The Monster MASH

by Angie Fox

  Galen held it, his lips pursed together as if in prayer. Then he slowly raised it to the level of his heart and removed the stopper from the jar.

  I forgot to breathe as a thin blue cloud of smoke wisped from the opening. The temperature of the room plunged. Goose bumps raced up my arms as the cloud unfurled around Galen, sending his collar ruffling, whispering through his hair, calling out to him with a thousand ghostly voices.

  My heart ached for him as he held on, brave and still.

  Bit by bit I saw silver flecks in the cloud, like dew caught in a spider’s web. I realized with a start that it was his immortal essence. They drew it out of him until it hovered, suspended and naked in front of us.

  We watched as it was sucked up by the bottle until Galen stood before us, mortal.

  For a moment, no one moved.

  “On the desk,” Kosta said.

  Galen placed the jar on the edge.

  With a crackle, the jar caught fire. Heart pounding, I was ready to jump in, to put it out. But Kosta stood stoic, wiping the sweat from his brow. Galen waited in silence, letting it burn. And so I did, too.

  I watched it grow into a bright blue flame.

  The letter caught fire as well, burning gold.

  Within minutes, they were both consumed, leaving nothing on Kosta’s desk—not even ashes.

  Kosta cleared his throat. “They know you’ve accepted your fate. You have to go now. There’s a jeep waiting outside.”

  Galen nodded and drew me in for a long embrace. I held on tight.

  “Are you sure they really changed you?” I asked.

  He held me close. “Yes,” he said against my hair.

  “Let’s go. Now,” Kosta said.

  Together we walked outside to the waiting jeep.

  Dawn was breaking as Kosta gave Galen a final salute. “It’s been an honor to know you, Commander. Fight well.”

  He returned the salute. “I will, sir.”

  Galen turned to me. With regret and determination in his eyes, he kissed me on the forehead, the cheek, the chin. I reached up and gave him one last long, aching kiss before he pulled away. “Goodbye.” He gave me a small faltering smile.

  “Goodbye,” I choked. “ I love you.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear,” he said.

  And then I watched him depart for the mouth of Hades.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I walked back to my hutch, empty and aching with the hopelessness of it. I’d done everything. I’d accepted fate. I’d braved the Shrouds. I’d given Galen my heart. I’d let him go.

  Would it be enough?

  I didn’t know anymore.

  How many times had I faced this in my career? The wrung-out knowledge that I’d done my best and it still wasn’t enough? I’d given everything, and still the armies marched.

  Rodger leaned over his footlocker as I banged into our hutch. “What are you doing here?” I grumbled. He should be watching PNN with the rest of the masses.

  Rodger gave me the kind of look people usually reserve for funerals. “I was just hanging out with Shirley, trying to get a message to my wife.”

  “I didn’t see you.”

  “You walked right past.” He closed the lid. “I figured you and Galen needed some privacy,” he said, sitting down on my cot. “And that you might want some company now.”

  I joined him. “I don’t know what to do.”

  He swallowed hard and nodded. “There’s nothing more we can do.”

  That part hurt worst of all.

  We sat for a moment, no words coming. I watched the tar bubbling up in the swamp beyond Rodger’s window.

  “What did you want to tell Mary Ann?” I asked. It was almost impossible to get any messages out, except by letter, and that could take weeks.

  Rodger wiped his eyes. “Earlsfield is on a fault line, or near one anyway. They’ve said for years that London is overdue for a quake. I told her to pack up the kids. Now. And take them to her sister’s in Chillingham.”

  I rested my elbows on my knees. “Did she get the message?”

  He stared blankly ahead. “I think so.” He dropped his head. “I don’t know.”

  The world had gone to hell, and all we could do was stare at tar. “Do you want to go see what’s happening on PNN?”

  He caught my eye. “Do you?”

  Now that he mentioned it, I wasn’t sure.

  “Rodger!” Holly, the charge nurse, pounded on the door. She opened it before we could bother to tell her to come in. “You’ve got to take these.” She backed in through the door, holding a box of squeaking, wriggling swamp creatures.

