by K C West
I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off.
“Don’t argue with me. It was time for you to go anyway. You both know what you have to do. Remember your promise. Fulfill your legacy.”
“Where’s Marna?” Kim asked, her eyes darting about the smoke-filled compound.
“She had to escort Sappho and her party away from this. They’re safe now.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d come to love the poet despite the fact that she delighted in teasing me.
“What about you?” I asked, ducking a fireball that landed too close for comfort.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.”
Before she could say anything more, a half dozen men in heavy armor stormed into our midst, swords drawn. I had no idea who these raiders were, but I knew they were bent on hurting my Amazon friends, and they had to be stopped. The dizzying heat of rage built up inside me. I was not a trained warrior, but these women had taught me something about defending myself. I didn’t know if I could go on the offensive, though, or if I’d ever be able.
“Here comes round two.” Leeja took a defensive stance, with Kim close behind her. I stayed in back of Kim, searching for a new weapon. The staff I was using had splintered over one soldier’s particularly hard skull.
Flaming arrows continued to strike huts and brush, filling the air with fire and smoke. Individual battles raged and, for a time, we were separated from Leeja. Kim used her sword skills to protect both of us. I tried swinging one half of the broken staff, but it was of little use against armor. Fortunately, a reinforcement of women warriors came to our rescue.
The odds improved until one of the women fell with a sword wound to the chest. I tore a piece off my T-shirt and pressed it tightly against her injury, trying to staunch the heavy flow of blood. The healer was somewhere in the compound, but I had no idea if she would arrive in time, and I felt helpless as I searched through the curtain of smoke for a sign of her.
“Easy, take it easy,” I said, when the wounded warrior tried to speak. It was Alaina, the Amazon who had given me such wonderful backrubs in the grotto. Tears spilled down my cheeks. “Hang on. You’re going to be okay.”
Another warrior raced by, but stopped when she saw us.
“Help me get her to the healer.”
“There isn’t time, PJ. You aren’t safe here.”
As if to prove her right, a man with a battle ax charged us. The Amazon used her sword to deflect most of the blow and then slashed his arm to the bone. He cried out and dropped his weapon, but reached for a dagger which he threw in my direction. I felt it slice across my upper arm, but managed to fall out of the way, while more warriors fired arrows into his chest from close range. He lay dead at my feet.
The contents of my stomach scorched and burned a path up the back of my throat. I picked up a piece of wood to act as a club and crawled back to Alaina. The front of her tunic had turned crimson, and she shivered with pain and shock. We shared a look and the realization that she would bleed out before any help would arrive.
“Water, please.”
Her raspy plea forced me to move again. I found a skin with a few ounces left in it and dribbled some liquid between her cracked lips. She swallowed and made another effort to speak. “Go. Be safe.”
“I’m not leaving you.” I blinked back tears, picked up her sword, and stood over her body. My fingers sticky with Alaina’s blood, I gripped the handle with both hands and swung it like a baseball bat, smacking attackers with the flat part of the blade. At the sound of running feet behind me, I turned, and Kim deflected the blade just as I was about to brain her.
“God, Kim, I’m sorry.”
She reached for my shoulder. “You’re hurt.”
“Just a scratch.” I noted a bloody, torn section of her pant leg.
“You’ve been injured, too.” She waved me off and bent to examine Alaina.
“Kim, we have to get - “
“Honey, she’s dead.” Kim gently closed the warrior’s eyes and stood.
I started to shake, and she pulled me close. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”
“We can’t leave them now. They need us.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying, and that these Amazon women were now so real to me.
We searched for Leeja at the last location we’d seen her, but the air was thick with smoke and fire. Cries of the wounded and dying filled our ears. The coppery smell of blood burned our nostrils. I remembered the saying about war being hell and thoroughly agreed.
