Rebel Page 9

  She shivered, frowning. As usual, thinking about cocaine was getting her nowhere. The sooner she started singing, the sooner she could get the hell out of this frozen wasteland.

  "If you wanna be my lover," she sang quietly. She knew it was lame, but she couldn't help herself. It would have to do. "You gotta get with my friends--"

  Suddenly she felt a presence behind her.

  "Gaia?"

  She looked behind her--nothing. Mary glanced toward where Gaia stood at the edge of the park. Her

  friend was there, hugging herself and shivering but also grinning from ear to ear.

  At least one of them wasn't completely paranoid, Mary thought. She turned back toward the empty park.

  "Uh, friendship lasts forever ..."

  A finger tapped her on the shoulder. Mary smiled. Gaia had finally realized this was cruel and unusual punishment.

  She took a bow toward the empty square, but as she stood up to turn, she noticed she could still see Gaia way over at the edge of the park, fiddling with her coat buttons.

  Mary opened her mouth to scream Gaia's name, but it only came out in a whisper.

  GAIA DIDN'T SEE THE SHADOWY MALE form creeping up on Mary until it was right behind her. She was concentrating too hard to hear whatever the hell it was that Mary was singing. Jesus. Where had he come from? She was trained to spot people in the night.

  Him

  She sucked in her breath and bolted across the street, hurtling the low park fence in one fluid motion. Whoever he was, he must have been hiding. Waiting. And whoever he was, he was large. Fat, almost. And familiar ...

  Shit. There it was. The beard. Even with his back to her, she could see a tangle of greasy hairs flapping in the wind. She broke into a sprint.

  It was him.

  "I ... I ... ," MARY SPUTTERED IN HORROR. She couldn't move. Her teeth stopped chattering; her body stopped trembling. Her limbs were too tense, frozen solid. For all her fear and worry, she just hadn't truly believed Skizz would be here. It was just too obvious, somehow--too predictable. Like walking into a trap. A trap laid expressly for her. Life wasn't that simple.

  Panic

  "Who's Gay-uh?"

  Mary could only shake her head. Skizz looked even more foul than she'd remembered. His skin was blotchy, covered with scabs. His beady eyes bore down on her from within the fat folds of his face. And the wispy ends of his beard spread in every direction. Instinctively her eyes flashed to his hands. Both were jammed into the pockets of his down jacket. Oh God. Something besides his hand was also stuffed in the right pocket. Something pointy.

  "I'm asking you a question," he growled.

  "Sh-She ... she's nobody," Mary stuttered, unable to tear her eyes from the pocket.

  "Look at me," he barked.

  She flinched. Her eyes darted to his face.

  All at once he smiled--revealing an uneven row of yellow teeth. "I'm sorry, baby," he murmured. "I'm being rude. It's none of my business. So let's just take care of our business, and I'll be on my way. Then you can go back to your little birthday celebration."

  Mary opened her mouth, but panic had robbed her of speech.

  Skizz looked up for a moment, glancing furtively in either direction down the darkened path. He withdrew his right hand from the coat. Clutched in his chubby fingers was a small, shiny pistol--no bigger than a toy, a water gun. It glittered in the cold light of the park lamps.

  A last gasp of air escaped Mary's lungs. She couldn't breathe anymore.

  "Now, I'm assuming you came here to pay me back," he whispered. He laughed humorlessly. "There ain't no other reason a rich girl like you would come out in this cold. Gotta be drugs or money. So let's see the cash. All of it."

  But I don't have it, she answered silently. I swear--

  He cocked the pistol. "Now."

  THE INSTANT GAIA SAW THE GLINT OF metal, her pace doubled. She was barely conscious of the ground flying under her feet. Her mind was totally focused on the figure of the drug dealer, hunched over the back of the bench where Mary sat.

  Rage

  Time slowed to a crawl.

  Gaia was sick with rage. It was her fault that Mary was in danger. Her fault that Mary might get killed. She had pushed Mary into this situation--back into the world Mary had left behind, and now she might die because of it. Never before had Gaia felt such anger. And all of it was directed at herself. If he pulled that trigger ...

