by Susanne Beck
Raising her free hand, Cassandra backhanded Josephina then raised her knife, its cruel edge glittering in the harsh fluorescents.
Things seemed to flow in slow motion from that point. Again, Ice and Sandra stepped forward simultaneously. With one hand, Ice pushed the guard away, while grabbing at the descending knife with the other. Sandra was thrown back into the crowd of guards while Ice, Cassandra and Josephina became locked in a deadly embrace.
Ice had at least five inches and fifty pounds on her skinny opponent, but Cassandra had the strength of an insane rage backing her up. The battle for control of the knife quickly became a stalemate, with Ice’s hand locked around Psycho’s wrist while Cassandra was trying desperately to plunge the knife into any bit of warm flesh she could.
The two women grinned fiercely at one another, obviously getting some sort of perverse enjoyment out of their dance of death. The thought chilled me inside as I attempted to reconcile this Ice with the one I’d shared my dreams with just moments ago. It wasn’t an easy match, I have to tell you.
I turned once again to Critter, who was watching the scene with fascination. "Why don’t they do something?" I asked, gesturing to the guards who were, like my friend, motionless as they watched the battle taking place just scant feet in front of them.
Critter looked down at me and shrugged again. "I dunno. Maybe they’re trying to figure out what to do?"
"This is ridiculous," I commented, turning my attention back to the action. Cassandra’s arm was shaking visibly with her attempt to plunge the knife downward against the implacable strength of Ice’s sure grasp. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and then a truly evil smile spread over her features. A slight nudge with her free arm was all it took to send Josephina stumbling over into Ice, who reflexively caught the sobbing woman, also with her free arm.
That minute distraction was all Cassandra needed as she twisted her wrist sharply, breaking free of Ice’s hold. The knife glittered again, then continued its aborted plunge downward. There was a loud scream, and when the weapon again appeared, it was coated with blood.
"NO!" I screamed, beyond sure that Ice had been the recipient of the deadly thrust. I started forward, only to be pulled back by Critter’s strong hold on me.
Cassandra threw back her head and laughed, a truly terrifying sound. As she stepped away, Josephina slumped into Ice’s arms, blood pouring from the wound in her chest. The look of shock on Ice’s face was intense as she looked from Cassandra’s cackling form down to the bloody woman in her arms. She bore Josephina gently to the ground, a small moan coming from deep in her chest, as the guards chose that moment to attack.
"Oh yes!" Cassandra purred. "I just love pig roasts, don’t you? C’mon, piggies. Who’s first to die today?" She swung her knife back and forth in viscous sweeps. The guards jumped back, uncertain, and Cassandra laughed again. "Come on, where’s that bravery you pat each other on the back for having, hmmmm? It only hurts a little! Just ask my little friend here!" Her screaming mirth filled the prison.
Another guard ran to assist Ice, who slammed an elbow into her gut, sending her back over to her fellows. With one large hand covering the blood-drenched wound, Ice used the other to tenderly brush back the sweat-soaked hair from Josephina’s brow. "Just hang on," she murmured. "Help’s on the way. Just hang on."
"That’s right, Josephina," Cassandra yelled, still swinging her knife to keep the guards at bay, "listen to our dear Ice. Hang on, won’t you? I wouldn’t want you to miss even one second of your glorious death."
I looked on in absolute horror as Ice brought down her other hand to join the first in its futile attempt to staunch the flow of blood draining from Josephina’s wound. Blood pumped from between her fingers in a red river, continuing unabated even after my friend had put almost all her strength into the pressure hold.
The wounded woman was still conscious, though barely, her face a doughy white. She and Ice were carrying on a murmured conversation that was too soft for me to hear. My heart clenched at the look of grief on Ice’s normally stoic features. Who was this woman that she could etch those deep lines across the tableau of my companion’s beautiful face?
Ice’s dark head slowly lowered. Her head turned as if to listen to barely whispered words. From where I was standing, I could see Josephina’s striking features go slack as her body relaxed beneath Ice’s large form.
"Noooooooooooooooooooo!"
The mournful howl echoed through the cavernous building, seeming to gather strength as it rebounded off cement walls and steel doors, filling the space around us all with a haunting melody of loss.
