“No, I’m not opening the gate. I’m not letting more of those freaks inside.”
“Those are our people. We serve to protect them.”
“Not anymore. They’re all dead, and I’m not willing to risk the only advantage we have for a family that isn’t alive anymore.”
“I need to get back to them.” Cristina placed her hands together in a pleading gesture. “I’m prepared to do anything, please, just open the gate for me. Elinor can stay here with you—”
“You do not speak for me.” Elinor grasped Bear’s hand. “Do you remember when I saved your life from the mountain troll?”
Bear nodded.
“Do you remember what you said to me that day?” Elinor asked.
“I owe you a favor. Ask, and I will oblige, no… no questions asked.”
“Yes. Now, when you first told me that, I never intended to call in the favor. I did what anyone in our service would have done. But I need help now. A gut feeling tells me her family is still alive and I must fulfill my pledge and help her reach them safely. I need you to open the gate.”
Bear stared out the window, and Cristina hoped the screams coming from the other side of the gate would not steer the man’s decision. Elinor placed one hand on Bear’s shoulder, and it sank.
“Okay.” Bear nodded. “Only because I owe you a favor.” He took three steps toward the stairway and stopped. “I want to tell you this upfront. When you get past the gate and it closes behind you, that’s it. I will not let you back in, no matter what. I’m sorry.”
“I understand.” Elinor bowed her head. “Thanks—”
The sound of a shrill screech bounced off the walls inside the narrow lookout tower. Bear readied his sword, and Elinor picked hers up. Before being grabbed and thrown back by Elinor, Cristina saw the knights from the gate, charging up the stairs with swords in their hands.
4
Cristina crouched in a corner, wishing to help, but knew she would only make things worse for Elinor and Bear. No skill to wield a weapon. A lack of motivation to follow through on a kill regardless of its necessitation. Taken together, those were a bad combination against the diseased.
The soldiers, skin flushed with green, arrived at the top floor of the lookout tower, but not alone. Four other knights with weapons drawn also accompanied two of the three by the gate.
Cristina understood why Bear possessed such a high rank in the military. The way he handled his sword made it appear weightless. Despite his bulky frame, he moved with a similar grace to ballet dancers.
Bear and Elinor mowed down their opposition with little resistance. However, with their attention focused on the stairway, they did not see Justin climb in through the window.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m here to—”
Justin screeched.
Yellowed eyes glared down at the nurse. Neither Elinor nor Bear stood between the diseased knight and Cristina.
Justin leaped with his sword and struck down, but it clanked against the stone floor as Cristina dived out of the way, but she twisted her wrist upon landing. Another pounce, another miss to keep her alive for the moment.
Cristina scurried back and reached into her bag for something to help. Feeling her fingers wrap around a small vial, Cristina pulled out the red pilosella she had used before. Maybe it could work, she thought.
When Justin leaped again, Cristina uncorked the vial and tossed its contents toward him. However, throwing the potion slowed her down and Justin’s body crashed onto Cristina. The blow drove all wind from her lungs, and pain lanced through her injured wrist.
Justin lifted his sword high above him.
Instead of striking down at Cristina, the knight screeched and dropped his weapon, slumping over while clutching at his face. If the pilosella had indeed seeped into his eyes, it would sting as if someone had placed a ghost pepper seed on the pupil.
The screaming alerted Elinor, prompting her to rush over and thrust her blade into Justin, sending him to the afterlife.
Elinor’s eyes widened when she glanced back toward Bear.
One of the diseased jerked her body from left to right. Bear’s ankle buckled. The action forced him down to one knee. Despite the disadvantage, he deflected Sue’s strike and jabbed his sword into someone else.
It was not enough. Two others pounced on him.
After Elinor pulled her blade out of Justin, she charged toward Bear. Although she held a smaller frame compared to every other knight in the room, Elinor possessed more strength than Cristina expected. In one motion, Elinor stabbed Sue and barreled into both diseased on top of Bear.
Cristina yelped.
Elinor, along with the two infected soldiers, tumbled down the spiral staircase.
Cristina sped past Bear, not thinking to check on his status, and raced down the stairs, two at a time, until she reached the bottom. Elinor glanced up from where she lay on the floor and smiled. The two diseased who had fallen with her were sprawled out, lifeless.
“How-how did you…?”
“I don’t know.” Elinor raised her hands. “Luck? Skill? Either way, I’m alive, and they aren’t. It’s not all good, though.”
Elinor pointed behind her, and a further inspection revealed a small knife buried in her back.
“How bad is it?”
“Not great. Can you feel anything?”
“Not at all.”
Even worse. Cristina knew from experience that blades could sever nerves, which led to unpredictability as to the extent of damage caused. At best, adrenaline was assisting Elinor not to feel any pain. At worst? Elinor could lose her ability to walk. Ever again.
Cristina reached into her purse for the red pilosella but came up empty. The image of Justin screaming while clutching at his face popped into her mind, and she cursed. Without the chemical, Cristina would not be able to know for sure if she could stop the bleeding after yanking the blade out.
“I’m going to get my bag, don’t move.”