Several more armor-clad raiders blocked our path. Kim still clutched her sword. Now it was stained crimson. Carrying Alaina’s sword, I pressed my back against Kim’s, and we engaged the enemy again. Blood and other body fluids splattered over us. Curses and cries assaulted our ears. Sweat streamed into our eyes, poured from our bodies, and made the swords slippery in our hands.
My upper body ached with the exertion of swinging and colliding with enemy body parts. It was terrifying, but in spite of the imminent danger, I was comforted by the warmth of Kim’s back against mine. I knew beyond any doubt that she would kill or be killed to save me, and I would do no less for her. If we had to die here, I believed we would die together, and that reassured me.
Our technique lacked skill and finesse when we first had engaged the enemy, but practice improved our ability. Thanks to the Amazons’ training, we too, had become warriors, in my case at least long enough to defend myself. The men attacked, delivered blows, and wounded us, but they didn’t defeat us. They were battered, too. Unfortunately, they had superior numbers and continued to come at us. We knew it was just a matter of time, just minutes, if not seconds, before they would prevail. Just when we thought it was over, Marna and Leeja burst on the scene with several of their warriors.
A soldier picked that moment to thrust his sword at Kim, driving her to her knees. Before I could move, a young Amazon flew at him with her dagger poised. She sank it into his chest up to the hilt just as his sword slashed downward through her body. She and he collapsed on top of Kim.
While Marna and Leeja rebuffed the attack around us, Kim and I rolled the brave Amazon over and away from the dying raider. I spared him a brief glance, just long enough to see his eyes glaze and blood bubble from the corner of his mouth.
Kim’s savior had been dealt a mortal blow. Kim cradled her in her arms during her last few breaths. I dropped to my knees beside them, and it took me a moment to recognize her.
“Oh, God… Sheena!” Tears flowed freely down Kim’s cheeks. She held the young warrior-in-training who had been our guide during our first day with the Amazons. I put my arms around both of them.
“You truly are a Lion King,” Kim said. We shivered and wept at the sheer senselessness of what we had experienced. With maddening speed, life had become death, and we couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
We staggered to our feet, clutching each other. With a roar, another soldier raised his sword and rushed at us. Kim shoved me down and turned to meet the attack, barehanded. A blood-covered crossbow and several arrows lay on the ground near me. Remembering the day of the archery contest and the brief bit of instruction I got in using the weapon, I snatched it up, loaded an arrow, and fired point blank at Kim’s attacker. Though I aimed at his torso, the arrow hit his sword arm, just above the elbow. He shrieked and his weapon clattered to the ground. Marna rushed over and finished him off with a wicked slash across his neck.
Leeja appeared at our side, breathing hard. “Go.” She pointed to a hut that had not been burned. “You’ll find your packs inside. Get them now. I must send you both back while there’s still time.”
“But what about Sheena and the rest of you?”
“I said now, Kim. There’s nothing more you can do for us here.”
We made our way as swiftly as possible through a path of fallen bodies. The air reeked of smoke and bloodshed. Once inside the hut, we settled our packs against our weary backs. Leeja told us to join hands. We gave each other the once-o
ver by torchlight, and I was sure that all the horror of what I had witnessed was reflected in Kim’s eyes. We had seen evil close-up, and we wanted no further part of it.
“I will touch your medallions now. Do not let go of each other.” Considering the circumstances, Leeja’s voice was remarkably steady.
In the few seconds remaining, I marveled at the amount of devastation and destruction that Leeja and Marna must have experienced during their lifetimes. Unfortunately, I knew what the future held, and the global outcome wasn’t going to be much better. The weapons would be different, but the result would be more bloodshed, destruction, and waste. “What about you and Marna?”
“Pay attention, PJ,” Leeja commanded. “Fill your lungs with air and try to remember the good times. Are you both ready?”
We nodded.
“Good.” She took a deep breath. “Thank you for being with us, even though it was for a short while. The love you share was a joy to behold.”
Kim and I glanced at each other before turning our attention to the Amazon queen. “We had the best of role models,” Kim said, her voice cracking.