The wail cut off abruptly as Ice slowly rose, looking down at her blood covered hands as if they belonged to someone else entirely. I caught just the faintest glimpse of her expression as her head raised in the direction of Cassandra and I swear my heart stopped dead in my chest. She’s going to kill her. My God, she’s going to murder Psycho with her bare hands!
One step forward and Ice obliterated Cassandra’s wrist with a kick, sending the butcher knife spinning through the air to land against the far wall with such force that the blade snapped from the hilt with the ease of a twig being broken. Continuing her forward momentum, she reached her bloody hands out and wrapped them around Cassandra’s neck, bearing the still laughing woman off her feet and pinning her up against the barred door that protected the entrance to the segregation unit.
The back of Cassandra’s skull hit the metal bars with a resounding clang as her own arms came up, feebly attempting to loosen my friend’s strangle hold. The grin was still firmly in place on her face, though her skin had begun to turn a ruddy color.
Sandra jumped forward quickly. "No, Ice! Let her go! Let us take care of her!" The last of her plea was lost in a gust of breath as Ice’s foot connected with her chest, sending her flying back through the air to land against some of her fellow guards who were bowled back like tenpins trying to catch her hurtling body.
"Stay back!" Ice screamed. "I’m gonna give this bitch exactly what she deserves!"
"Ice, no!!" Sandra ran forward again, more cautiously this time. "Ice, please. Think about what you’re doing. Don’t do this. Please!"
"Get back! Don’t come any closer, Sandra. I don’t wanna hurt you too."
"Don’t do this, Ice!"
As I struggled against Critter’s tight hold, I could see Ice’s knuckles whiten as she squeezed her hands ever tighter around Cassandra’s thin neck. Her captive’s face was slowly turning from ruddy to ashen, her eyes wide and staring. Still she smiled as if death were a friend she was beckoning closer with each heaving try for breath.
A murmur started through the heretofore silent crowd and when I looked around, my eyes set upon the figure of the warden, making his first ever appearance within the prison proper. He wore a black suit over a blindingly white shirt, a large golden cross pinned garishly to his left lapel. Bulling his way to the front of the crowd, he took in the scene, hands on his hips. His face was red as old brick and a temple vein throbbed prominently. "What’s going on here? Guards! Separate those two women now!!"
Sandra turned to look at him, an expression of frustration plainly evident on her face. "We’re trying, sir. It’s not as easy as it looks."
"It doesn’t look like you’re trying at all, Ms. Pierce. Now do your job and separate these women or I’ll find someone who will!"
The head guard turned back to the scene, twirling her baton. "Please, Ice! I can’t give you any more chances here! Think about what you’re doing! Please, I’m begging you. Let her go! Please!"
"Separate them now, Ms. Pierce!"
"Ice! Let her go! I don’t want to hurt you!"
"Now, Ms. Pierce! Do it now!" The warden looked around at the other guards. "All of you! Now!!!"
"Ice! This is it! Last chance! Please!"
When Ice gave no signs of having heard, Sandra let out a huge sigh of defeat, turned slightly to the rest of the guards, and nodded. "Try not to hurt her."
As Sandra stepped forward, prepared to lead the charge, the warden grabbed her by her baton and pulled her up short. "Now see here, Ms. Pierce. I don’t care if you have to break every bone in that murderer’s body. Just do your job, do you hear me?"
When Sandra opened her mouth to begin a counter-argument, I saw my chance and took it. Lifting up my foot, I slammed it down hard on top of Critter’s instep, and when the pain made her loosen her hold on me, I bolted, using every ounce of defensive training the Amazons had taught me to rush through the restraining crowd and into the center of the action.
The warden and Sandra made a last ditch effort to catch me, but I used a whirling chop-block I had been perfecting and slipped through their defenses like oil through water, inordinately proud of myself. I skidded to a stop just feet from Ice. From this distance, I could easily see that we were just about out of time. Cassandra’s lips were blue and her eyes were wide and bulging from the pressure on her neck. That damn, smirking smile was still on her face and I wanted, at that moment, to do nothing more than to reach up and slap it off.
"Ice, it’s Angel," I began, using my voice like a hypnotist would use a pocket-watch, trying to calm the unfettered beast my friend had become. "Don’t do this. Please. Killing her won’t bring your friend back no matter how much you wish it would. You know that. Please don’t make things worse."
