Woman Scorned Page 28

  Her girls had gone on to bed soon thereafter, and only Steph had stayed behind to discuss the meeting.

  “You were brilliant,” her friend had said.

  “Shut up.” It was neither a counterstatement nor a joke, and for a moment Steph had given her the first look of true bafflement of the night. Then she’d followed Josie’s stare to her own stomach and comprehension wiped bafflement cleanly away.

  “I told Rhonda,” Josie had said. “Asked her to give you some time off.”

  “I know,” Steph had said. “She told me this afternoon. ‘Take as much time as you need. Consider it an emotional furlough.’ Those were here exact words. I was damned near speechless.” She had paused, looking at her stomach too then, and remembering that look now Josie thought she already knew Steph’s true answer to the question she had asked next.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I only know I’m scared to death of every option in front of me.”

  “The father,” Josie had said. “He’s not on the island, is he?”

  “No.”

  “And he doesn’t belong on the island either.”

  “No. He’s a nice guy. Honest to God.”

  “Then you have a tough decision to make.”

  “That I know.”

  “Well,” Josie had put her hands over Steph’s own and squeezed, “Whatever you decide, I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

  “Thank you.”

  It was all either of them had said. They’d gone to bed, the last of the island’s women to do so that night, and Josie had pretended to sleep when Steph had cried softly for some time over on her side of their room.

  Standing now in the sunlight of her open office, she thought again of what her plans entailed and upon what hurdles she faced.

  A thousand miles, she thought. What an understatement. Changing this place… changing the world… that’s more like a million. A trillion. How many miles are in a light year? How many from one end of the cosmos to the other? How do you change human nature? I might as well try to walk across the universe.

  And then, thinking of her friend, she added, I have to anyway. It’s the only way any of us is ever going to be happy.

  Outside, the gentle breeze pushed its way through her open window and into her eager lungs. Inside, the typhoon raged, the lightening crashed, and the thunder boomed.

  3

  Lucy ascended the darkened stairway to the helicopter platform shortly before midnight. In her hand was a small brown suitcase that held everything in the world that was hers. This was it; she was finally leaving. After ten years on the island, her time to depart had come.

  She had thought she was ready, thought she had spent plenty of time preparing for the special day, but now that it had come she didn’t know how to feel. At least one of her little inner voices was screaming that she should have taken the headwoman job after all. But another, louder voice told her it was too late and she should be strong, be a proper woman, and just deal with what was ahead.

  Only an hour before, she had made one final round of the fortress to say her goodbyes. She met up with nearly everyone. Each had immediately stopped her final duties for the evening to give her hugs and spew forth round after round of congratulations. Many told her how envious they were. And Lucy did consider herself lucky, though not for the reasons everyone would have thought. She had never made a real friend like so many of the others had, and leaving was all the easier because of it. Still, there was one person she did want to see and hadn’t yet found.

  On her last farewell venture through the halls, she had made a special trip to see Josie, but the new headwoman hadn’t been in her office. The disappointment Lucy had felt from this was surprising. She had never known she could care for anyone on the island that much. Perhaps, she had thought, if we had gotten to know each other sooner, I could have made a real friend after all. But Lucy had always been a strong woman, so she returned to her room and prepared to leave.

  Packing had taken only a few minutes. She had brought so little to begin with and most of that had been discarded or given away in the intervening years. It hadn’t taken Lucy long to learn the farce of putting value on personal objects. She had acquired only two new things in those ten years: a book, The Catcher in the Rye, which she had taken from one of her victims on a recruiting mission, and upon reading found it both intriguing and incredibly addicting and had since read it about a hundred times, and a dog-eared black and white photograph of Marilyn Monroe, acquired in the same way. The bat she had so many times used to finish off a recent near-kill she had formally given to Emma earlier that day after the last of her hunts was finally over. The weapon wasn’t hers, had never been hers. It was merely a symbol of power that belonged to the office. Now a new office holder was responsible for it and its meanings. Lucy was done with it.

  Last of all, with her suitcase in hand, she had taken the long route to the stairs leading to the roof, stopping by the third floor foyer one final time. She had stood there only a few moments, taking in the aroma of the room and making it hers then looking out the southern window at the little collection of old scorch marks on the grass just inside the fence.

  She looked to the coffee table with the velvet-lined drawer and wanted, no needed, to see if it was empty. She put her suitcase down and walked over to it. She sat down on the couch with the drawer inches in front of her. She didn’t even know if she wanted it to be empty or not.

  Still there, she had soon decided. I want it to still be there. Don’t let it be found until I’m gone. I should have just put the thing in tonight instead of a month ago. But she knew that once again it was too late and she should be strong.

  She reached out and opened the drawer. Inside was the letter, still resting and waiting like royalty. Lucy sighed deeply. She realized just how much she’d been afraid it would be discovered before she left. She shut the drawer, picked up her suitcase, and took one last look at her favorite place before moving on to the roof.

  At the top of the stairs she could hear the rotors of the helicopter already slowly spinning, cutting through the air and warping it. As a hunter, she’d been in the helicopter only once, a very long ten years before.

  She reached the roof’s platform and took in the view. The rotors wrestled with the air, impatient for her arrival. Monica sat in the pilot’s seat, and Gertrude stood on the ground by the side door.

  “Hello, Lucy,” a soft voice said, and Lucy jumped because the voice had come from behind her.

  “Josie!” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” Josie laughed. But the laugh died away fast. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “That’s okay. I just… wasn’t expecting you here. I looked for you earlier.”