“No, we’d be easy targets. Let’s go upstairs.”
“I can’t carry you and any false move—”
“I can still use my arms.” Elinor swung her sword over her head and sheathed it behind her. “You can keep my body steady, and I’ll pull myself up the stairs.”
“It’s too risky. If the blade moves ever so slightly—”
“The risk is there regardless if one of those maddened come in. If we stay here, we will definitely die. If we go up, I may die. I like those odds.”
I don’t. A wooden lever right next to the door caught Cristina’s eye. “Does that switch do something?” Cristina reached for it—
“Leave it alone.” Elinor pointed up at a ten-foot-long, two-foot-wide maple tree log hoisted into the air. “The switch releases the log and jams it between the door and the floor. It will lock the door, preventing anything from coming in.”
“Great. This way you can stay here, and we don’t have to move you.”
“No. That lever is a last resort. If we flip the switch, we become locked in here. We wouldn’t be able to leave.”
“What about the window? Justin came up, didn’t he?”
Elinor shook her head. “The switch obstructs the window as well. The lookout towers doubled as a desperate measure to ensure the king’s safety. A few of us would escort the king inside and lock ourselves in with the sole purpose of keeping him alive. Then we would pray that the knights on the outside would win whatever war we’re fighting. If that happened, they would come and unlock the door for us.”
Cristina’s shoulders drooped. “Because it’s just you and me, no one would come let us out.”
“Unfortunately. And you need to find Karl and Lea. So help me up the stairs.”
Cristina took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. “Fine.”
Watching Elinor pull herself up fifty feet of steps with only the strength of her arms impressed Cristina. In fact, Cristina did nothing to keep Elinor’s body steady.
When they arriv
ed at the top, Elinor was motionless with her head down. Cristina assumed the knight would be too proud to ask for help after the handrail ended. However, when Cristina slipped around to stand next to Elinor, Bear’s lifeless body came into full view.
“Was he a good friend?” Cristina asked.
“Yes. He was one of the only ones who never questioned my gender.”
Cristina froze, unsure how to respond. After fifteen years working as a nurse, she thought she would have developed the skill of consoling a loved one after a death. But she hated those moments and often said the wrong thing. Instead of responding now, Cristina just stood in silence.
After a few seconds passed, Elinor pointed to the wall. Cristina used her shoulders as support for the knight and helped her to the side, taking as much care as possible not to allow the knife in her back to nudge even an inch. The screeches outside had subsided, a welcome silence as Cristina laid Elinor on her side.
“I’ll need to pull the blade out.” Cristina sucked in some air. “However, I don’t have red pilosella to cauterize the wound. Instead, I’ll place manual pressure until the bleeding stops.”
“Okay, so do it.”
“We’ll have two problems when I pull the knife out. One, I can’t guarantee I can apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding before you lose too much.”
“And the other?”
“Because I’m doing this blind, I can’t know for sure if pulling the knife out will do more damage, cut something fatal.”
“And we can’t leave the knife in? I don’t feel it.”
“It’s too risky. It could shift at any time and sever something more serious, and soon the metal will start to corrode, mixing with your blood, which would give you a body-wide infection.”
“You think pulling the knife out is the best option?”
Elinor’s last question made Cristina hesitate. Not the words themselves, but the way she said them. For the first time since they met as kids twenty five years ago, Elinor appeared scared. Cristina wished she could sugarcoat her next line, but it needed to be said.
“They’re all bad options, but I think we should do this.”
“Okay, go ahead. I trust you.”
Elinor turned onto her stomach and pinned her hands between her thighs and the floor.
Cristina licked her lips. I’ve done this before, why am I nervous? The memory of the last time Cristina had to pull an impaled object out popped up in her mind. A teenager playing with his mother’s crossbow had shot a bolt through his foot. Cristina had pulled the projectile out successfully, without any complications, yet now nerves rattled in her body.
Cristina placed one hand on Elinor’s back and another on the knife handle, prepared to extract the blade. One deep breath, and an internal count to three before pulling. One. Two—
“Wait,” Elinor said. “I’ve seen people do inexplicable things under extreme pain.” She removed a string from her belt and handed it to Cristina. “Tie my hands together so I don’t try to stop you, or worse, attack you for trying to help.”
Cristina wrapped the thin handcuff device around Elinor’s wrists, slipped it through the connector, and yanked it tight. Not trusting the strength of the string, Cristina tugged, but nothing budged.
Another deep breath. One. Two. Three. The knife slipped out in one motion, level all the way through. Elinor screamed, a favorable indication, but the positivity dissolved when blood spurted out of the wound in a constant stream.
Cristina grabbed a rag from inside her bag and pushed down hard on the laceration. The cloth soaked through and dripped red, but Cristina held the pressure. After a few minutes, the bleeding stopped, but Cristina kept exerting force, not willing to take the risk, waiting until she felt certain the blood clotted.
Once Cristina decided enough time passed, she reached into her bag, pulled out some tape, and fastened the rag to Elinor’s body with the adhesive.
“I’m not going to walk again, am I?”
