang it all. I hated to think it, but given the choice, I’d rather be down here. At least I was living with my eyes open. And maybe I could change things.

  The screen broke over to Stone McKay, who wore a grave expression for the camera. “We’re going to have to interrupt our discussion for some breaking news from the front.”

  Oh no.

  Galen took my hand and I held on tight. “We’ve got this.”

  I squeezed his hand.

  Together.

  A square-jawed reporter with perfect hair and three-hundred-dollar sunglasses grimaced as explosions sounded behind him. He stood in a state-of-the-art flak jacket, fresh out of the box, as soldiers wearing old army tan marched behind him. “Chip Dobson here in the ninth quadrant where the old god army is advancing on the new god army stronghold of Hades Gate, also known as the Mountain of Flames.”

  This was it. I felt my heart speed up.

  “The new army has held this territory for the last fifteen hundred and twenty-three years. They are firmly entrenched, but from what I’m seeing here, Stone, the new army is outnumbered by about two to one. This is the first time we’ve seen this large an imbalance in the armies.”

  He paused as screeching winged dragons flew overhead. “I tried to speak with representatives from the old army, but they’ve all refused the opportunity to speak on camera. I have been told by multiple sources on condition of anonymity that the old army plans to take the stronghold within the next twenty-four hours.”

  I about choked. “Twenty-four hours?”

  Grim, Galen didn’t take his eyes off the reporter. “Wait.”

  “Did they say how they plan to take the stronghold, Chip?” Stone asked as if the old army had pulled out their strategy documents and offered to share.

  Cripes. This was ridiculous. We had a day to fix this, Galen was cut off from any classified information he could have gotten from his unit, and we were counting on PNN for the intelligence we needed to save countless souls.

  The reporter held on to his earpiece. “We don’t know details, but I can tell you that I’ve never seen a troop amassment like this. It’s obvious that they have been planning this for some time and that the Mountain of Flames must be a key objective for them.”

  I barked out a laugh. Key in that it would get us all damned. Gods. I wanted to jump up, run, do something.

  Galen planted a hand on my shoulder, steadying me. “Patience.” I puzzled at the utter confidence in his voice. “We have to see how this unfolds.”

  “But—”

  “We can’t go running off until we have a firm objective.”

  We didn’t have time for that. We didn’t have time for anything. “You heard what they said. Twenty-four hours.”

  His jaw ticked. “I’ve pulled off the impossible in less time than that. I’m betting you have, too.”

  Nothing of this magnitude. I saved lives, not entire populations of people.

  Stone McKay stared into the camera, as serious as the grave. “More on the front as soon as we have it.”

  A PNN news graphic spun up onto the screen. “Stay tuned to learn Five Things in Your Lair That Can Kill You. Why the prophecy could mean impending death. And a funny little story about a kitty caught in a tin can. That’s up next—on PNN.”

  Wait. “What?” Now the prophecy could mean death? We were counting on this thing to save us.

  It was probably just the newscasters overdramatizing everything.

  I took a deep breath, then another, watching my mortal colleagues as they murmured to themselves. The fear in the room was palpable. No doubt they worried about their families back home, how the imbalance of the armies would impact the people they’d left behind. Little did they know, worse was coming.

  “Popcorn?” Shirley asked as a bowl made it over our way.

  “I can’t eat,” I said, waving it off.

  “See? Stress makes me eat,” she said, taking an extra-big handful.

  Me too. Usually. Although nothing was ordinary about today.

  I glanced at Galen, who seemed deep in thought. Dang, he was handsome. His stark cheekbones were complemented by a strong jaw that worked as he thought. I sure hoped he was hatching a way to get us out of this.

  Stone McKay was back. “And now: Five Things in Your Lair That Can Kill You. But first, let’s check in with BeeBee Connor, who is standing by live at the Oracle of the Gods.”

  Perky BeeBee wore a fire-engine-red jacket over a leopard-print top and seemed thrilled to be hovering at the bottom of a sheer cliff face. Above her was the gaping hole in the rock that held the cave of the oracles.

  She leaned forward, like she was telling the audience a big secret. “I’m BeeBee Connor reporting live from the
Oracle of the Gods, where my sources tell me the soothsaying session has indeed concluded. The oracles are now drinking from the pond of wisdom before they emerge to tell us their findings.”

  “Thanks, BeeBee,” Stone said. “Now, how long between the drinking from the pond and the announcement of the oracle?”

  “It could be days,” BeeBee responded, delighted.

  My throat grew dry. We didn’t have days. We had twenty-four hours.

  BeeBee continued to lean forward, displaying copious amounts of cleavage. “The lava has really been boiling here at Mount Lemuria, which is another good sign that this prophecy will be a biggie.”

  My head pounded. “Then let’s get on with it,” I ground out. I wanted to scream.

  “Now, aren’t the armies afraid that a third prophecy so soon could force a cease-fire?” Stone asked.

  Dirt and debris rained around BeeBee as the mountain behind her shook. “It is true that we’re well on our way to a forced peace. Some here think that’s why the old army has moved so quickly to initiate major combat. If there’s any peace to be had, they want to end up on top before it happens. It’s up to the oracle now, though, Stone. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  My nerves tangled. Wait and see. While mortals suffered and died.

  “I hate to interrupt you, BeeBee,” Stone said, clearly relishing it, “but we have breaking news from the new army.”

  They panned to a live shot of a two-star general dressed in rusty red combat fatigues. He had a regal bearing and a steady gaze. The general moved to stand behind a podium, holding a sheaf of papers.

  Galen leaned closer. “That’s General Howzer.”

  “Do we like him?”

  “He’s a good soldier.”

  For the immortals. I could read between the lines. “So he might not have good news.”

  Cameras flashed as the general began his announcement. “The new army is announcing today that we have a secret weapon.”

  Confused murmurs erupted from the news corps.

  The truth of it hit me. They were calling up the gods of the underworld, which meant the new army was about to sell our souls straight to hell.

  Howzer glanced up. “The old army is fully aware of the capabilities of this weapon. And we will not hesitate to use this weapon if they do not draw down their assault on the Mountain of Flames.”