“We did. And we love you and Marna, and all your wonderful, courageous warriors.”
“It’s been our pleasure. Don’t worry about us. After we relocate to the west or across the sea, we’ll send spirit guides to help you with your mission. It will not fail.”
Leeja kissed our cheeks and gave us hugs. “Now the time has come for you to go.”
I opened my mouth, but her look silenced me.
“There’s nothing more to be said.”
She held my medallion in her left hand and Kim’s in her right. I gripped Kim’s hand tightly and closed my eyes against the sudden, rushing, whirling wind. It grew increasingly louder and more violent, until we were pulled apart, and the walls of the hut fell away.
The air darkened, filled with a choking dust, and flashed with bright, white lights. I was buffeted by falling stones and bits of wood that drove me to my knees. I couldn’t tell where I was, or where Kim had gone. Then, mercifully, the terrible wind died, and all was quiet.
“Kim… Kim, where are you?”
Chapter 17
I tried to move, to feel for PJ, but I couldn’t budge. When I called out, my mouth filled with choking dust. Where were we? What had happened?
I remembered the battle and how Leeja was trying to rush us back to the twenty-first century. In those last moments, everything had blurred with the noise of battle and the cries of the wounded. Worst of all was the agonizing silence of friends who had lost their lives defending their queen and us.
But where was I now? And where was PJ? Had we been caught in a time warp somewhere between then and the present day and been separated? Forever? Oh, my God, no. Not that. I tried again to move but couldn’t. Was I - were we - trapped in the rubble of ages?
I could hear voices, distant, but voices nevertheless, and Pup’s barks and howls. I would recognize him anywhere. Rocks and dirt moved; people were scratching and clawing through this barrier, furiously trying to free me.
“Hang on, we get you quick.”
It was a man’s voice with a heavy Greek accent. After what seemed like an hour, some of the debris above me was shoved to the side, leaving me coughing and spluttering in a shower of dust. I could see Sandy’s face peering through the space, and then others. Pup poked his muzzle into a tiny opening and licked my face, but he was pulled back so the crew could move the rest of the rubble.
“What happened?” I asked Sandy, when we could hear each other.
“The roof caved in. You okay?”
“I think so. But, PJ… We got separated on our way back from… I don’t know where she is.”
“I’m over here.” Two of the Greek laborers were carefully pulling her out of the rubble.
“Oh, thank God.”
She and I were carried to the main passageway, where we sat side-by-side, waiting for the camp medical staff to examine us.
“You’re a mess,” I said, noting her dirty hair and face, and her torn, filthy clothing.
“You won’t make the cover of Vogue any time soon, either, I hate to tell you.”
When she reacted to my joke, her teeth shone like beacons. She had been smart enough to keep her mouth shut during our ordeal.
The expedition’s medical team, which consisted of Dr. Allen Greenfield and his assistant, Beverly Kennedy, arrived and took over. Considering what had fallen on top of us, our injuries were relatively minor. My slashed leg and the wound on PJ’s shoulder seemed to cause some curiosity, though, along with our blood-spattered clothing - spatters that appeared from their pattern to have come from a source other than our injuries. PJ had a bump on her head, and we both had plenty of bruises. The doctor insisted that we be immobilized and transported to the infirmary on stretchers. He wanted to take x-rays and perform a more complete examination on both of us. As we left the labyrinth, the Greek sunshine warmed us, and Frederick, Susanna, and the others greeted us with relieved cheers.
Our beds were in the same room, but a curtain was drawn between us. I could hear Beverly, the young, African-American Physician’s Assistant, questioning PJ, as the doctor checked my heart and lungs. He was frowning.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
“Not so much a problem as a mystery. Your injuries are not consistent with what you’ve experienced. Both you and Dr. Curtis have deep cuts that resemble stab wounds more than anything else. It’s as if you two tangled with bayonets or long knives, not a roof collapse.”
“Can’t imagine why that is.”
