by Shade Owens
The moment I opened my eyes, hot searing pain shot up my nose.
Awesome. First, a possible cheekbone fracture from Rainer’s stupid son, and now, Rainer herself had likely broken my nose.
When Zofia, the doctor I’d met earlier that day, leaned in uncomfortably close to my face, I tried to squirm away. Her eyes were so far apart, she reminded me of an ant, but somehow, they suited her. Her auburn hair looked even redder than it had earlier, and that’s when I noticed all the blood smudged on her neck, shoulders, and hands.
She didn’t seem injured, though, which meant the blood wasn’t hers.
“You have several fractures,” she said, brushing a gentle finger along the bridge of my nose and across my swollen cheek.
I winced and pulled away.
“Relax,” she said, her thick accent soothing me. “I fix your nose.”
I made my eyes go big. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“When you were passed out,” she said. “I fix it.”
Oh, thank God.
“She okay?” came a familiar voice.
At first, I thought maybe I was hallucinating. But as she came closer, her sconce’s orange glow lit up her bloody face, and I knew I wasn’t hallucinating.
“Hey, kid,” Murk said.
Why was she looking at me like that? Like she knew me?
“Murk?” I asked.
“Brone,” she said, a sly smirk on her lips. “I was right about you.”
I tried to sit up, but Zofia pressed on my chest and told me to lie back down.
“I thought you didn’t recognize…” I tried.
“I was only trying to protect you,” Murk said.
Sighing, I closed my eyes, relieved to know that Murk hadn’t lost her memory.
Rainer, I remembered. Shooting upright, I searched the cavern.
Murk must have known what I was thinking—she knelt by me and slowly pushed me back down. “You have a lot of injuries,” she said. “You need to rest. Don’t worry about Rainer. I finished this once and for all.”
I stared into her bright, crystal-like eyes that matched her icy hair. “You killed her?”
Murk nodded. “It’s over, Brone.”
One by one, faces emerged from behind Murk. Biggie, Rocket, Elektra, Fisher, Hammer, Coin… My friends who had survived. Then, beside Biggie appeared another familiar face—Quinn.
She forced a smile, her septum piercing barely moving on her face. Her colorful hair that had once reminded me of Harley Quinn was now a filthy, bloodstained blond. She was nearly as tall as Biggie, through much smaller now. Her tattooed arms, which had once been thick and flabby, were as small as mine.
She cast her eyes to the ground, and there was no doubt in my mind that she’d lost countless women she cared about in battle.
“We did it,” I said, staring at everyone in Rainer’s lair. “Are there others?” I asked. “Where are Fran and Pam? Where’s Scorch? Dibs?”
Murk solemnly shook her head. “The last stretch was rough… They didn’t make it.”
A sinking feeling sat in my stomach, and I swallowed hard. How had I lost so many people in a single day? If I allowed myself to start thinking about all of those who’d lost their lives… Flander, Sumi, Johnson, Arenas, Jack, Fran, Pam, Scorch, Dibs, Ellie… I feared I might fall into a depression so deep I’d never find my way out.
“We have several women outside,” Murk said. “They’re searching for more survivors.”
I nodded without saying anything. My throat was so tight it felt like Zsasz was strangling me again.
“Watch out,” came someone’s voice.
The crowd of women around me broke apart as a tall, fur-covered figure entered the cave. She was carrying someone, but I couldn’t see who it was.
“Zofia,” the voice said, moving closer.
The moment I caught a glimpse of her face, I slapped Murk’s hands away from me and sat upright.
“What the fuck is this?” I snapped, staring the Norther in the face.
“Relax,” Murk said, no longer able to hold me down. “That’s Iskra. She was one of their medics.”
“And what the hell’s she doing here?” I growled.
“Iskra isn’t like them,” Murk said. “She’s with us.”
