Chapter 18: The Indignation Of The Lord

The candles flickered in the gentle breeze, the breeze that wasn't really there, a figment of her imagination just like the man who spoke to her from behind. Her eyes opened and she looked upon the items in the sink, the empty shell casing that had been a blank, fired during an orchestrated game of Cambodian roulette, and a knife used to take many lives for a cause she no longer believed in. She held her hands together tightly in prayer, as though her faith in God might dispel the machinations that haunted her for her sins, but it was no use. Deep down, she knew that. These imaginings tormented her more and more by the day. She wasn't sure how much longer she could endure them.

"You know how this ends, Rosarita," the man told her. He had come from Havana to track her down when she was hunting the Grey Fox unit in Roanapur. His voice sent shivers down her spine, the image of his bottom jaw and the remnants of his skull smashed against the concrete burned into her mind. "You can't run from your sins, even in this city. They will follow you everywhere you go. We both know that. And now, you've brought the boy here, too. Does he really deserve to suffer the consequences of your actions?"

"My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord," Roberta prayed, ignoring the poisonous words that hammered her relentlessly. "My spirit rejoices in God my saviour, for He has looked with favour on His lowly servant."

"You keep praying to your God," another voice came, the Japanese man who appeared to her still, despite her best efforts to atone for his murder and find peace. Having met with his family, she believed she could rest easy and put her sins behind her. But she learned the hard way that guilt was not so easily quelled, and her sins were mounting upon her with great weight. "But it doesn't change the fact that Garcia is very much in danger. You know too well what this city can do to a gentle soul like him. You remember, don't you? How it twisted your mind and fuelled the beast inside you? This is a very dark place."

"From this generation all will call me blessed," Roberta continued. "The Almighty has done great things for me."

"The boy, Rosarita!" the first man said, firmer now than he had been before. It would not take long for Roberta to crack and give in to him. "Have you forgotten about the boy?! Everything you did was to keep him from harm, to spare him from the darkness. But everything you do now brings him closer to their world."

"You don't think I know that?!" Roberta cried, still on her knees facing the sink but very much involved in the conversation now. Her prayers would shield her no more. "The Young Master…he should not be here. I tried everything I could to keep him from this city. He will not come to harm as long as I am here."

"Is that so?" the man from Havana asked, unconvinced. "Perhaps you forget what happened the last time, then. If memory serves, the Japanese man from Lagoon Company pulled on your strings and made you dance to his tune. That tune cost Garcia his innocence and resulted in a bullet to the stomach. All because of your hunt for the Foxes."

"The Foxes!" Roberta hissed. "I needed to…I needed to protect the Young Master, I needed to avenge his father. I…"

"What's done is done," the Japanese man interrupted. "In the end, the sin was his, and you went home to live in peace. But that did not change things. There is still blood on your hands, isn't there?" Roberta shut her eyes as if that action would make her victims disappear. Predictably, it would not, and she would be forced to live out this nightmare until it came to its natural conclusion.

"I met with your family, you know," Roberta said softly, recalling the day vividly. After she had come home from Roanapur, Garcia welcomed the Japanese man's family into his home and they sat with Roberta for a while to speak with her. They understood his death, and there was naturally a lot of anger and grief, but it seemed to end amicably and Roberta felt they may have actually forgiven her. Still, that was not enough, apparently. His ghost would aggravate her still.

"I know," he answered. Of course he did, he was a figment of her imagination, nothing more. But it helped to speak to him like he was actually here, like this whole situation was playing out in real time. It gave Roberta a chance to try and explain herself if it meant she could have some semblance of peace after all of this was over and done with. "And they did not hold any grudges against you for what you did. It seemed like they could have even been happy to meet you, to understand why you took my life." Roberta managed a minimal smile, but it was very brief.

"And yet here you are," she told him. "Every time I close my eyes, I see you. No matter what I do, you haunt me without mercy!"

"You have only yourself to blame, Rosarita," the first man said. "When that boy falls to the darkness and loses his way, it will be because of your actions. He bears the weight of your sins, now, because you couldn't allow him to live in peace. And in forcing him to follow you to this city, you've taken away any chance of having that peace for yourself, too."

"Shut up!" Roberta spat at him.

"You've taken enough lives," the Japanese man remarked bluntly. "When all is said and done, my friend, here, is right. There's only one way this ends, one way the boy can have peace…and that is if you are no longer around to share your sins with him."

Roberta's eyes widened. Still facing the other way, she felt a ball in her throat like a lead weight as she realised what the two apparitions were implying. She could not give up so easily and take her own life to spare Garcia the pain of sharing the weight of her sins. She could not cause him that pain, not when he had lost so much already…could she? No, this was what they wanted. They were here to torment her, imaginative representations of the pain she had caused, intent on dragging her into the darkness for good. She could not heed their encouragements, no matter how convincing they were. Roberta closed her eyes again and the faces of many appeared before her. She saw the Japanese man that had been killed and taunted with a torn up photo of his family, the man from Havana with the majority of his head smashed to pulp, the American soldiers pinned to trees with steel rods. She remembered Kane Archibald, the mercenary and warlord who had been intent on destruction, shot in the face and his reign of terror ended by the Bloodhound. There was much pain in Roberta's past, too much for one person, and it was becoming nigh impossible to bear. How could she go on knowing Garcia would be forced to atone for her sins as long as she remained by his side?