  But no. She wouldn't allow it. She was almost upon him. Her muscles tensed. She knew exactly how she was going to strike: a flying sidekick to the back that would send him flipping over the bench.

  Her legs pumped to a fever pitch--then lifted from the ground, slowly and gracefully, like the retraction of a plane's landing gear after takeoff. For a wondrous instant she was airborne. She thrust out her right leg, straightening so that the side of her foot would connect....

  Now.

  "AAAH!"

  Mary heard Skizz's bloodcurdling scream at the exact same moment she realized he was no longer standing behind her; he was flying over her.

  Rescue

  She threw her hands over her head and cringed, watching in terror as he tumbled through the air and landed flat on his back. The gun clattered away from him into the shadows.

  And then she saw Gaia--gracefully somersaulting across the pavement.

  Warmth surged through Mary's body. She should have known Gaia would come to her rescue. Gaia would teach Skizz about trying to collect on a debt from a recovering addict. It was ass-kicking time. And not a moment too soon.

  GAIA CROUCHED OVER THE DRUG DEALER'S body in the most basic kung fu stance-- legs bent, arms up, right hand poised above the left. Her breathing was slow and even. The electric fizz tingled in her veins the way it always did before combat, but there was something different tonight.

  Trick

  She was oddly calm.

  Her rage hadn't subsided. Yet it gave her an edge. Almost as if she were watching the events unfold from a distance ... watching as this fat, middle-aged piece of shit staggered to his feet. How could she have been so stupid? She'd forgotten the rules of combat she'd had pounded into her head since she could remember. Always be ready. Always be alert. Instead she'd been reckless and self-indulgent, using her skills for petty pranks and leading her friend into a deadly trap.

  All those years of her father's painstaking training were going to waste.

  All those afternoons spent in their backyard--repeating kick after kick, block after block.... She was supposed to be disciplined. A machine. She'd allowed her dear father's education to slip away. She'd lost the very thing that had turned her into a monster. Yes. There was no denying it. She'd become sloppy in her teenage years.

  Well, not tonight. Her heart pounded. Oh, no. It was time to make Daddy proud again.

  She smiled at the drug dealer.

  He straightened, wincing--clutching his back. Suddenly he froze. His eyes narrowed. "You," he spat. "You're that bitch."

  "That's right," Gaia murmured. "I'm that bitch."

  He lunged forward, swinging with his right hand.

  Gaia almost laughed. He'd telegraphed that punch

  so blatantly that she didn't even need to block it. She simply ducked out of the way, sidestepping him. The force of his own effort sent him staggering across the pavement.

  He whirled around. His eyes smoldered.

  He was breathing heavily, filling the air with white vapor. "You just better pray you don't get hurt," he hissed. "You don't know who you're messin' with."

  I think I do, Gaia thought. But she kept silent. Talking during a fight was a distraction. Besides, silence instilled fear in an opponent. Not that she needed any advantages over him. He was scared enough. With good reason. He had no idea what was coming.

  "Careful, Gaia," Mary murmured from the bench. "There's a gun on the ground."

  The drug dealer grinned.

  Oh, please. Did he really think Gaia was that stupid? Obviously he didn't know where the
gun was. Otherwise he'd be looking at it.

  Again he jumped forward and threw his right fist at her face.

  How original, Gaia thought. There was no need to block this punch, either--but she wasn't interested in toying with him any longer. She shifted to the left and grabbed his wrist in midair, simultaneously kicking his right shin. It was classic kung fu. One of her patent moves. The force of his own punch in combination with the kick sent him flying off balance. But she didn't let go of his hand. Instead she twisted it, holding him in place--supporting almost all his weight. She grunted. Damn, he was heavy.

  They were face-to-face.

  Gaia grimaced. She could smell his rancid breath. Still, she savored the moment. By now he'd guessed that he couldn't possibly defeat her.

  She let go of him. He nearly fell.

  In the split second that he fought to regain his balance, she decided to switch from kung fu to karate. With an almost clinical detachment she chose to end this boring fight with a technique straight out of the Go Rin No Sho. A trick.

  She raised her right fist.

  He stared at it, backing off slightly.

  She struck with her left.

  The hand whistled audibly as it sliced through the frozen air toward his neck.