Iskra… I remembered that name. Olga, the old Russian woman, had told me that Iskra had always been the sweetest of the Russian orphans. I also remembered her face. Iskra was the one who had come to my defense when I’d jumped on Georgia. If it hadn’t been for her, Georgia and I would have been forced to fight to the death.
She looked the same as she had that day—lanky, pale, and with puffy bags that sat under her eyes and over her cheeks. Unlike the other Northers, she wasn’t wearing any metallic armor or carrying any weapon. She stared at me as if seeing an old friend for the first time in years.
“You,” she said, still holding onto the limp body in her arms. “I saw your sadness for this girl.”
Sadness? Who was she talking about? A few women stepped farther away from Iskra, allowing the sconce’s warm glow to illuminate the body in her arms. The woman’s hair, dark and wavy, hung so low it nearly touched the ground. Underneath Iskra’s fingers and over the woman’s shoulder was a blue and yellow butterfly tattoo I’d have recognized anywhere.
I parted my lips to breathe Ellie’s name, but nothing came out. My throat swelled and I turned away. I wanted to step closer, kiss Ellie’s cold forehead, and tell her that I loved her, but I couldn’t move.
Footsteps shuffled behind me, but still, I didn’t look. Instead, I stared at Rainer’s old throne, wondering if my heart might explode. This was worse than anything I’d ever experienced in my life… worse than being sentenced here, and even worse than being dragged away by police officers while my mom cried out for me, a petrified look on her face.
“Let’s put her down. Right here. Perfect. Ah. I see what you did there,” came Zofia’s voice. “Where did you learn to do this?”
“Olga,” Iskra said. “She was a nurse in Russia.”
No one said anything, undoubtedly because they had no idea who Olga was.
“You did well,” Zofia said. “The wound is clean, and it looks like you pulled the arrow out perfectly.”
The wound? Why were they talking about her wound being cleaned? I swung around to find Ellie lying on her side with Zofia crouched behind her. She squinted, examining Ellie’s puncture wound, and smiled up at Iskra.
“Let’s bring her somewhere comfortable until she vakes up,” Zofia said. “Continue to monitor her. We need to be careful of infection.”
Wakes up?
I ran to Ellie’s side and dropped to my knees. Still smiling, Zofia looked up at me.
“She’s… she’s… she’s…” I sputtered.
Zofia reached for my shoulder, a touch as warm as a hot mug of cocoa on a crisp winter day. “Because of Iskra, she is.”
I gazed at Iskra, my throat so tight I thought I might stop breathing. My bottom lip trembled, but no words came out. It was like I didn’t have to vocalize how I was feeling. She smiled sweetly at me and nodded as if saying, You’re welcome.
And then, the tears came pouring out. I threw my arms around Ellie’s body and pressed my face against hers. It was warm, not cold, and her skin became slippery with all of my tears.
“You’re alive,” I breathed.
CHAPTER 17
Leaning against the entryway, I stared at Ellie’s peaceful face. She lay on the bed I’d sat on earlier that day, half of her body lit up by a ray of sunlight coming through the hole in the wall. It was strange to think that only hours ago, I’d been standing in this very room, preparing myself for death.
“She will be okay,” came Iskra’s voice.
I turned my head sideways.
“Iskra…” I said.
She raised an open palm and shook her head somberly. “After everything my people have done to yours, this was the least I could do. I will spend the rest of my life tryin
g to make up for what happened.”
“This wasn’t your fault,” I said.
She cast her dark brown eyes to the cave’s solid floor. “I should have spoken up… When I was young, I felt it wasn’t right. But I was too shy… too quiet, to question Rainer in front of everyone. I wasn’t the only one. Zsasz wasn’t always so bad, you know.”
I clenched my fists, finding that incredibly hard to believe, but reminded myself that at one point, Zsasz had been nothing more than an innocent child—an orphan thrown into the system against her will.
