Phoenix:
6.
Valkyrie
2004
Serpiente Rojo, Spain
Ashley stared at her hands, so small, so ineffectual. The dried blood on them taunted her. She'd hurt him. She'd hurt him. She'd hurt him. It kept repeating in her head.
The subtle tracing of black veins in her arms alarmed her. The necrotic filth in her body was running through her like blood now. It was in her from head to heart to bones. How long did she have? A few hours? What happened when she turned?
Would she kill Leon?
The horror had her breaking under the pressure. She put her face in her hands and cried, ashamed and unable to stop it. She wept copiously, her soft sounds loud in the quiet room. She was so into she didn't hear the door open until the footsteps stopped beside the couch.
She grabbed the knife on her thigh, and his voice cautioned, "Easy, easy. It's me."
Ashley lifted her face from her hands. She held them out to him like a child reaching out for reassurance, "What's happening to me?"
The soft pity on his face made it worse. She cracked, her face crumbling, as she pleaded, "I'm so sorry. I wasn't me. I couldn't stop it. How can I be inside me and not stop myself!?"
Leon soothed gently, "I don't know. But Luis does. He does. He's out there working toward that. Right now."
"It was like having a hand up my ass, Leon. Like a puppet on strings, I couldn't get back control. It felt like...like someone was pulling me, pushing me, and then my head...my head was so light...I fought...but it just burned. And the things in my head...he believes, Leon. He believes he's righteous. He believes he's good...how can something so evil believe it's good?"
"Monsters don't need a good reason, Ashley," he studied her face, "they just do what they want."
"He doesn't just want to use me; he wants me to believe in him." She looked at him pitifully as she added, "And he wants you to, too."
"I don't give a fuck what he wants."
She shook her head, "I don't think it matters, Leon. I don't think it does. Because when he's inside you...you will."
"You think I'll let him?"
Her eyes leaked as she held his and declared sadly, "You won't be able to stop it. Leon...you can't stop it. This thing in us...it will get us both if Luis doesn't get it out. We're running out of time. I know it. I can feel it in me."
She wept, and her lips quivered, "I can feel it moving in me...like a worm...or a monster baby..." her eyes held his as she confided miserably, "I don't want to die, Leon. I don't want to die. But I can't be this thing. I can't. I'd rather be dead than...this."
Ashley whimpered pathetically as Leon reached toward her, and she flinched away, urging, "Don't!"
His hand curled on itself as he murmured sympathetically, "Ok, alright. I won't."
"I don't want to hurt you!" It sounded so small and desperate as it came out of her mouth, "I'm going to kill you, Leon. They will use my body and kill you if you don't submit to them. You should leave me behind. Find Luis and get out of here."
He shook his head. He advised, "It's ok to be scared, Ashley. It's ok. But you can't let this break you. You gotta stay strong, and you can't run from me. You have to let me do what I came here to do."
"What?" she demanded angrily, "Die!? Did you come here to die, Leon? Because that's what happens if you stay with me."
"No," he denied and shook his head, "I won't let that happen. Don't you trust me yet?"
He looked so calm. He looked so sure. She drew strength from that serenity on his face. Her whimpering quieted as she glanced at his arms and saw the tracing of black in his veins. Her eyes shot to his face as she whispered, "Does it hurt?"
He nodded and shrugged a shoulder, "I've had worse."
Her mouth twitched. Ashley shook her head, "How did we end up here? What kind of god lets shit like this happen to good people?"
"Just lucky, I guess," he quipped and sat beside her on the couch. He held her hand when she didn't object, "But if you can have faith in anything right now, anything at all - have it in this: I absolutely will not stop until you are safe."
She curled her fingers through his, "I'm so afraid I will hurt you."
He held her eyes and declared, "I can take it. Hurt me, but don't run from me. That's how we do this."
She nodded. Her breathing evened out as he nodded, smiling lightly, "There ya go, breathe. It's all you can do sometimes. Breathe, and move forward."
Ashley squeezed his hand and offered, "...thank you."
He smiled at her, "Sure. One of the perks of the trip, right? Bloody scenery. Shitty weather and no food. And the constant threat of death and imminent destruction."
She laughed sadly, "Your job sucks."