  “Rodger!” Had he been giving them out to the whole camp?

  Rodger leapt up to take the box. “I told you to separate the boys from the girls.”

  “They’re babies,” Holly protested. “What are babies doing having babies?”

  “I don’t know,” Rodger said, nudging an escapee back into the box.

  “Which is why they need to go back into the swamp,” I told him.

  He shook his head. “I tried it. They climb back out. See for yourself.”

  The three of us went outside to the edge of the swamp. “Now watch,” Rodger said as if he were some kind of high school science teacher. He turned the box on its side and nudged at least twenty little scaly monsters back into the tar.

  They’d barely gotten their feet wet before they glopped right back out, squeaking and trying to climb Rodger’s legs. “They think I’m their mother.”

  I took in the situation, trying to comprehend. “How many are there?” He’d had six, which had probably turned into sixty, and then Holly brought hers. Add that to the two I saw Horace carrying around…

  “Don’t we have bigger problems?” Rodger asked, in the shameless diversion of the year.

  Unfortunately, he was right.

  Rodger’s footlocker was already packed with a throng of sea creatures, so I lent him mine. He set a water bowl down into it as I cleared out my clothes and snagged three pennies from the bottom. We didn’t want the babies to choke.

  “I suppose we can leave the lids open,” Rodger mused as a handful of the relocated sea serpents immediately went to sit in their water bowl.

  “As long as they stay in the hutch,” I ordered, already knowing we were doomed.

  Marius was going to have a fit when he came back from his lair.

  Afterward, Rodger walked with me as we made our way to the mess tent. We hadn’t talked about it or decided to go, we just knew we should. I didn’t say as much, but I was glad to have my friend with me.

  There were fewer people inside now that the oracle had been read. We ignored a pitiful-looking donut display and found spots on the floor near the front.

  Stone McKay glared down from the screen. “The old god armies are advancing on the Mountain of Flames. The new gods have dug in as they attempt to thwart the attack. Still, by all estimates, they are outgunned and outnumbered. The best they can hope to do is to delay the inevitable.”

  PNN cut to footage of a vast army clad in tan. “When will the new god army break out their doomsday weapon?”

  They showed the most massive hell vent I’d ever seen. A volcano thrust from the top of it, spitting chunks of heated rock and debris. The steam cut through the desert air, and as the helicopter flew over and panned down, I saw nothing but blackness and lava.

  “So that’s Galen’s objective.” Rodger whistled under his breath.

  All I could do was nod.

  He’d never survive. Not as a mortal.

  A giant boom sounded from the mountain, like one of those jaw-rattling Fourth of July fireworks I used to hate as a kid.

  “Is it beginning?” Stone demanded. “Where did that explosion come from?”

  The camera jerked and panned over the volcano, down the mountain. The old army had almost made it to the hell vent. The new army was dug in right in front. This was it.

  I forgot to breathe as the old army attacked
. The new army opened up in a volley of artillery fire. It tore into the lines of tan soldiers, but they kept coming. They surged, wave upon wave, like a living mass of death and destruction.

  Old army cannons shot volley after volley onto the Mountain of Flame. The impacts sent showers of rock down into the hell vent and left superheated purple fires burning on the volcano.

  The two fronts collided, cannons exploded, and the camera zoomed as warriors fought in hand-to-hand combat to the death. The wounded were crushed under the advance of the old army.

  “I can’t believe they’re showing this on TV,” I said, horrified.

  The ranks of the new army began to falter and break.

  I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I owed it to Galen to witness this, to watch.

  Purple fires raged on the mountain as the new army fell back. “Holy hell,” Rodger whistled.

  Shouts went up among the troops. “Wait.” I clutched the edges of the table. The old army had stopped. “What are they going to do?”

  Dragons zoomed overhead, and I half expected an aerial attack to wipe out our side in one deadly, fiery moment.

  Rodger pounded me on the arm. “They’re falling back.”