“She was the funny one,” Iskra said, smiling at the memory. She had a large smile—the kind that reveals every tooth in one’s mouth. Luckily, hers didn’t appear to be rotten. They weren’t white by any means, but they weren’t any worse than other teeth on this island. She leaned her head against the stone wall behind her and sighed. “She used to make jokes all the time, especially when Rainer would turn away. But Rainer was always so angry. All she ever spoke about was this Murk, and how one day, she would get her revenge. So when Zsasz made jokes and Rainer heard them, she’d grab Zsasz by the hair and throw her face-first onto the ground, filling her mouth and eyes with sand and dirt. Zsasz cried every time but didn’t stop her jokes, even when Rainer started burning her skin with hot metal or hitting her across the face.” Iskra sucked in a long breath and let it out through her nose. “The jokes only stopped when Rainer started forcing Zsasz to kill people. When she and her other women caught someone running wild in the jungle, they’d capture her, tie her up, and get Zsasz to stab a knife into her heart.”
I swallowed hard, sick to my stomach. How the hell could anyone do that to a child?
“Hold old were you guys?” I asked.
“I was six, and Zsasz was nine. I think that’s why Rainer picked on her the most—she was the oldest of us all.”
Iskra’s smile returned. “You know her name wasn’t always Zsasz. It used to be Dominika. Rainer, when she wasn’t beating us or yelling at us, spoke of super villains around fires at night. She said a dark creature by the name of Batwoman brought chaos to cities in the real world. She said she could fly and climb tall buildings… taller than trees. She then spoke of a hero by the name of Zsasz. I think she spoke of her to make Dominika feel better about her scars. Some days, Rainer was like a mother to us, and when she told that story, tears filled her eyes as if she felt awful for what she’d done to Dominika. It didn’t last, of course. But her story was powerful enough to convince Dominika that her scars were something to be proud of.”
“So she kept cutting herself,” I said, matter-of-factly.
Iskra nodded.
“And killing,” I added.
She nodded again.
I hated Zsasz—the last thing I wanted was to have any sort of sympathy toward her. But after hearing Iskra’s story, it was hard not to acknowledge that Zsasz, too, had been a victim in all of this.
In a sense, everyone was a victim of their circumstances. No one was born evil—events and situations were what changed people. But then I thought of Eliot and how he, now a young man, knew right from wrong.
How was it that some people, despite their heinous pasts, were able to overcome it all and bring good to this world while others continued down a dark path of self-harm and violence toward others?
Neither one of us spoke, and instead, I watched Ellie’s chest move gently up and down.
“Are you sure she’ll be okay?” I asked.
Iskra’s thin pale lips curved up at one end. “I promise you that I will do everything to make sure she survives this.”
I reached for Iskra’s shoulder and she flinched.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I am not used—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. But I do have to explain something to you.”
She blinked, her lips sealed tight.
“Rainer lied to you,” I said.
Iskra tilted her head. “About what?”
“About Batman.”
“Batman?”
I let out a soft chuckle. “The story is actually about Batman, not Batwoman, and Zsasz wasn’t a woman, he was a man. And Batman was the hero, not Zsasz… Zsasz was a murdering bastard who worked for Penguin.”
Iskra cocked an eyebrow. “Penguin?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. The point is, forget anything Rainer ever taught you other than English. She had serious problems.” I tapped my temple. “If she couldn’t even be honest about a story everyone knows, she probably lied to you your entire childhood.”
Iskra stood there, biting her bottom lip. It looked like it was sinking in.
“And Batman isn’t real,” I said.
She let out a breath so loud I thought maybe Ellie might wake up. “What a relief. She made us fear the real world with that story… She told us Batwoman… Batman, I mean, entered the homes of people and tore children apart limb by limb. She said that she alone was the only one capable of protecting us from her… him, I mean.”
“I’d be willing to bet that Rainer said Murk was a lot like Batwoman,” I said.
Iskra looked away from me as if embarrassed for having ever believed anything Rainer said.
Slowly, I reached for her shoulder again. This time, she didn’t flinch but instead rounded her back and smiled shyly.
“You’re with us now, Iskra.”