Leon grinned, "It does...but someone has to do it, am I right? Who needs a nice cushy desk job when you can suffer the risk of decapitation and complete emasculation on a daily basis?"
She smiled at him, touched he was trying so hard. She'd suggested he lighten up, and he was trying. He was really trying to be what she needed. It meant more than anything else he'd ever done that he was trying so hard to soothe her.
His communicator signaled, and Luis popped up on it, declaring, "You know...if I wanted this much trouble from a pet, I'd have gotten a dog."
Leon tilted his head, "Where are you?"
"The courtyard, amigo. I appear to be trapped up a ladder like a damsel. Save me, Prince Charming!"
Leon snorted, "I wouldn't make it if you tossed that greasy hair down for me to climb."
Luis sighed dramatically, "You wound me, sancho. After I'm trying so hard to get a gift for you."
"Your pride can take it," Leon rose from the couch, and Ashley followed him toward the door, "wait in your perch, Rumpelstiltskin; we'll be right there."
He clicked off. Ashley murmured, "It's Rapunzel."
Surprised, Leon glanced at her face, "What?"
"You called him Rumpelstiltskin...it's Rapunzel that tosses down her hair."
"I know," he stated with a smirk, "but he looks more like a skinny weirdo who forces girls to make deals with him for money."
Ashley smiled. He took the door handle and looked at her face to say, "If this is what makes this easier on you, Ashley, I can crack all the bad one-liners you want."
She held his eyes and answered, "...why are you trying so hard?"
"Maybe you're startin to grow on me," he teased and winked at her as he opened the door.
The courtyard was filled with mutts with mutation making them eager for the taste of human flesh. They hurried, sneaked, and worked together to open the gate and locate Luis. When Ashley held a lever for Leon as he went to rescue Luis and flipped the last switch to open the gate, she heard the chanting.
Her body froze.
Her breath caught.
The large ornate bushes behind her rustled, and she turned slowly, like in a bad horror movie, to find the cloaked man looking at her.
He reached for her; she ripped the knife from her thigh, kept a grip on the lever in her hand in the other, and stabbed him right in the throat with her weapon. It sank in, she whimpered with fear, and his eyes glazed. Those bloodshot orbs wheeled in their sockets as he gurgled, and blood poured from his wound and his mouth.
When he staggered as if he'd still reach for her, she jerked the knife through his neck like she was trying to give him a gruesome second smile. It opened his body like an envelope, pouring blood down in a thick, red, nasty mess that steamed in the cold air. The fear took a back seat to basic survival as she whispered, "...fuck your god."
And kicked him in the hip to jerk her knife free as he fell to his back.
She glanced down at the scythe he'd dropped on the ground beside him. She heard the sound of gunshots and running feet. The bushes rustled again, and she let go of the lever to pick up the scythe.
She put the bloody knife back on her thigh and waited, weapon ready.
The bushes split, a woman jumped through in a black cloak, and Ashley swung. It caught the woman across the chest and shoulder. It split, severing muscle and bone, leaving a grotesque display of a head half hanging off that ruined set of shoulders. The woman staggered and garbled brokenly before she went down.
Ashley jerked out the scythe as two more emerged around a corner away from her. She readied herself and shouted, "Leon!"
His response sounded further away than she wanted, "Hang on, Ashley, I'm comin for ya!"
She was on her own.
She could run or do what he said - she could go forward. And forward was how she found him.
The two cultists came for her, and she braced, swung, and hit the first in the chest and belly. It split him open; the second got a handful of her hair, and Ashley roared in rage, dropped the scythe, and grabbed her knife. She shoved it into his eye as he tried to throw her over his shoulder.
He dropped her to the ground, she kicked at his knee and sent him spinning backward, and she leaped on his back to grab for her knife still jammed in his face. He tossed around wildly, shouting his stupid pledges to the cold air, and Ashley jerked her blade free, commanding, "Shut up with that shit, you freak!"
She jabbed the knife into the back of his neck like she'd seen Leon do. It went in, he jerked like a landed fish, and his body fell to the ground with her atop him in the world's worst piggyback ride. He was still. She climbed off him with a pant of rage and determination.
The bushes rustled again, and she grabbed the scythe, rising with their blood all over her, and that iron will she was cultivating covered her like a shield. She waited. A face appeared around the corner, and she swung with a roar of battle.