  “No, they’re not,” I barked. The old army had no reason to retreat. Except that they were backing away. “What?”

  A shout went up among the troops. A battle cry? But they didn’t charge.

  “What in Hades is going on?” I demanded, throat tight.

  Rodger simply stared at the television.

  They cut to a very confused Stone McKay. He held a parchment with raised red lettering. “We interrupt this, ahem, war to bring you a bulletin.” He pulled out his reading glasses and consulted the parchment. “The old gods are calling an immediate cease-fire”—his voice rose in wonder—“in order to meet with the new gods over a more important matter.”

  “More important?” I choked. I wanted to fall over with disbelief and elation and fear and sheer exhaustion and about a hundred other emotions I couldn’t begin to name.

  A murmuring went up from the crowd around us. I’d almost forgotten they were there.

  “What? I don’t get it,” Rodger said.

  Neither did I. “Wait,” I said.

  We watched as Stone accepted a rolled parchment. He slipped a nervous finger under the seal, and it broke apart with a hiss. “Another highly unusual development,” he uttered, trying to fill dead air.

  “The gods always could get a letter out,” Rodger said, almost to himself.

  After seeing the one they’d sent to Galen, I had to agree.

  Stone’s eyes flicked over the missive. “Cavillace, virgin goddess of fear, patron of the old god army, has”—the newscaster’s eyes grew wide—“joined with Dagr, god of hope and fertility. The resulting pregnancy scandal makes it imperative for the gods to call an immediate cease-fire to discuss this matter.”

  I grabbed Rodger. “We have peace?” Is that what they meant? It couldn’t be what they meant. It couldn’t be that easy.

  “Hey, that’s the patient you saved from the Shrouds,” Rodger said as photos of the two lovers went up on the screen.

  Yes! There was the Ricky Schroder look-alike, along with a photo of a raven-haired goddess.

  “Dagr escaped,” I said, trying to put it together myself as I spoke. “I thought he was going back to the front.”

  “Instead, he was off banging his girlfriend.” Rodger grinned. “The virgin.”

  “Not anymore.” I couldn’t believe it. Sheer amazement and euphoria collided until my head swam with it. Who would have thought fear would get together with hope and bring peace?

  “The gods are going to be ticked,” Rodger said. Nobody screwed with the order of things.

  “Let ’em,” I said, grinning for the first time in I didn’t know how long. We did it. We actually did it.

  We had a cease-fire.

  Stone’s voice spoke over the video. “All forces are being pulled back, including members of the Green Hawk, Gold Scepter, and Red Dragon Special Forces teams called to the scene.”

  “That’s Galen,” I said, grabbing Rodger’s arm way too tight.

  “It looks that way,” he said, letting me shake him up and down a little. I couldn’t help it. It was just too much.

  “You can see them coming down the mountain,” the anchorman said as an aerial shot showed a line of troops weaving down the volcano, staying clear of the impact zones.

  Galen was alive. He had to be. Oh my goodness. I couldn’t believe we’d done it. He’d made it. I wanted to cry with the sheer relief of it.

  PNN showed the armies as they began to back down. The helicopter flew over the volcano once more, and I found myself leaning forward, trying to peer inside. As if that would work.

  I couldn’t wait to see Galen again. To hug him and tell him how much I loved him. We did it. He’d survived. And even if I couldn’t see him right away, even if he had to rejoin his unit, just to know he’d lived through this—it was more than I could have ever imagined.

  The corners of my eyes crowded with tears. I was wiping them away when the mountain exploded, sending a massive shock wave of purple fire searing down into the hell vent.

  A reporter screamed. The armies braced against the impact. I sat in shock.

  The Mountain of Flames broke apart. Fiery rock tumbled down into the hell vent, splashing down into the lava. Onlookers cried out in horror as the entire mountain crumbled and was consumed into the depths of Hades.

  At that moment, I knew Galen was dead.

  “I don’t believe it,” Stone announced. “One of the most feared hell vents is…gone.”