  Contact. All of her years of training went into that strike--straight to the pressure point. She felt his collarbone shatter, heard the soft cracking sounds. It felt like gravel under the soft layer of his blubbery flesh.

  "Uhh!" he gurgled.

  He sank to his knees. His eyes were wide in shock. His mouth fell open. He gaped up at her, shaking his head. But she felt no pity. He deserved this--for torturing Mary when she was trying to get clean, for hooking

  others on drugs, for making the world a sadder and more desperate place. They all deserved this ... everyone who caused suffering, everyone who profited from other people's misery.

  "Gaia?"

  Mary's voice drifted out of the night. But it was as if Gaia heard it in a dream. Time slowed again; there was no future, no past--only a continuous present in which she needed to finish her opponent. That, too, was a lesson from the Go Rin No Sho. She could recite the lines word for word. She could almost see the page in front of her as she drew back her left leg: "Strike with the left side, with the spirit resolved, until the enemy is dead...."

  The drug dealer lifted one hand, using the other one to clutch his ruined shoulder. "No," he wheezed. His lungs labored heavily. "Please, stop--"

  Her leg lashed out in a powerful kick. The tip of her toe connected just under his chin. Blood splattered from his mouth. But amazingly enough, he didn't cry out. He made absolutely no sound. His body hung in midair, with his head thrown back, eyes staring at the sky--then he collapsed backward, hitting the pavement with a sticky smack.

  "Gaia!" Mary shrieked.

  Gaia stared down at him. The drug dealer's eyes were closed now. He lay perfectly still.

  "What are you doing?" Mary's voice rose. "Stop it! Stop it!"

  Gaia turned to answer her friend--but at that moment the ground beneath her seemed to open up and swallow her whole.

  TWO DEAD BODIES. TWO.

  That's what I'm dealing with.

  Nightmare

  Mary sat on the bench, still unable to move. Her eyes flashed from one crumpled form to the other. Time to rewind. She couldn't understand what had just happened. Gaia suddenly went into psycho kung fu mode, and then ... what? Both she and Skizz looked like ghosts. They were bone white. Skizz's blood glistened in black puddles on the pavement. His mouth was open. Several teeth were missing. Neither he nor Gaia seemed to be breathing. Mary knew she was breathing because her breath was quite visible--exploding from her nostrils in a rapid, dog-like rhythm. She was practically hyperventilating--

  There!

  A faint, grayish puff drifted from Skizz's unmoving lips.

  Mary held her breath.

  A few seconds later there was another puff. Then another. Skizz groaned.

  Okay. Mary swallowed. He isn't dead. This is good. Very good. Fatally injured, maybe--but not dead. Not yet, anyway. That left Gaia....

  Mary jumped up and crouched beside her. She couldn't panic. No. The last time Gaia had beat up Skizz, she had also keeled over--for no apparent reason. Mary had thought that Gaia was on coke, actually. At the time it seemed like the only reasonable explanation for her inexplicable behavior.

  Of course, that beating had been a slap on the wrist compared to this.

  But maybe Gaia's passing out was some kind of physical problem. Like an allergic reaction or something. Yeah. The harder Gaia pounded on somebody, the worse she suffered. And now Mary remembered that Gaia had avoided the subject of that first collapse--

  "Oh, man," Gaia mumbled.

  "Yes!" Mary whispered. Hot tears welled in her eyes. She reached out and grabbed Gaia's hand. My God. The skin was so cold....

  Gaia opened an eyelid. "Are you okay?" she croaked.

  "Me?" Mary hissed, glancing around. The question was almost funny, it was so absurd. But the situation was far from humorous. The park was still deserted. Her eyes fell on Skizz. He wasn't moving. He was still breathing, though. Barely.

  "Yeah," Gaia answered. "He didn't do anything--"

  "We gotta get out of here," Mary hissed urgently. "I think you hurt Skizz really bad."

  Gaia clutched at Mary's arm and tried to pull herself into an upright position. She coughed a few times. She blinked at Skizz.

  "Oh, no," she murmured shakily. Her entire body quivered. Mary couldn't help but notice that her neck was dotted with goose bumps. "I didn't mean ..."