“You never know. Stranger things have happened.”
“Don’t soften the blow for me. I’m not blind. I lost a lot of blood. I felt the pain when you yanked the knife out, but I haven’t felt anything since. Tell me the truth.”
Cristina helped Elinor up, sat her against the wall, and cut her wrist ties with a blade picked up from another knight. “I’m not going to sugarcoat things for you. The odds of you walking again are low. But you felt something when I took the knife out. That’s a good sign.”
“I see. So when are you leaving?”
Cristina thought about Karl and Lea and how she needed to get to them. However, her duty as a nurse meant never to leave anyone injured behind. Would she throw away her professional responsibility to search for a family she may never find or abandon Karl and Lea to care for someone in need?
“I can’t leave you.”
“Sure you can. You must find your family.”
“I need you with me. I can’t go on by myself.”
Elinor laughed, which caused a short coughing fit. “You aren’t as weak as you think you are. Not many people could endure the things you have since this all started.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Is that what you believe? You’re willing to go across town, pass through thousands of maddened people, just to get to those you love. You’re willing to save people who are injured by this disease, knowing the danger it places you in.”
“That’s my responsibility.”
Elinor coughed again. “Most people would go into hiding until this all dies down. You didn’t. Most people like myself would have no issues killing those afflicted with the plague. You do. That takes a special toughness, to not kill those who may yet still have hope.”
Growing up, Cristina never thought she possessed strength. Always the shortest, the thinnest, the weakest, she never excelled in anything physical. Cristina only shined in situations where she helped others in their tasks. Not that she labeled those who provided support as inferior, but to her, support did not equal skill. Not like Elinor, who could take on multiple enemies at once and defeat them all without breaking a sweat.
“Can I ask you a question?” Cristina wanted to change the subject. “I watched you and Bear fight. You’re better. Why is he ranked higher than you?”
Elinor chuckled. “Well, that’s what happens when the king weds your sister. You skip others who may be in line for a promotion.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. He didn’t ask to skip me, and I believe him. I also don’t think I would have enjoyed the rank advancement. I’ve seen the extra responsibility it adds and I—”
Elinor coughed again and struggled to end the fit. When she did, her breathing shallowed, and she wiped her forehead after the over-exertion. Both Cristina and Elinor stared with widened eyes at the knight’s hands.
They were flushed with a dull green.
5
Cristina stared at Elinor in disbelief. Her eyes had yellowed. At that moment, Cristina realized Elinor had been coughing on and off for the last couple of hours.
The disease was taking over Elinor’s body.
“Well, the good news is you didn’t kill me with the blade. The bad news is it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“I’m sorry.”
Cristina scanned her memory of when she had pulled the knife out of Elinor’s back. Did the blade cause the plague to set in? Had the disease affected Elinor from the beginning and only surfaced now?
Elinor slipped out her sword and held it out toward Cristina. “You need it.”
After taking the weapon, Cristina gaped at the cumbersome blade in her hand. Even with a second hand on the hilt, she doubted she could wield the sword half as well as Elinor did.
“I’m sorry,” Cristina said. “I don’t know what I did wrong. How did I get the infection in you?”
“It’s not your fault. Maybe this storm, this green rain, infected everyone and it’s just a matter of time before they fall to this dise
ase.” Elinor rested her sweaty hand on Cristina’s forearm. “You know what you must do?”
“It’ll be hard.” Cristina glanced out the window of the lookout tower. “Eventually, I’ll need to go on alone, but I’m not leaving yet.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Elinor coughed. “The plague will take over my mind, and I’ll become maddened. You can’t let that happen.”
“I don’t know how to cure you. I can’t—”
“I don’t mean cure. I mean stop the disease from killing me.”
“How?”
“By driving my sword through my heart.”
Cristina slid away from Elinor while shaking her head. “No. No. I can’t do that. No.” Cristina pulled back further. “I can’t even kill someone who threatened my life. How do you imagine I can kill one of my good friends?”
“Because you aren’t killing me. You’re helping a friend alleviate the pain they will go through.”
A mercy killing. The hospital allowed people the freedom to not live on with an incurable disease. Assisted suicide. In the fifteen years Cristina worked as a nurse, she never supported the idea nor ever partook in the assistance of someone taking their own life.
She shook her head. “I’m not going to kill you if there is even the slight possibility of a cure.”
“Do you really believe there is hope? This plague appears as if the gods decided we have progressed in a manner unbecoming to them. They are wiping us off the map. There is no hope, only death.”
“I’m not affected.”
Elinor twitched and coughed. “Which means the hope lies with you and not me. I was meant to get you here. This is the end of the line for me. I don’t want to become maddened. I need your help.”
“There’s still hope for you—”
“No there isn’t. If you won’t do it, then give me my blade, and I’ll do it myself.”
Cristina forgot Elinor gave her sword over earlier. The silver blade glinted in the moonlight, a false symbol of purity.
“I can’t.” Cristina kept her grip on the weapon. “I’m sorry.”
“I see.” Elinor’s body slumped toward the side. “Me too.”
The Kingdom's Destruction Page 3