  Gone.

  I sat stunned as the crowd cheered around me.

  I didn’t have the emotion to move or to cry or to beat my fists and scream at the injustice of it all. Demand that they mourn for the soldier who gave his immortal life and soul so that they could carry on, alive and whole.

  It was done. I’d chosen this.

  It was the sacrifice I’d made, the deal Galen had accepted.

  I just couldn’t believe it was over.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rodger stood next to me. “You don’t know he’s dead.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” I said, sliding off the table. I’d seen his unit trailing down the mountain. I’d watched it crumble into hell. “I’ve got to get out of here,” I said, fighting my way through the jubilant crowd.

  “You don’t know anything for sure,” Rodger called, following me.

  “How can you say that?” I demanded. It was cruel. “We watched it happen.”

  I banged out of the mess tent. The suns were high, and the desert heat beat down. Nothing changed in the MASH 3063rd.

  Cursed army.

  “Look at what just happened,” Rodger said as we left the crowds behind. “There’s peace. There’s hope again. It must have taken a miracle to make that happen.” He jogged next to me.

  “A miracle?” I choked out a laugh.

  “Have some faith. He could have made it out.”

  “This had nothing to do with a miracle. And it wasn’t about faith, either. It was about minute decisions. It was about the small things.”

  Rodger squinched his face in confusion. “Okay. Sure. Whatever you say.”

  We walked for a moment. I toyed with the idea of stopping in Galen’s tent, but it was empty. Galen was gone.

  “I can explain,” I told him. I had to tell somebody. I desperately needed to understand it myself. “But you’re sworn to secrecy on this.”

  Rodger shrugged. “Who would believe me?”

  Good point.

  “It was about the prophecies,” I said. “The first one came true when I saved Galen’s life and got that bronze dagger.”

  A healer whose hands can touch the dead will receive a bronze dagger.

  Rodger’s brows knit. “You can’t see the dead.”

  My heart skipped. “Not literally,” I lied. “But we’ve al
l seen war dead.”

  He nodded.

  “You saw the dagger,” I said, trudging a foot in front of him, purposely moving on from the topic.

  “Saw it. Tossed it,” he said, letting it go. “Okay, what about the second one? With the dagger, she will save lives and arrest the forces of the damned?”

  I dug my hands into my pockets, almost missing the feel of the knife. “I saved Galen’s life, so he was there to help stop the Shrouds and save Dagr’s life.”

  Rodger caught up to me, eyes wide. “It’s what made the second prophecy come true.”

  “And set up the third.” It all fit. I could see it now.

  Rodger glanced at the recovery tent as we passed. “So, the third one said, the lifesaver will fall in love.” He looked back to me. “You got that one down. The gooey eyes said it all.”

  His face fell as he recalled the second half. After, she will find new peace as he finds death. “Oh, man. I’m sorry, Petra.”

  Me too.

  “Galen found me before he left. Kosta raised the alert, and Dagr escaped in the confusion.”

  “You’re the reason the god got out?”

  “If I hadn’t delayed Galen long enough to tell him I loved him…among other things.” Rodger could connect the dots. But if I hadn’t taken that moment to show Galen how I really felt, Dagr might not have escaped.

  “And him shagging the virgin put a stop to all this.”

  “It did.” Holy heck, if I hadn’t fulfilled the second prophecy, Dagr would be dead. It wasn’t about magic or mysticism. Well, maybe with the knife. But not with the rest.

  It was about decisions, the details I took for granted that could change fate—that could change the world.

  Rodger seemed to be thinking the same thing. He stopped in front of the OR. “Little pebbles start avalanches.”

  I hadn’t known I was doing it. I couldn’t have chosen how events unfolded. I really had gone on faith. It was both humbling and terrifying. What would have happened if I’d lost Galen, like I’d lost Spiros? What if the Shrouds had taken us that night? They’d come so close. What if I’d refused to follow Galen through the dark, refused to admit my feelings and be vulnerable and instead insisted we return to camp right away?