Leon's gloved palm caught the scythe shaft just below the blade. It was inches from his nose. Horrified, she dropped it as Luis decided, "Mierda...warrior princess."
Leon tossed it down, and Ashley rushed, "I'm sorry! I was just-"
He stated, "Don't. Don't be sorry. You did good."
When she looked at him with doubt, he confirmed, "You did real good, kid."
Luis added, "Not such a coward now, are you, valquiria?"
No more, sweetheart. She was now called a Valkyrie. She took the compliment. It boosted her spirits and gave her hope she might be more than a cowering damsel as she answered, "I'm learning as I go."
Luis nodded, "Good. Let's get you what you need to finish becoming a warrior."
Her bravado held out as they came upon a mess of stupid puzzles and collected pieces to assemble a chimera that would allow them to pass through the castle. She was really getting a distaste for mythology when Luis emerged from a room with a goat head and handed it to Leon. Ashley was studying an ugly painting a few feet from them when the heavy stone bust slid in place...and a grinding noise had her turning to find a cage had snapped into place around the chimera and Leon. Luis rolled away at the last moment and found himself surrounded.
She started to offer to climb the bars or something when the chanting started.
Horrified, Leon told her, "Go. Go now."
Go where!?
But she listened. She found the first door she came to and ran through, slamming it shut behind her as three men smashed into it with barely a moment to spare. She threw the bolt as she listened to Luis and Leon battle the ones trying to kill them, and she leaned on the door, breathing heavily, "...I can do this. I can do this...I won't run."
She whispered, "...you can't fucking have him."
She opened her eyes and declared softly, "Hold on, Leon. I'm comin for ya."
It felt good to use his words and mean them.
In sheer darkness, she eased forward. The terror was palpable. It was nearly dizzying, but a steely resolve kept her going. And it was would the soul of a warrior inside the fragile shell of a survivor that gave her the strength to save a hero.
Little by little, she was figuring out what she was made of - and it had Valkyrie written all over it.
2005
Weapons training wasn't nearly as pleasant as she'd hoped. The kickback of the guns she used almost took her face off before she figured out how to control it. She'd had some basic understanding of weapons. She'd practiced a few times with a 9mm as she grew up, thanks to the benefits of having a Republican Senator for a father.
But the heavier arms weren't easy for her.
The shotgun set her on her ass and pissed her off.
The machine gun had her arms dancing like Luis doing flamenco.
The .45 she shot ejected a shell into her face that burned and jammed when she tried to fire it again. She didn't have the hand strength to free the heavy round from the chamber and needed Kyle to do it for her. He looked at her like she was adorable and pissed her off again.
Leon stepped behind her when she missed the target for the third time. He put his hands on her wrists and raised them. He said, "You gotta grip it like a baby bird; too hard, and you kill it. Too soft, and it flies away."
He adjusted her hands on the pistol and told her, "Don't listen to anyone who tells you to do the teacup grip. It works sorta ok with a 9mm, but anything bigger and the recoil will send that support hand off into space. You have to adjust your hands each time you fire, and that costs you seconds you need to stay alive."
As he shifted her hands, she glanced at his face, and he advised, "Not me. Look at what we're doing."
Right.
A little embarrassed to be thinking about the color of his eyes in the daylight, Ashley focused on her hands. He instructed, "See how there's no sunlight visible between the top of your firing hand and the back of the gun?"
She nodded, and he added, "Your grip is as high and tight on the gun as it can go now. It helps you control the recoil, and the support hand is handling the grip. Both hands working together, in harmony."
Ashley murmured, "Teamwork."
He glanced down at her face and smiled, "Right. Now brace your arms like I showed you and blow that ugly alien away down there."
He let go of her. She aimed at the plagas target down the field and blew out a breath. She pulled the trigger, the gun barely moved in her hands, and the bullet hit the target in the throat. She pulled the trigger again, and the next round went into its bulging eye. She unloaded the magazine into it while Misty declared, "Woot! Look at you! You go, girl!"
Leon decided quietly, "Almost a natural. Well done."
He passed her, and she twisted her lips to stop the smile.
Sniper training was engaging. They laid on their bellies; they sighted, and most missed. Ashley listened to every word he said - talking about wind resistance, adjusting, and leading your target when it was moving. He mentioned patience.
