Maiden of Fire

by Ishabelle Torry

  Kald, Jalomar’s right hand man and oldest friend rounded the stone steps. “You think Labelle is up to something new?”

  “Nay, if that phenomenon was meant to destroy me, it would have struck me dead. The last battle is too fresh, and she's still licking her wounds. It will take months to replace and train the men she’s lost.”

  Kald stroked the long hairs of his tawny goatee. “Shall I have the horses made ready? I can gather the men within the hour.”

  Jalomar looked out into the horizon. The phenomenon seemed to be dimming. “Aye, grab Halton and his boys. Those young whoremongers are itching for something to do, and I'm certain if I don't occupy them shortly, my chamberlain will be resigning.”

  “Indeed, milord.” Kald laughed heartily. “Speaking of those rakish lads, I'd be expecting a complaint from the blacksmith in regards to his lovely daughter.”

  “Greta? Those boys have a better chance at sticking her father, Gunther.”

  “Only because she has doe eyes for you, my friend. Are you still considering taking her to wife?”

  “Aye. A consideration I'm entertaining seriously. I need heirs, and soon. I swear I can hear my father's ghost whispering in my ears at night. If I'm going to be stuck with a wife, she might as well be comely.” Jalomar slapped Kald on the back. “And submissive enough to leave me to my affairs.”

  “Why don't you simply marry the widow Lacy then? You've been sporting her for years, and she's young enough to produce sons yet.”

  “She’s too demanding. I've told you before, all women are whores, some only cheaper. The widow Lacy would bankrupt the kingdom and then spread her legs for any man willing to toss her a coin.”

  Kald snickered. “The lass Greta it is then, milord.” The mysterious light pulsed again. “Shall I also gather a few footmen?”

  “Nay. I need you to scout the area first. Travel lightly. I will be a few hours behind with a small reserve of men. Report to me along the Thrice River where the first set of forks mark the beginning of Gypsy land.”

  “Why so close to their border?”

  “If Labelle has decided to strike, we are going to need reinforcements. The treaty between Lord Horgan and I will come into play if Labelle's army is within a day's ride of his border.”

  Kald bowed. “I will be gone within the hour, milord.”

  Chapter Two

  Present Day

  The climax of the song pounded from the big box speakers set up along the night club's back walls. An array of black lights, fluorescent colored lights, and a decorative disco ball flickered brilliant colors amongst the mob dancing at the center of the elongated dance floor. Not one person could resist undulating to the hip-hop beat.

  Ramona Douglas was one of those bodies among the crowd. Her pale skin flushed with excitement. Sweat poured down her curvaceous figure as she shook wildly to the drumming of the song. She danced like a pagan, a wild Amazon worshiping the gods. Then the dance mix ended, replaced by a slow love song. A wave of rushing adults scattered in search of drink, while a few couples dotted the dance floor. Ramona panted, desperate for something wet to quench her throat, but she wasn’t about to fight her way through the crowd and wait in line at the jam-packed bar. Instead, she and her best friend since childhood, Megan Rowan, went the opposite direction to their favorite table in the far western corner.

  Megan plopped down on a short version of a bar stool and swallowed the remainder of her ice melted Rum and Coke. “It’s something for now.” She giggled.

  “Thanks, Meg.” Ramona shook her head, knowing Megan neared her alcohol tolerance by the way she swirled around in her seat. “I think we should be leaving in a few minutes. It’s getting late, and we have to be up early for class.”

  Megan pouted; her glossy blues begged Ramona. “Why must you always try to kill my buzz? The club is still open for another hour! We can still get another dance and drink in, maybe two. We so should stay. Besides, that incredibly hot guy over there has been eyeballing you for over an hour now.”

  Ramona’s gaze followed Megan’s pointing finger. She focused through the flashing lights and located the guy with ease. Megan hadn’t been lying. He was pretty damn hot with tight blond curls and an extremely well-honed athletic build, which he proudly displayed through his tighter-than-skin white tee. But she wasn’t interested, and she sent him a look that told him so.

  She was never interested, and that was starting to worry her. She supposed it was the way she had been raised. Her mother—well, adopted mother Gladys—spoke of her lost love often, sharing with Ramona the many stories of her life at her beloved Arvin’s side. When Gladys spoke of Arvin and their native home, it sounded like a fairytale. Unfortunately, Gladys had lost Arvin shortly before Ramona's adoption. Instead of returning across the sea to her homeland, she’d remained in the States and adopted Ramona, a troubled thirteen-year-old with a juvenile record the size of the city Yellow Pages. A wistful sigh escaped her lips. May you rest in peace, Mama.

  “Buzz killer!” Megan declared with a grin. “Stop scowling and go get your groove on!”

  Ramona pursed her lips. “My groove is just peachy, thanks.”

  “Whateves, Virgin Queen. Maybe he'd take me home instead? Hubba Hubba.”

  Ramona laughed into a closed fist. “I'm pretty sure he already has.”

  Megan playfully slapped at Ramona and gulped the remainder of her watered down drink. “Don't be hatin' because you're afraid to take a bite from the sample tray. Long live the Virgin Queen!”

  “The sample tray?” Ramona rolled her eyes. “And stop calling me that. When I meet the right appetizer, you're the first person I'll tell.”

  “Finally!” Megan exclaimed, pointing to the waitress zinging in and out of the crowd and heading toward their table. “She has Pucker shots. That’ll hold us over until the line at the bar clears some!”

  Ramona nodded her agreement, glad for the distraction. “One more drink, though, then we’ll bail. This way we don’t spend an hour trying to get a taxi when everyone else is.”

  Megan squealed as she threw ten bucks on the waitress’ tray, and snatched up two of each of the flavors offered for a total of ten small tubes filled with Pucker.

  Ramona took her five and downed them. “We’re so gonna regret this tomorrow. You know that, right?”

  Megan laughed. “One day, you'll learn to loosen up. So help me God, Moe, I'm gonna teach you if it's that last thing I do!”

  The music once again kicked up, signaling the mob of dancers back to the floor. Ramona and Megan were the first to claim their spot in the middle. As the alcohol flowed through her system, Ramona found it easy to let go, not caring what anyone thought of her wild and rather uncoordinated dance steps. The beat now controlled her limbs, or was it the liquor? Either way, she felt the ground shaking effects of her drunken stupor and was more the merrier for it.

  Ground shaking?

  Screams erupted. Everyone stood petrified. Earthquakes didn’t happen in New York. Did they? The tremors slowed, ceasing moments later. The club began to empty. Ramona motioned Megan to stay where they stood. “Wait a few minutes. It’ll be crazy out there. Give everyone a chance to scatter first. We can wait in here safely.”

  Megan wrapped her arms around Ramona. “Are you sure?”

  “No,” she admitted with a lopsided grin. “But it’s still safer in an empty building than going into the streets with a bunch of scared and drunk people.”

  “You’re probably right, Moe. Do you think that was an earthquake for real?”

  “What else could it be?”

  “I don't know. This building is pretty old, and maybe—”

  The club manager’s hysterical, high-pitched screams cut Megan off as he came running from the office in the back of the building. “It’s the end of the world! We’re all doomed! Channel 4! Channel 4!”

  The girls exchanged worried glances and headed for the office. Ramona’s stomach churned as she listened to the aged newscaster.

&n
bsp; “We've speculated for millenniums the end of the world, and today, my fellow man, it has finally come upon us. NASA has released the devastating confirmation this morning. An asteroid, Pouco Morte, or Little Death, has already struck in the heart of Baffin Bay, decimating Greenland, Canada, and Iceland. NASA states the effects of this impact will be felt by the eastern hemisphere of Earth as quakes, tsunamis, and volcanic eruptions. The asteroid in itself was not big enough to be considered a threat to mankind’s continued existence. However, my friends, a second asteroid Abaddon, Hebrew in origination and meaning destruction, will hit Earth within the next twelve hours. The asteroid’s estimated measure is ten miles in diameter, and is believed to be even larger than the infamous asteroid which annihilated the dinosaurs sixty-five million years ago.

  “Through all our valiant efforts to observe the skies, the asteroids had remained undetected until they breached the immediate line of sight. It is believed these rogue asteroids were knocked loose from the asteroid belt lying between Mars and Jupiter, and I repeat, will impact Earth sometime within the next twelve hours. NASA has also confirmed many smaller fragments will break away from Abaddon as it enters our super-heated atmosphere, striking the east coast near New York before the final blow minutes later is delivered to the west of Hawaii, impacting the Pacific Ocean. Tonight, the President of the United States will address the nation one final time, giving the exact details of impact location, and any plans to save the masses. May God have mercy on all our souls!”

  “2012,” Megan whispered.

  “It’s 2017,” Ramona snapped at the ridiculous myth.

  Megan burst into tears. “What are we going to do, Moe?”

  Is this shit for real? Ramona tightened the hug. “We’ll be fine. We’ll be fine…” Her worlds trailed off as realization sank in. They weren’t going to be fine. No one was going to be fine. But goddamn it, she wasn't ready to die yet. Ramona grabbed Megan’s clammy hand and dragged her addled best friend behind her. “We’ve got to get outta here, now.”

  Manic people scrambled through the streets screaming and begging for help. Rioters beat, robbed, and even killed each other just to take what the other had. It was all done in the name of survival. He who has the most supplies wins.

  Together, Ramona and Megan ran with no specific destination as they dodged the madness of their final night.

  Chapter Three

  After several hours of winding through the streets and alleys, zinging in and out of the growing mobs and looters, Ramona and Megan found themselves back in their own second story apartment, locked safely behind closed doors. Together, they sat on the loveseat of their otherwise bare home, reminiscing their lifetimes as they each dug through their own special shoebox full of photographs and random keepsakes.

  “Ohmigod! Remember this?” Meg presented a picture of them together wearing matching pajamas—a loose white halter and a pair of black short-shorts covered in red lipstick kisses. The same pajamas they wore now.

  “How could I forget? It was our first night in this apartment. We’d spent the last of our money on these pjs and had to eat hotdogs for the next two weeks!” Both girls laughed, although not a happy laughter. Morbid, like inappropriately laughing at a funeral. Ramona cast a sideways glance at the circle clock on the wall. Less than an hour.

  Ramona’s gaze drifted toward the window. She could hear the commotion outside as the looters continued to trek their way across the city. She shook her head. “You’d think those idiots would be taking shelter, or at home with their families praying, or something. It’s not a like a new stereo system and a brand new pair of Nikes is gonna save their asses when it comes down to it.”

  Megan sniffled as her eyes followed Ramona’s absentminded stare. “Maybe they're wrong? Maybe we will be just fine. Maybe it will miss?”

  Ramona pointed to the same window they watched from across the room. “You think the authorities would be letting that go on if there was a chance we weren’t about to get slammed into by a space rock?”

  Megan shrugged; fresh tears filled her eyes. “I suppose not…but maybe—”

  As if cued, a sonic boom rocked the apartment building. Ramona’s heart thumped against her ribs triple time. The building shook again, followed by a flash of explosive light that caused a temporary white out. Horrified screams of their neighbors filled her ears. Squealing tires and loud automobile crashes exploded from all directions. Smoke permeated her lungs as it drifted on the nighttime air and up into their apartment. They ran to the open window. Little fireballs sped toward Earth, no bigger than tennis balls, and lit the dark sky above the city as if it were the Fourth of July. It wouldn’t be long before Abaddon smashed into the surface now. The entire apartment complex shook violently. Ramona could hear the brick crumbling and giving away beneath the stress. Like a shattered mirror, spider-webbed cracks in the plaster split the thin apartment walls. They had to get out of there before the whole damn building collapsed.

  With no time to dress, Ramona and Megan slipped on their flip-flops and climbed down the fire escape. Fire and brimstone surrounded the city block. Neighboring buildings had already succumbed to the violent tremors, taking countless numbers of lives with them. No sooner than they cleared the rusty ladder, their own building let out a terrifying groan as the sound of snapping metal sent them across the street in a mad dash to escape the falling brick crumbling down behind them. The Earth trembled again, followed by another blinding flash, momentarily blurring Ramona's sight and confusing her sense of direction.

  Megan screamed, falling to her knees with her head in her hands. “I can’t see, Moe! My eyes are burning. The light, the smoke, it’s too much!”

  Ramona groaned aloud. One of the things she loved about Megan was quickly becoming one of the things she’d die hating. She was all female, and at times, too helpless in Ramona’s opinion. This was one of those times. Even though her eyes and throat burnt too, Ramona wasn’t about to fall over and give up. She’d go on, and dammit, so would Meg. “Get up, Meg. I don’t have time for you to be a sissy. Get up! Get your scrawny ass moving, or I’ll leave you here, so help me God!”

  Megan stuttered on her words. “But…but… I can't…”

  “Shut up and move!”

  Megan pushed herself up, a haughty sneer wrinkling her nose. “If we make it to Heaven, remind me to kick your ass.”

  A nearby woman screamed, her high pitch pleas for help barely audible above the panicked noise of the city, and random sonic booms still going off every few moments. Ramona squinted, turning in all directions to locate the source.

  “We don’t have time,” Megan whined.

  “We’ll make time. She’s close.” Ramona strained to hear. “I think I hear a baby crying.”

  The wind picked up, momentarily clearing the smoky haze from the widespread fires. Across the street, a young girl squatted before her mother. She couldn’t see if the woman was alive, but she could definitely see a naked infant in the arms of the young teen. “Holy shit, Meg. That woman just had a baby!” The two females raced toward the new mother and young girl at the curbside. “Please, let us help you,” Ramona shouted above the noise.

  The woman raised her head. Dirt smudged tears streamed down her bloodied face. “Save my children,” she begged. There was no fear in her brown eyes, only desperation. “Please, I know you can save my children.”

  Ramona nodded, swallowing an anxious lump. A nightmare. It was all a nightmare. Goddammit. Why? Why was this all happening? The infant cried weakly, no doubt suffocating on the heavy smoke. Her stomach flipped. Is there even a point to try? Fuck that. It wasn’t in her nature to give up easily. She extended a hand to the woman. “We will, ma’am. And you, too. Get up, please?”

  “Can you hold the baby? Is she too heavy for you?” Megan asked the frightened girl. The girl nodded vigorously. “Good. Follow us.” Megan wedged herself under the woman’s left side. “Moe, we’ll put her between us and support her.”

  “You need to stay
close,” Ramona told the teen as she slid beneath the woman’s right shoulder. “The umbilical cord is still attached to your mom. We’ll cut it as soon as we’re safe.”

  The foursome and one squalling infant went on for several more blocks. The ground tremors became nonstop. The Earth sundered beneath their feet. Paranoia, along with the dense smog, overcame Ramona. She searched in vain to find a safe location, noticing a handful of other people running into a corner convenience store. The single level brick building was damaged heavily outside, but appeared to be holding its own against the pure hell being thrown at it.

  It was their only chance—time to seek shelter and pray the bombardment of meteorites missed the little building, or keep dodging hysterical people, crashing cars, and burning buildings, while inevitably dying of smoke exposure. Another flash, followed by a large explosion, ripped through the night sky; a fresh hailstorm of meteorites rained down. One ball of fire landed a mere block over. The new mother in tow fell in and out of consciousness as blood drained down her legs and soaked her long jean skirt. Ramona signaled to Megan, pointing to the old brick building where she’d seen the small group of people filing into moments earlier. “We’ve got to get her to safety. She can’t make it any farther.”

  Megan nodded. By the relieved look on her face, she also thought it too dangerous to keep running the streets.

  Inside the convenience store, Ramona allowed Megan to take full weight of the woman and escort her down the stairs with the crowd, the young teen and infant in tow. Grabbing a few plastic grocery bags from behind the counter, Ramona quickly filled them with various dry goods, bottles of water, juices, diapers, a couple of baby bottles, even candy bars galore. Nothing she grabbed would fill anyone’s belly for long, but it was a source of calories to keep their bodies alive. A handy, cheap version of a Swiss army knife sitting on the register counter completed her survival list, and she made a dash for the basement to join the others below.