"You will not get the better of me," Roberta told the apparitions, still facing away from them. "Not this time. The Young Master…he needs me. And I will not abandon him, not now. I will stand proudly by his side and I would gladly die for him if I had to!" Her monologue was swiftly put to a stop by the sudden sound of whistling. Roberta heard footsteps from behind her. A new tormenter had come to chastise her for her mistakes, it seemed, only she knew not who it was. The Wolf strode from the darkness with a red glint in his eyes, coming to a stop directly behind her. She turned her head to the side, spotting him there with his arms spread out from his body and a smile on his face. Fangs bared, he stared at her like a true wolf stares at its prey. Her heart sank.

"What have we here?" the assassin asked. "A lost little lamb on the way down to hell. How unfortunate."

"I…but, how-"

"When I came to see the Bloodhound," the assassin cut across her, "I was expecting something else. But you're not a bloodhound, not anymore. And you're not a stray wolf, either. You're just a sheep that wandered too far from the others. And what do we do with sheep?" The Wolf reached his arm around her and grabbed the front of her black dress, dragging her from her knees with one hand until she was almost at his height. He wore the clothes he had been wearing when he went after Ashur, the clothes he wore when he shot Roberta and tried to kill her, unaware who she was. She remembered that day and an incredible dread welled up within her. Here, in this place, she was no longer maimed and her abilities would have served her well. But the power of this room and the force that showed her these people stayed her hand and she was forced to watch as the assassin continued. "Look at my face and tell me what you see."

Roberta did not answer, but the Wolf was clearly expecting a response.

"This…this isn't real," Roberta said in a panicked voice, denying her mind the power to punish her anymore. Regardless, the scene continued to play out. "You're not real!"

"Look at me!" the Wolf snapped. "You might not remember what you told me, but I do. You sent me out there after the lost puppy and I came back like this. Just another sin to add to the list."

"I told you only what you deserved to know," Roberta pleaded. "I couldn't have kept that from you."

"And what good did it do?" Wolf asked. "In the end, you woke up the beast inside me. I may not have come back to Roanapur in a body bag, but I'm sure as shit not the same Wolf you knew. And you can blame yourself, like always. You'll be lucky if I don't put a bullet in Garcia's head just to spare him the trouble of looking after you." He released her and she fell to her knees again. Before she could respond to him, he had taken his Desert Eagle in one hand and pointed it to her forehead. The other two looked on in satisfaction. They may not have been able to pressure her into shooting herself to escape this, but it seemed an execution from a once close friend would do the trick just as well. The Wolf smiled at her menacingly and the last thing she saw before he shot her was that red glare in his eyes as the truly twisted monster he had become took pleasure in agonising her.

When she awoke, she jerked forward and some of the water from the bathtub spilled out onto the floor. She placed her single maimed hand on her chest and steadied her breathing, happy that her torture was over at last. It was not the first nightmare she had had, nor would it be the last. The thought of reliving that particular experience worried her greatly. Upon hearing the sound of commotion, Garcia rushed into the room.

"Roberta!" he said hastily. "Is everything alright? I heard a noise."

"I am fine, Young Master," she told him, leaning back in the tub and resting her head against the porcelain.

"Oh. Oh!" the boy exclaimed, suddenly aware that he was intruding. "I'm sorry, Roberta, I didn't mean-"

"No, no, it's alright," she assured him, the majority of her body below the waterline and concealed with foam and bubbles. She was not uncomfortable in his presence. Far from it, in fact. He was the only person who truly made her feel at ease and while it was true that he was growing up and that boyhood innocence and youthful gentleness was leaving him, he was retaining the genuine compassion and goodness in his heart that made him so special. It moved Roberta to see him hold onto his humanity when so many others had lost it in this city.

"Master Garcia," she said before he left the room. "Would you stay a while? I would enjoy the company."

"Of course," he told her, surprised but not content to leave her alone when something was clearly causing her distress. He hopped up onto the stool behind her and grabbed a cloth from the rack. He then gently placed a hand on her shoulder, urging her to lean forward, which she did. He soaked the cloth in bathwater and started to wipe it up and down her back. It must have been difficult for her considering the injuries she had sustained while trying to wipe out the members of Grey Fox but Garcia was more than happy to help her. Despite the current situation, he did not let his eyes wander and focused on the task at hand. He bore too much love and respect for her.

"Thank you," she said softly as he continued to bathe her. It was soothing to just be in his presence, despite what her imagination tried to tell her, and she was happier than she had been in some time just enjoying the quiet and peace. Naturally, her mind did go to the events of her nightmare and the concerns festering within her bubbled up within. It was difficult to ignore them these days.

"Master Garcia," she began awkwardly. He continued with his task as she spoke. "Do you remember what you told me after I…after you came to find me? T-the first time, I mean." Garcia slowed his movement briefly, surprised by this topic of conversation, but he resumed bathing her shortly.

"I told you I would help you bear the burden of your sins," he said, recalling the day she had been irreparably damaged by the American soldiers. "Is that what's bothering you?" Roberta went silent and she fiddled with the crucifix, still draped around her neck.

"I do not want you to bear that weight, Young Master," she told him. "My sins are my own. It is not fair for me to force that burden upon you. I alone must atone for them."

"'We have sinned, and we will pay for our sins when our time comes. But we will pay for them together, as we have sinned together.'" Roberta frowned in confusion. "Pius told me that. I love you, Roberta. You're my family and I will stay by your side as long as you live. 'The sin is mine', remember? We've both sinned, and we will bear that burden. But it won't be a burden anymore, because we will bear it together. I promise." Roberta shut her eye and clutched the crucifix tightly. It was all she could do not to become emotional. The Young Master was far too kind for her to deserve him. But she loved him dearly and she would treasure every moment they spent together, as long as they both still lived. She would do everything in her power to make sure he could live in peace, even if she could not.

"Yes, Young Master."