Temperance, child.
She shook off the memory like a bad smell.
Kyle kept missing and loudly decided, "This shit is stupid! You think we're gonna go toe to toe with monsters parked on a hill like a coward?"
Leon answered coolly, "If you can eliminate a threat without endangering yourself or your charge, you damn well will. There's no room in what we do for big balls, Lebowski. Check your ego at the door."
Kyle snorted, "That's rich coming from the guy who slaughtered an entire island with his bare hands."
There was a small surge of laughter from the other recruits. Leon waited, shook his head, and finally said, "Let's be clear on one thing - whatever you think you heard? You're wrong. Whatever stories you've heard? Exaggerated. I did the job. I utilized the training. I wasn't powered by prayer or the promise of becoming a legend. I didn't do it for anything other than what I'm teaching you here."
Kyle demanded, "What? Cowardice?"
Leon met his look and answered, "Survival. All the adrenaline and drive in the world won't help you in the middle of it, Lebowski. The training kicks in, and you do it. Or you die. You decide to run in guns blazing like the goddamn Lone Ranger; you're gonna figure out how fucked you are about two seconds before some mutated monster takes your arrogant head from your overly eager shoulders."
Kyle rolled his eyes at the admonishment, "That's not what they were saying at the B.S.A.A. recruitment drive."
Leon laughed. He shook his head again. "And yet here you are, looking to be an agent, not a grunt. You wanna go full soldier?" Leon gestured with his arm, "There's the way out. Go sign up for sheer combat. Nothing wrong with that at all. The world needs grunts too."
Kyle gave him a sour look as he added, "You wanna save lives? You do every goddamn thing I tell you. You sit there, and you listen, and you learn. And maybe, just maybe, you make a goddamn difference when you're done."
Sue squeaked, "What if-what if we're too weak?"
Ashley's greatest fear was realized in that one question. She waited for the answer. Leon glanced at the recruits watching him raptly and declared, "Weakness is a choice, Sanchez. It's something you can overcome; you just gotta make up your mind to do it."
Misty queried, "And if we get knocked down too much?"
"Then you keep getting up," he looked between them, "the only way you fail is to give up. It's ok to be afraid, and it's ok to be angry or upset, or confused. But you have to learn to put aside the doubt and keep going. Because what you're wanting to do here doesn't come with a grace period. There's no try before you buy. When you're out there, it's fight or die. And what you learn here is what will make the difference between agents and average citizens."
When they were all silent, he added, "There is no shame in quitting. Not here and now. But the second you pick up that gun, you owe it to the people you save to keep fighting. You don't get to give up anymore. Because it's not just your life on the line anymore."
Like a Valkyrie, Ashley thought as she watched him walk among them and inspire as he moved; you had to fight until you had nothing left. It wasn't for the weak. It was how the weak became strong. It wasn't skills, not really; it was determination. And you could only find that at the bottom of a well filled with fear.
You shook off the fear, remorse, guilt, and regret and stood up. Down and out, you kept pushing as he'd done and as she'd done. You kept fighting. And you saved lives.
That's what she'd come here to do: make sure she stopped anyone she could from living through her nightmare. She'd come here to stand.
And that started by accepting she knew nothing and opening herself up to learn.
Softly, Sue wondered, "Is that what you did?"
Ashley glanced at her and nodded, "Yeah, I just kept pushing."
"Did it suck?"
Ashley laughed, "Oh, yeah. Like you wouldn't believe."
Misty murmured, "At least you did it with this guy. My god, it should be a crime to look that good."
It was refreshing to talk to other women like she was just a woman with nothing else to worry about but hot guys. But it wasn't like that anymore. And their comradery went right over her head like a bird taking flight.
Because it didn't matter what Leon looked like anymore. It hadn't ever really mattered. What mattered was what he could teach her, how he made her feel about herself, and what she felt around him - relevant. Strong. Important.
Capable.
He didn't just save her life; he inspired her to live it. And somehow, that inspired her to help others do the same.
He told them, "We're gonna run simulations tomorrow, " he glanced at Kyle, "Those of you who are still interested in putting aside your egos to learn, show up at sunrise. The rest of you can turn in your gear and head out."
As he walked away, Kyle muttered, "Arrogant asshole."
Carter chirped, "Can you blame him? He's earned it."