  Mary shook her head. "It--it doesn't matter," she stammered. She could feel her pulse rising, feel her face getting hot--even though the temperature must have been close to zero. Gaia looked so disturbed, so unsure of herself. What the hell had happened, anyway? What had pushed her so far over the edge? The entire evening was starting to feel less like reality and more like some horrible nightmare. Mary fought to stay in control. "We gotta get out of here, Gaia. I mean it. This is really bad...."

  Gaia slumped against her. "You're gonna have to help me," she gasped.

  "All right." Summoning all of her strength, Mary grabbed Gaia by the waist and hauled her to her feet. "Do you think you can walk?"

  "I'll ... try." Gaia flung an arm around Mary's shoulders. She felt like a giant rag doll in Mary's grip--floppy and out of control. But Mary squeezed her as tightly as she could.

  "All we have to do is get to your house, okay?"

  Mary pleaded urgently. "It's not far at all. We can figure this all out when we get there."

  Gaia nodded. "We gotta call 911. He's in really bad shape...."

  "We will. We will." Mary shambled down the path toward the south exit, struggling to drag Gaia beside her. The girl could barely move. She was like a zombie. Catatonic.

  The two of them nearly stepped on Skizz's face.

  "I'm so sorry, Mary," Gaia whispered. "I'm so sorry--"

  "It's all right," Mary interrupted.

  But she was lying. It wasn't all right. Nothing was all right.

  GAIA

  Until now, I never understood the worst part about being fearless.

  It's that I'm not afraid of myself. And I should be. I should be terrified of myself. Especially after what I did to that drug dealer in the park.

  I just pray he lives. No, pray is the wrong word. I don't believe in prayer. I don't believe you can petition a higher power (if there even is a higher power, which I doubt) by clasping your hands together and getting on your knees.

  But I hope the guy lives. I really do.

  And I wish I could tell Mary what happened out there, why I did what I did, but the truth is that I have no idea. That ought to scare me, too.

  It doesn't, though. How can it?

  problem solved

  Loki smiled again. Every operative knew what it meant to be removed from an assignment. It meant removal from existence.

  "I D
ON'T SEE ANYTHING ABOUT IT IN THE paper," Mary mumbled. "So maybe he's okay."

  Partial Confessional

  Gaia sat slumped at the Nivenses' little kitchen table, staring across a soggy bowl of Froot Loops as Mary feverishly scoured the newspaper for any word of Skizz's death. Harsh winter sunlight streamed through the windows. Gaia didn't feel like mentioning that The New York Times probably wouldn't bother to report the death of a drug dealer. She didn't want to upset Mary any more than necessary. But the truth of the matter was that drug dealers got beat up and killed all the time in New York. It was a hazard of the business.

  Still, if Mary believed that Skizz was okay, then she might calm down. And if Mary was calm, then maybe Gaia could convince herself that Skizz was okay, too.

  Yeah. Sure.

  I might have killed a man.

  She'd been up all night, repeating those same words to herself over and over again, like some kind of twisted mantra. She hadn't slept. The fight had left her utterly spent--but she couldn't stop thinking about that look on his face after she'd kicked him....

  But he'd been breathing. Yes. She definitely

  remembered seeing his feeble gasps in the night air. So there was a chance he could have lived. Hopefully their call to 911 hadn't been too late.

  "The problem is, I don't know his real name," Mary murmured distractedly, flipping through the Metro section to the obituaries. She held the paper up in front of her face. "I think it was James something...."

  Gaia's bleary eyes fell to the brightly colored mush in her cereal bowl. Blech. For once she had absolutely no appetite. George had left a carton of minidoughnuts out on the counter as well--but even those didn't look tempting. She sighed and grabbed her bowl, then dumped its contents into the garbage and tossed it in the kitchen sink.

  Mary flinched at the clatter.

  "Sorry," Gaia mumbled.

  "It's okay." Mary folded the paper and laid it in front of her. Her hair was stringy, disheveled. Her face was still as pale as it was the night before. Her freckles seemed to stand out in relief on her white skin. Dark circles ringed her eyes. Jesus. She looked as bad as Gaia felt. "Hey, are George and Ella going to be coming back anytime soon?"