"Get out of here Angel." Ice’s voice was guttural, raw with rage and grief.
"Sorry, Ice, but I’m not going anywhere. You don’t want to do this. Please, just let her go."
"Oh, you’re wrong, Angel. I very much wanna do this." Her muscles tensing, Ice lifted Cassandra higher, slamming her body once again against the steel bars, which rattled, protesting. Her grip loosened for a brief instant, allowing Cassandra to gasp in a breath. The blonde woman tried to say something but it was lost as her air supply was once again choked off. I couldn’t believe how she’d managed to last this long against Ice’s rage-fueled strength.
I could hear the guards shifting behind me and knew I didn’t have much time. "Ice, remember what we just talked about. About dreams. About how no one can take them away from you. Don’t do this, Ice. Don’t let her take your dreams away from you."
I kept my voice smooth and steady, my cadence deliberate. I could see my words were having some effect by the minute lessening of tension in her broad shoulders. Taking a huge gamble, I reached up and put my hand on her back, rubbing gently as I’d done just a short time earlier in the yard. "That’s it, Ice. Let her go. It’s alright. It’ll be alright. Just let her go."
The warden’s screamed command to attack was drowned out by the huge gasp of breath from Cassandra as Ice’s hands loosened their deadly grip around her neck.
Hands slashing almost too quickly for the eye to follow, Ice caught Cassandra’s slumping body and tossed her the length of the corridor, where she landed in a heap against the far wall. Turning quickly, Ice shoved me behind her long frame as the guards began a concerted rush toward us, the warden, baton in hand, in the lead. Reaching out, Ice caught the baton and hauled the warden up to her, their bodies just inches apart.
The other guards came to abrupt halts as they watched the new scene unfold.
"Don’t touch me." Ice enunciated her words clearly from between clenched and bared teeth.
The warden’s eyes went wide as his face became distinctly pale. Curious, I watched from my safe vantage point behind Ice. "You’re going to the hole for a month for this infraction, Ms. Steele. Release me or I’ll make it two."
"Touch me, Warden Morrison, and I’ll send you to a hole of your very own. Permanently."
"Are you threatening me, Ms. Steele?"
"No, Warden Morrison. I’m just giving you the facts."
Setting himself, Morrison yanked his baton hard, the smirk on his face freezing when the weapon didn’t budge in the slightest. Though the situation was immanently explosive, I found myself having to hide my own smirk behind Ice’s back.
"Call off the dogs, Warden, and I’ll turn myself over to Sandra peacefully. Do we have a deal?"
"What makes you think I make deals with murderers, Ms. Steele? Despite what you and others might think, I control the prison here, not you. I could have you beaten senseless in the blink of an eye."
Though I couldn’t see it, I just knew that one of Ice’s elegant brows had just made a dramatic elevation. "Try it." Her voice was a sultry purr and my flesh pricked in unconscious reaction to the seductive tone.
I could literally feel the energy both of them were giving off as their wills battled. Though I knew Ice could easily follow through on her threat without blinking an eye, I could also sense the coiled tension in her body as she fought down her primal instincts to fully disarm the man and be done with it.
After several long, tense moments, I could see the warden’s shoulders sag as he took a slight step backwards, conceding the round. "Very well, Ms. Steele. No one will hurt you. But realize this. You have just made yourself one very large enemy. Your time won’t go quite so lightly from here on out. And that, my dear, is not a threat. I’m just stating a fact."
Ice nodded slowly, then released the baton back to the warden. I could feel her muscles tense as if expecting a blow. I tensed as well, ready to jump in if needed. Not that I ever would be, mind you, but it felt good to know that I had the skills, in any case.
Sandra and another guard rushed forward, each taking one of Ice’s arms and forestalling any retaliatory action the warden might have been wont to take. Two other guards grabbed Cassandra’s unconscious body and dragged her down toward the stairs.
"Sixty days in isolation for each of them," Morrison ordered. "And Ms. Pierce, when you return, please come to my office. We need to seriously discuss your lack of . . .preparedness in these situations."
Sandra’s shoulders slumped. "Yes, sir."
"Oh, and one more thing."
"Yes, sir?"