"I heard he killed his old trainer. That's some cold shit."
Misty answered Kyle's remark, "I heard the trainer went bad."
"Like Darth Vader bad?" Queried Sue.
Ashley answered, "Who was his trainer?"
Kyle returned, "Major Jack Krauser. It was in the report. You were there, and you didn't know that?"
She hadn't. Leon had never said. She knew Krauser had been his comrade in arms; she'd had no idea he'd been his trainer. What had it been like to stare at the face of a man you'd once trusted and finish him off?
Her belly twitched with sympathy.
Ashley told them, "I didn't. We weren't friends; he was my bodyguard."
Misty sighed dramatically, "Shame. He looks like he's good with his knife."
Sue chuckled. Kyle rolled his eyes. Carter snickered.
Kyle joked, "Look out, though - his knife will kill you."
Ashley remarked, "Excuse me, would you?"
Something about their vapid chatter grated on her nerves. She wanted to make friends, she did, but the sheer simplicity of their conversations seemed hollow to her. She wasn't just some recruit here for the thrills and to ogle the hot instructor. The jokes they were making, the comments, the off-the-cuff remarks...they were talking about a real man, not just a rumored legend.
They were judging what they couldn't possibly begin to understand. If any of them made it through training, they had a world of hurt to look forward to. They didn't get it and wouldn't; how could they? They hadn't lived it.
And she hated them all for it.
It was unfair. It wasn't their fault. But she felt so alone. Surrounded by people, she felt alone. She didn't know if that feeling would ever end. She was trying. She was doing her damnedest. But the pain ate around the edges of her emptiness and left nothing but ache behind.
There was only one way to handle it when the horror surged inside her with the memories - tears or anger. She chose the anger and let it soak through her like power. She'd shed enough tears for a lifetime. Valkyries didn't cry - they fought back.
The rain peppered her face as she returned to the dummies in the field. She rolled her shoulders. She tensed herself, and she started swinging. Each punch rang up her arm, and each kick ached in her shins.
Each face she put on the dummies had madness and monsters in them.
She tackled the fattest dummies and saw Krauser. Major Jack Krauser - a stupid name for a son of a bitch. It should have been Major Jackass. He'd stroked her thigh while he'd had her bound during transport. He'd stroked her back. He'd looked at her like she was precious.
He spoke to her like she was stupid.
He'd been a monster. A perverted piece of shit seeking power. He'd spoken to her like she gave a shit what his agenda was. He talked about responsibility, courage, and revenge. He'd claimed she was paying the price for a president who deserved to know what it felt like to lose everything.
He'd murmured into her ear, "Your father is a failure, princess. He's not a leader; he's a fool. I'm going to enjoy watching you kill him."
She'd been so afraid, terrified, locked in a nightmare. It was never-ending. Each night, still, she laid down, and she waited. Each night, she saw Krauser. She smelled the sickly stench of sweat and blood on him and the sour odor of his breath on her face.
And she saw the look on his face when he murdered Micah and smiled.
Smiled while her world burned.
Ashley hit the dummies full force, screaming now, as the rage burned through her body as the plagas had. She had no control then. She had none now. She was a victim of the waves of muted horror and loss that surged through her body like adrenaline.
The rain whipped around her. Her long hair swirled like a tail down her shoulders in her ponytail, and the bangs she'd cut recently matted to her face. She drove a hip kick. She spun an elbow into a rubbery face. She punched into her hands hurt.
She landed in the mud on her hands and knees, breathing hard and defeated.
Purged.
But the horror was still there, banked but burning, waiting to remind her she was alone. It wanted her to give up and let it destroy her. It wanted her to give up and let it own her.
Like Saddler had wanted. Like Krauser had wanted.
As she lifted her face to the rain, she whispered, "...I don't give a fuck what you want."
It wasn't the first time she said it, but it was the first time she believed it.
She rose in the rain to face those dummies again - each one wearing a demon, each one waiting for her to destroy them. Each one unable to understand - she might be wounded, but she would never be broken again. Her nightmare was over.
But the battle for her life had just begun. She didn't need Leon to save her anymore. He'd done it once. He'd carried her through hell, and he'd kept his promise.
And now? Now it was time to save herself.
She just wished her heart could believe it as easily as her head.