She parted her lips to say something when Ellie let out a soft moan.
CHAPTER 18
“Ellie?” I said.
She moaned again, rolling her head from side to side. Large beads of sweat slid down her forehead, which was cold to the touch.
I turned to Iskra. “What’s wrong with her?”
Iskra planted two balled fists on her waist. “Probably a fever. Her body is trying to fight an infection. Don’t worry. Zofia will gather medicine for her. You should rest, too, Brone.”
Only when she said those words did the sickness sink in. It was as if I’d been so pumped with adrenaline I’d forgotten how grave my injuries were.
“I’m… I’m okay,” I lied.
“Why don’t you lie down with her?”
I smiled at the thought, then bent down and kissed Ellie’s clammy forehead. As I pulled away, Ellie’s plush lips stretched into a faint smile.
“Ellie?” I asked.
Slowly, she opened her honey brown eyes. They were narrow and bloodshot, but they were the most beautiful thing I’d seen all day, like a sun making an appearance after a devastating hurricane.
“Did… did we win?”
I let out a relieved laugh and kissed her lips. “We did.”
She swallowed hard and winced. Beside her head, atop a small wooden table, was a stone bowl with water in it that Iskra had left for her. I picked it up and gently tilted it against Ellie’s lips. She slurped it up as if she hadn’t had a lick of water in days and nodded rapidly when she’d had enough.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Are you?” she said.
“Are you waiting for me to thank you for saving my life?” I asked.
Her eyes turned into little moons, which I knew was a translation for, Yes.
“I thought you were dead,” I said, trying hard not to let my anger show. “Why would you have done something so stupid like that? I could have lost you, Ellie. What the hell were you—”
“And I could have lost you,” she said. She reached for my face—a delicate caress—and stared at me intently. “I wouldn’t survive this island without you.”
“You survived it before—”
“That was before I met you,” she cut me off. “It isn’t all about you, Brone. It was either me or you, and at that moment, I wanted you to live. You can be pissed off all you want—”
“I’m not pissed off. I was terrified—”
“I get that,” she said. “But had you been in my shoes, you’d have done the same thing.”
She swallowed hard again and her eyelids became heavy. How
was I supposed to argue with that? She was right. I’d have jumped in front of an arrow for her time and time again.
“You need to rest,” I said.
She cleared her throat. “Aren’t… Aren’t you going to thank me?”
I smiled, staring at her perfectly symmetrical face. I brushed my thumb along her jaw and across her lips, then slowly bent forward and kissed her again. Her hot breath slipped out through her nostrils and onto my face.
I pulled away, but only briefly, before kissing her nose, her soft cheeks, and her clammy forehead.
“I love you,” I said.
With eyes still closed, she whispered, “I love you, too.”
“I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
When she didn’t respond, I knew she’d fallen asleep.
I got up, a throbbing pain shooting down my back, and made my way down the cavern. Iskra followed close behind without saying a word. Every muscle and bone in my body was hurting so badly I thought I might pass out, but after all that had happened, I needed to go out there and see what was going on.
As much as I wanted to lie against Ellie and escape this reality, I wasn’t finished.
The moment I stepped out into open air and onto the desolate remains of the battlefield, my throat swelled. The sight was absolutely devastating—bodies lay everywhere, both Northers and my people. The solid wooden cabins that had once been lined up against the mountain were nothing more than cracked wooden planks and piles of ashes. The tents, too, along with the entire gate, had burned to a crisp. All that was left was an open field full of bodies, bloody weapons, and dust.
Women walked about, stepping over bodies with heads tilted forward as they searched for survivors. The sun was slowly beginning to set, which was likely why so many women were scavenging through the battlefield. If there were any other survivors, it was important we find them as soon as possible.
At the center of the open space, where the tents had once been, I caught a glimpse of something I wished I hadn’t. With a metal brace fastened around her ankle, Smith lay beneath large slabs of wood, covered in ash. Half of her body, including her face, was burned away.