Morrison smirked, flinging a negligent hand toward Josephina’s body. "Get someone to take out the trash, will you?"
The crowd dispersed as Ice and Cassandra were led away surrounded by guards. Standing there, I watched Ice, head held high and proud, as if surrounded again by a retinue instead of guards intent on making sure she didn’t escape. The idea of two months in utter isolation and total darkness didn’t seem to faze her one bit, and I shook my head at the wonder of it all. I also knew that I would miss her, badly.
Our interaction in the yard had given me a very good feeling about the direction our relationship was heading in and I very much wanted to continue down that path with her if only to see where it would eventually lead.
With a dejected sigh, I turned to find myself faced with Josephina’s body lying, alone, on the floor, a pool of thickening blood surrounding her tattered jumpsuit. Her eyes were open; glassy and staring forever into eternity. Stepping around the pool of blood, I squatted down and closed her lids, sending out a silent prayer to whatever higher power might be listening.
Pushing her way through the final knot of prisoners, Critter limped her way over to where I knelt, waiting silently off to the side while I finished my prayer. When she sensed I was done, she reached down a hand to help me to my feet. I brushed off the knees of my jumpsuit, then flashed her a rueful smile. "Sorry about your foot."
She returned the grin, winking at me. "Not a problem. I’ll have to remember that move."
"You should. You’re the one who taught it to me."
"I was? I must be a better teacher than I thought." My friend looked quite pleased with herself. Then her face turned somber as she looked down at Josephina’s body. "What a mess."
I nodded in agreement. "I wonder who she was. It’s obvious she and Ice were friends at some point."
"Maybe Corinne would know?"
"Maybe. I just don’t think I’m ready to face her, or anyone else, right now. I think I’m just gonna go back to my cell and think about things."
Critter nodded, clasping my shoulder. "You d
id good up there, Angel. I don’t think anyone else would have been able to talk Ice down in the state she was in. You prevented a bloodbath. Great job."
The compliment should have pleased me, but it didn’t. I’d seen much too much of the dark side of humanity this day. I needed a long time alone to process things before I could even begin to believe that what I’d done had been for the best. Still, I nodded, reaching up to squeeze my friend’s hand as I did so. "Thanks, Critter."
"See you later, Angel."
I stood there for a long moment, watching Critter’s golden curls disappear back down the stairs. Taking one last long look at Josephina, I turned and made may back to my cell, just managing to get inside before I broke down.
It was a long time before sleep came to claim me.
* * *
My sleep, when it came, was bathed in sweat-soaked dreams of violence and death. They ran pell-mell through my mind, as dreams often will, making little or no sense to the conscious mind, but spelling out easily deciphered messages to the unconscious will. For the first time in months, Peter featured prominently in them, though his killer was as often Ice and/or Cassandra as it was me. I relived his death over and over again, running through tight knots of laughing people, always getting there just a split-second too late and finding him, slumped and bleeding, in my arms. Always that accusing stare haunted me.
The last was by far the worst. It started out peacefully enough. Ice and I were sitting, unclothed, in the middle of the yard. Though I should have been uncomfortable at the exposure, I wasn’t, for some reason. I felt completely safe. At peace, even, and I welcomed that feeling after the nightmares previous to it. She was facing away from me and I was stroking the velvet soft skin of her back, marveling at the texture of warm, pliant flesh over hard muscle and bone. The slight breeze brushed the scent of her into my nostrils and I breathed deep of it with a sigh of contentment.
I remember talking, though I don’t remember the subject. Something unimportant and nonsensical to be sure, thought it seemed profound at the time. She sat, unmoving, accepting my touches and words, her raven hair falling in soft waves to lay against her full breasts. Shifting slightly, I could see the breeze flutter the dark tendrils, giving me the briefest of glimpses of what I suddenly needed to see more of. Putting my hand on her shoulder, I turned her upper body toward mine, my other hand already moving of it’s own volition toward her chest to brush the hair away. It stopped, frozen, as I looked into her face to see death staring back at me. Her eyes had become Josephine’s, then Peter’s, then Cassandra’s, before switching back to her own vivid blue. Her stare empty and hollow and dead, but accusing just the same. Blood dripped slowly from the corner of her mouth and when she opened it to speak, her flashing white teeth stained red with blood, I screamed.