Beverly pulled back the curtain dividing our beds. It allowed me to see PJ. She had heard the doctor’s comments, and we shared a questioning look.
“I’m afraid I don’t remember much after cleaning that fresco,” PJ said.
I decided to follow her lead, keeping my comments vague for the time being. “That’s about when I lost touch with things, too. We went into the small chamber and saw that animal with the intriguing eyes.”
“And I took out my soft-bristled brush to get a better view.”
“Right. Then we heard a rumbling sound, and everything went black.”
The doctor took the stethoscope from his neck and had me lean back against a couple of pillows. “I’ll check the films again, but nothing seems to be broken.” He turned his attention to PJ. “You have a slight concussion, but I want both of you to remain here overnight for observation. While your injuries are not life-threatening, they may cause you discomfort. We’ll need to clean your wounds and suture your lacerations. I’ll have to check your medical records to see if you need Tetanus shots.”
PJ groaned. “I think I’m up to date on the shots, Dr. Greenfield.”
“Let me consult your records to confirm that.” He looked over at me. “Are you going to try to weasel out, too, Dr. Blair?”
“Come to think of it, I probably got one after the landslide in Arizona last fall.”
“Landslides and roof collapses.” Shaking his head, he flipped through the pages of our medical histories. “I didn’t know archaeology could be such a dangerous occupation.”
PJ and I shared another look. “You’d be surprised,” I said, keeping my voice low.
Beverly, apparently catching my comment, asked, “Are you leaving something out of the story, Dr. Blair?”
“Nothing significant. Lately, it seems that we’ve needed nine lives to do our work, that’s all.”
“You’ve had your fair share of excitement, if this latest trauma is any indication. She turned her attention back to PJ. “Dr. Greenfield is right about those cuts, though. During my rotation in the ER at Mass General, I saw a lot of stabbings, and there’s a resemblance. I can’t figure out what sharp objects could have fallen on you and left such injuries. It doesn’t make any sense.”
PJ winced as Beverly peeled the remnants of her shirt away from her wound. “I guess it’s like Murphy’s Law. We seem to have a knack for being in the wrong pla
ce at the wrong time. If it’s possible to get cuts like that from falling debris, then it’ll happen to us.”
“Sounds pretty difficult to me,” the PA said, “but I’m not an archaeologist, and I didn’t see into that room you explored. And the aftermath of the collapse won’t tell me much.” She examined PJ’s shoulder and swabbed the wound with antiseptic.
“What if we told you that we had taken a short vacation to ancient Greece and sided with the Amazons in a battle?” PJ asked, innocently.
I choked on the sip of water I had just taken.
Beverly laughed. “It would explain the wounds, and it would make a great story. Remind me to buy the book, when it comes out.”
Dr. Greenfield finished reading his charts and moved to the sink to scrub up. “Neither of you will need any shots. That’s the good news.”
“Great. What’s the bad news?” PJ asked him, as he numbed the site of her cut and stitched her up.
“Beverly and I honed our suturing skills by stitching up domestic dispute victims and gang fight losers, but we’re not plastic surgeons, so it’s possible both of you will have some scarring. You may need further work done in the future.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “A few more scars won’t bother me at all.”
“And I’ve already got the scar from the bullet wound. If I need plastic surgery, I’ll have both areas done at the same time.” PJ sounded positively practical. “On the other hand, I think I’ll keep the scars and be proud of them.”
“That’s right,” Dr. Greenfield said. “I read about that in your files. Landslides, roof collapses, and flying bullets. I’m really glad I’m a physician and not an archaeologist. Way too lively for me.”
“It does have its moments,” I said.
He finished working on PJ and prepared to join Beverly in suturing my wound.
*
“You two know better than to enter a room not pre-checked for safety.” Sandy sounded like a teacher scolding a couple of naughty children. “What were you thinking?” He had made certain we weren’t seriously injured before he gave us the tongue-lashing.