  “I thought you might,” Josie said. “I’ve been talking to Gertrude and Monica about headwoman things. Monotonous, boring shit really. You’re better off, believe me.” Lucy didn’t say anything. She only looked deeper through the midnight darkness to see Josie’s eyes. “But I wanted to see you off and congratulate you.”

  “Thank you,” Lucy said finally. “But I’m not so sure about being better off than you.” She looked over her shoulder to the helicopter and Gertrude. “It’s a big world out there,” she said. And her voice was uncharacteristically sheepish.

  “Nonsense,” Josie said. “I’m there all the time. It’s not so different. You’ll be back in the swing of things in no time. There’s nothing there to be scared of now.”

  “I am scared, Josie. That’s part of what I wanted to tell you the other day after the meeting.”

  “Oh, Lucy. There’s nothing to be worried about. With all your work here your compensation will be among the highest ever, and for the first time in a decade you can do whatever the hell you want to. Screw Gertrude and all of the fucking rules in this place.”

  Lucy laughed, loving any insult at Dirty Gertie’s expense. Josie smiled back. “Now go on and get out of here. Live a great life for the rest
of us. I’ve still got four more years here and-”

  “Not anymore,” Lucy said.

  “What?”

  “You’re a headwoman now. You don’t leave at the end of ten years. The rules are different for you. Hell, you make the rules now.”

  “Yes,” Josie said. “Of course. I’m still getting used to all of this.”

  “Are you sure you want this job?” Lucy asked. And somewhere inside that little voice was screaming at her to say she’d take it off Josie’s hands. That way she could stay, she could continue living a proper life, she didn’t have to get on the helicopter.

  “Yes,” Josie said, and Lucy’s heart broke just a little. “I have lots of important things to do, and this is my opportunity.” Lucy heard the conviction in Josie’s voice and her own little screaming insides quieted. Sometimes, things happened just the way they were meant to. Josie really could be the woman she thought her to be. She might even be the one who had been denting the third floor sofa cushions, the one she hoped would find her letter. But even if Josie would never grow into it all, that was Josie’s life. Lucy’s own life was planned out now.

  “Good,” Lucy told her. “You’ll do a fine job, I’m sure of it.”

  “I guess you’d better get going then,” Josie said, looking to Gertrude, who was getting impatient.

  “Yes. I should go.” But Lucy didn’t move, and Josie didn’t prompt her again. Finally, Lucy met Josie’s eyes directly and spoke again. “I wanted to tell you something else before I left. Something very important.” Josie’s eyebrows twitched in the moonlight, and Lucy felt the hot flush of excitement wash over her. Suddenly it was as if she were hunting and had just spotted a man in black. “You know how I warned you about Gertrude?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Josie said, and her posture tightened.

  “Well, there’s more.” She paused again then, surprised she was losing the courage to share what she’d so wanted to only hours before. Her lips ran a firm crease across her face. Josie watched her closely and waited. Finally realizing there was no way to ease into it, Lucy just blurted it out and hoped to hell she didn’t sound stupid.

  “Gertrude murdered her foster parents when she was sixteen years old. She hated her dad for working her hard and her mother for putting up with it, and she killed them both. Shot him in the chest and her in the head.”

  “What?” Josie managed. “But why-”

  “She wasn’t abused, if that’s what you’re thinking. Not raped. Not beaten. Just plain old reprimands. Words, Josie.”

  “Well…” Josie stammered for a moment. “Well, it must have been verbal abuse then. They insulted her-”

  “No,” Lucy interrupted. “I’ve read Monica’s personal journals. There are dozens of them, and much is about Gertrude. They were strict with her, that’s all. I’m sure Gertrude feels differently about it, and it’s clear Monica agrees with her. But I was raised strict too, and I never considered it abuse. I hated my father too, even fantasized about his death- once or twice by my own hand- but to actually take a shotgun…” she trailed off, and Josie’s eyes flinched toward the helicopter. “I had it much worse than her. Maybe that’s why this bothers me so much. The way I was raised, you’d think we were soldiers instead of children.” Josie looked back to Lucy and opened her mouth to speak, but Lucy cut her off yet again. “But I never had honest reason to hurt my folks. Not like what happened to me later when-”

  “What exactly is the holdup Lucy?” Lucy jumped at the sound of Gertrude’s voice and wheeled to see her approaching in her awkward, stiff walk.

  “Just saying goodbye,” Josie said, and Lucy turned back, surprised and impressed at how calm Josie’s voice was. There was a moment, then, when Lucy was positive Gertrude would demand her former second-in-command leave at that instant and board the helicopter, but for a wonder only silence issued from them all. Lucy found herself completely vulnerable. For the first time in years she did not know how to wash the emotion of her true feelings from her face, and she was sure Gertrude would see the insurrection in her eyes at any second. Josie somehow held Gertrude’s gaze, though, in perfect, patient silence.

  Finally, Gertrude spoke, but not in the hard command she usually adopted. Lucy attributed the soft, almost casual comment entirely to Josie’s presence. “I would appreciate it if you try to wrap things up. Helicopter fuel is rather expensive.” Then she turned and walked away, leaving the two women to make better sense of her remark.

  “She didn’t hear you,” Josie said when Gertrude was fully out of earshot.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” And Lucy released a strong breath of air. “But you’d better finish.”

  Lucy felt the excitement again like in the moments before catching a running man. “Don’t you see?” she said. “There’s no reason to kill someone just because they make you work hard. If anything, it raises a strong, confident adult. Hell, if such were the case, each one of us here has grounds for murder. Gertrude is psychotic. That’s my point, Josie. Not abused. