Icehole

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Icehole Page 23

by Kiera Dellacroix


  Another sound from behind alerted her to the presence of Dobson and she gloomily assessed her situation; she couldn’t drop them both in time to prevent one from reaching her. It was going to have to be a running battle. She smiled.

  “You’ll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn,” she sang softly and turned to run in the direction of Tanaka, leveling her shotgun as she closed the distance.

  Her rate of movement and the one handed grip on the shotgun affected her accuracy but the consequences of the nine semiautomatic blasts were devastatingly effective. The last two especially as they removed Tanaka’s head from the nose up, leaving him blind and flailing around aggressively.

  She didn’t pause and ran the last few feet as fast as she could, screaming loudly in rage as she ducked her right shoulder and ran into him with all the strength she had available. The collision proved fruitful and Malory managed to knock him off his feet, but couldn’t keep her balance as she bowled over him and fell painfully to the ground a few meters behind him, her shotgun skidding away from her.

  Her mind fought to overcome a powerful spell of nausea and she floundered several times in the attempt to regain her feet. As she fell to the floor on her third attempt, the impending blackness of unconsciousness threatened to take over and she struggled to stave it off.

  The struggle ended with an agonized rasp as she was lifted into the air by the belt that strapped her injured left arm to her side. Disorientated and helpless, she was manhandled roughly in the air until she abruptly found herself face to face with the demonic features of the late Dr. Dobson. A terrified power surged through her and she brought her good hand up to brutally claw into his eyes, digging in violently and tearing several nails off with the ferocity of her attack.

  One of his hands clamped around the back of her neck and she felt herself being drawn inexorably forward. She went into a Herculean frenzy of resistance, contorting madly in his grasp, screaming in fear as his mouth began to advance on her own.

  Suddenly, she went completely limp in his embrace and her head lolled backwards in apparent unconsciousness. An expression of macabre surprise crossed Dobson’s ruined features and he paused in obvious curiosity, studying the limp form that lay helpless within his grasp.

  His remaining eye blinked when pale blue eyes snapped open and regarded him savagely as a cool and unyielding object made contact with the roof of his gaping mouth.

  “All sales are final,” Malory rasped.

  The pointblank blast of the .45 scattered the back of Dobson’s head all over the ceiling and Malory landed on wobbly legs as the grip on her was released. Wasting no time, she backed up a step and took careful aim, extinguishing what was left of his vision with another roar from the handgun. She emptied the remaining rounds into his head with precision, moving a step with each shot in the direction of her misplaced shotgun, kneeling to retrieve it when the pistol locked open empty.

  Keeping a careful eye on the sightless Dobson as he cavorted recklessly around the hallway, she reloaded the shotgun and chambered a round. “I hope like hell that you feel pain,” she said hoarsely. “Because I really want this to hurt,” she added, leveling the weapon and moving forward single-mindedly.

  ———

  Corky looked up sharply at the sound of gunshots and blew out a relieved breath. She refused to subscribe to any theory that suggested Malory wasn’t the source of all the gunfire.

  McNeely rose to his feet and approached the door to the lab thoughtfully, leveling a hard stare on the vigorously determined Percy.

  “She’s out there,” Corky said loudly. “Let that fucker in and blow him away so we can go help her,” she added with a dismissive gesture in Percy’s direction.

  “Fuck that,” Watkins said cowardly. “If Lovecraft is alive, there’s nothing we can do for the bitch.”

  Several of the men rose to their feet angrily and Corky spun on her heel to level a homicidal glare in his direction. “You worthless, yellow pussy,” she hissed lividly, striding towards him dangerously and extending a hand. “Give me your rifle, you spineless shit.”

  He clutched the weapon to his chest possessively. “Fuck off, you little queer,” he said defiantly. “You ain’t got the balls for it.”

  The sound of several rifles cocking was startlingly loud and Watkins looked up to see every gun barrel in the room pointed at him steadily, the eyes behind shining blatantly with deadly intent.

  “Give her the weapon,” McNeely rumbled lethally. “Right now.”

  Watkins froze, excruciatingly aware that the threat outside now paled in comparison to the danger immediately confronting him.

  “I said now,” McNeely growled impatiently.

  He slowly extended the weapon in Corky’s direction and she snatched it out of his hands. “Asshole,” she hissed.

  “Chief, we’re gonna need some more cable,” McNeely said quietly, still looking down the length of his gun barrel at Watkins. “And a chair,” he added as an afterthought.

  “With pleasure, Sergeant Major,” Reynolds said cheerfully, lowering his rifle and ambling out of the room with a purpose.

  Watkins eyes widened. “Wait a minute now,” he said nervously. “You can’t…”

  “Shut the fuck up,” McNeely said slowly. “I can think of about twenty people I wish were here with us now instead of you.”

  “That ain’t no lie,” Alvarez rumbled. “We lost some damn good people and I’d grease you myself right now if I thought it would bring any of them back.”

  Reynolds walked back into the room guiding a rolling chair in front of him, which he shoved into Watkins knees. “Have a seat, Dr. Watkins,” he said casually.

  “You can’t do…” he started anxiously.

  His words were cut off by the impact of the Chief’s backhand and a flurry of distinctly unkind hands forced him into the chair, binding him tightly in place.

  “Don’t do this!” he screamed in panic.

  “Gag him,” McNeely said coldly and a few seconds later Watkins was silenced. “Place him against the wall in full view of the door,” he ordered.

  Watkins whimpered helplessly through his gag as he was rolled into place, his eyes darting around fearfully.

  “Alright,” McNeely said. “Form up, I’m going to let Percy in. If a stray round strikes Watkins, I’ll consider it an accident.”

  Alvarez and Reynolds turned slyly sinister smiles on the bound man.

  “Head and legs. Everything else is a waste of time,” McNeely reminded.

  He looked around to receive nods of readiness and walked for the door, closing to within three feet before grinding to a surprised halt. His eyes riveted upon the instantly recognizable black sombrero as Malory stepped into the foyer and leveled a one handed shotgun at the back of Percy’s head.

  “Malory!” Corky exclaimed joyfully.

  Percy turned as if perceiving a threat and the occupants inside the lab found themselves viewing a graphic portrait of blood, tissue, and bone as his head exploded onto the glass.

  The blood obscured the details of the resulting carnage as eight more rounds thundered through the room. At the last shot, McNeely overcame his paralysis and lunged forward to open the door.

  A tense moment later, Malory stepped in on shaky legs and attempted a weak smile in Corky’s direction. “Hail to the Queen, baby,” she rasped.

  Corky’s hands came to her mouth in concern as she got a close look at her lover, not knowing what injury to start fussing over first. Both of her eyes were blackened impressively from an obviously broken nose, the bruises so large they melted into the previous contusions she had suffered. Her left arm was strapped tightly to her body with a belt and her complexion was a sickly pale, not to mention the blood covering her from head to toe.

  She took a hesitant step forward and then broke into a run as Malory’s eyes rolled back and she began to collapse, saved from hitting the floor only by McNeely’s quick embrace.

  The Sergeant lowered her gently to the floor
and Corky fell to her knees beside her, hands flying over her body in diagnosis.

  “Get a stretcher,” she ordered tersely a moment later. “She’s in shock, we need to get her to Medical, right now.”

  “DeSoto, Daly,” McNeely ordered. “On the double!”

  The men rushed from the room and McNeely turned to Hanson. “Burn that piece of shit,” he said gesturing to Percy’s quivering remains. “The rest of you gear up, let’s make sure she got them all.”

  Corky barely heard the commotion going on around her as she tried to professionally detach herself from Malory’s injuries. She failed miserably and the tears fell from her eyes freely as she struggled to find a spot on her lover’s body that wasn’t beaten or bruised.

  As the flames from Percy’s body were extinguished, the stretcher arrived and the Commander was loaded onto it quickly. Corky slung her rifle over her shoulder and raced behind DeSoto and Daly as they hurried her lover out of the lab and down the hall.

  05/12/02 - 0920 hours

  Four hours later, McNeely watched dispassionately as Garret’s remains were reduced to ashes and Reynolds walked up beside him.

  “Fuckin’A, Doug,” the Chief whispered. “She got every one of ‘em.”

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, she did.”

  Reynolds let out a long breath. “Think she’ll be okay?”

  “I dunno,” he replied. “I fuckin’ hope so.”

  “So do I.”

  McNeely sighed. “Let’s get this place cleaned up and stowed away. We still have a few months before we can get the hell out of here. Start with the mess, I’m sure I’m not the only one hungry enough to eat the ass out of a rhino.”

  “Watkins is still in the lab,” he reminded amusedly.

  “Have someone tighten his restraints and wheel him into his quarters,” McNeely said maliciously. “Let him work his way free.”

  Reynolds grinned. “I believe Alvarez would volunteer for that.”

  A small chuckle. “I’ll bet,” he said. “We might also want to see to the belongings of everyone we lost.”

  “I’ll see to it,” Reynolds said sadly. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to Medical,” he said determinedly. “Have someone bring me a plate when chow is available.”

  “Will do,” Reynolds agreed. “I’d imagine everyone will be there as soon as they can.”

  McNeely nodded and turned to walk out of Operations, leaving Hanson and Ring to see to their grisly task.

  He found himself alone when he arrived at his destination, the divider drawn across the room. With a tired sigh, he seated himself to wait, all too aware of the steady beep of monitoring equipment hidden behind the curtain.

  ———

  McNeely was startled awake by a nudge from the Chief, who offered him a hot plate of food and sank into the chair next to him. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and was surprised to find everyone but Watkins present.

  “Thanks,” he grumbled. “What time is it?”

  “1400.”

  “Any word?”

  “Not yet,” Reynolds said quietly.

  He grunted. “Everything squared away?”

  “It’s a work in progress,” the Chief said. “It’ll be a few days.”

  A nod. “I guess it’s time to bite the bullet,” he announced reluctantly, rising to his feet and setting his plate in the chair before warily slipping behind the divider.

  His eyes instantly landed on the unconscious Commander and he winced in sympathy as she was rendered almost unrecognizable by the metal cast taped across her nose. A thin sheet was tucked meticulously around her body and he followed the IV trail to her arm, where he found the doctor asleep. Corky was slumped over in a chair by the bedside, her face resting on the mattress next to Malory’s hand. He approached quietly and knelt next to the slumbering doctor, nudging her gently.

  She snapped awake instantly. “Malory,” she said hopefully, her eyes anxiously searching.

  “Doctor,” he said softly, alerting her to his presence and she jumped in surprise. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly.

  “It’s alright,” she mumbled sleepily.

  “How is she?” he asked guardedly.

  She turned tired eyes in his direction. “She’s gonna be okay,” she choked out, her voice cracking.

  He blew out a long, relieved breath. Not getting the chance to speak as Corky’s face crumbled and she launched herself into his arms, crying tears of worry and relief. “Oh, hey,” he soothed, surprised to find the little doctor clinging to him desperately. “It’s all over now.”

  The men nearby overheard snippets of the conversation and recognized the unmistakable sounds of Corky crying, they muttered among themselves in agitation.

  “If the Commander doesn’t make it,” Alvarez rumbled darkly. “I’m going to execute Watkins just for the fuck of it.”

  A few mumbles of agreement met his words and several minutes later, the Sergeant Major emerged from behind the divider. All eyes rose expectantly.

  McNeely smiled and shoulders slumped universally in relief. “She’s gonna be out it for awhile, but she’ll pull through.”

  “Is there anything we can do, Sergeant?” Clovis asked.

  “I’m glad you asked that,” McNeely said gratefully. “Dr. Rivers will be staying in Medical for the foreseeable future so I’d like you to pack her a bag and grab her a cot. Also, someone go grab her something to eat, I’d imagine she’s pretty hungry.”

  The men jumped to their feet.

  “Oh, one more thing,” he added nonchalantly. “Someone go tighten the ropes on Watkins and put a plate of food just out of his reach.”

  “I’ll do that,” Alvarez said quickly, turning to leave the room.

  “Mr. Alvarez,” McNeely said before he could leave.

  “Yes?”

  “Make sure you leave the faucet dripping too.”

  The Tech Sergeant smiled widely.

  05/15/02 - 1530 hours

  Corky bent over her patient studiously, squinting through magnifying lenses as she carefully placed the stitches. She had never sewn a head back on, mostly because the act itself seemed like an exercise in futility, but this was a special case. It was her hope that the endeavor would leave undetectable scars and she went through great pains to make her stitches as small as possible. So intense was her concentration, that she failed to notice the blue eyes that fluttered open behind her.

  Malory immediately squinted in response to the bright light situated above her and she spent a few minutes adjusting. When she was able to open her eyes completely, the first thing she noticed was the obstruction on her face and a hand rose to investigate.

  “Oww,” she squeaked piteously when she poked herself harder than she intended.

  Corky’s head came up immediately and she turned in her chair hopefully, her face lighting up happily as she met Malory’s open eyes.

  “Hey,” she said softly, a ridiculous smile on her face that she couldn’t control.

  “Hey,” Malory rasped hoarsely, trying a smile that rapidly turned into a scowl. “It hurts to smile.”

  “I know,” Corky said sympathetically, turning to discreetly cover her other patient with a sheet. “Let me get you some juice to drink,” she added merrily, bouncing across the room to a little refrigerator.

  “Okay.”

  Malory crossed her eyes in an attempt to view her nose until Corky approached and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “Apple juice, alright?”

  “Sure,” she replied and was instantly force-fed a straw.

  “Suck,” Corky demanded playfully.

  Malory did as she was told, watching the doctor with wary eyes.

  When Corky had determined that she had consumed an acceptable amount, she withdrew the straw.

  “You’re smiling at me,” Malory said quietly. “I take it I’m going to live?”

  “Yep,” Corky said brightly.

  “How bad is my shoulder?” she aske
d fearfully.

  “It was just dislocated,” Corky replied quickly. “Nothing was broken or torn.”

  Malory released the breath she was holding in relief but then looked at Corky suspiciously. “Then why do I feel so bad?”

  “You lost a lot of blood,” Corky replied. “Most of it internal. You broke three ribs, they were piercing you on the inside.”

  “Oh,” Malory whispered thoughtfully. “What’s with the shit on my face? Will I end up looking like the Elephant Man?”

  Corky giggled. “Nope, in a few weeks you’ll be as pretty as ever.”

  “Really?” Malory asked hopefully.

  “Really.”

  “Do you have a mirror?”

  “Why?”

  “I want to see.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Please.”

  Corky rolled her eyes. “You won’t like what you see.”

  “You said it would heal, right?” Malory asked suspiciously.

  “Yes,” Corky drawled slowly.

  “Then let me see.”

  Corky wavered uncertainly, but sighed and crossed the room to retrieve a hand mirror. “Remember, you’ll soon be as good as new. I promise,” she said reluctantly and held the mirror in front of Malory’s face.

  A gasp and Malory swatted the mirror away. “I look like the ass end of a roadkill,” she said babyishly.

  Corky smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Whatever,” Malory said sulkily. “How long do I have to lie here?”

  “A while yet,” Corky replied easily.

  A childish sigh.

  “I missed you,” Corky said softly, leaning over to place another kiss on her forehead.

  “Do you love me?” Malory whispered.

  “More than anything in the world.”

  “Okay, I’ll lie here for a few days,” she announced generously.

  Corky chuckled. “You don’t have much choice in the matter.”

  “But what if I need to… uhm… shake the dew off my lily?” she asked hesitantly.

  Corky smiled and reached down to produce a bedpan.

  Malory’s eyes widened in horror. “No way,” she said determinedly.

 

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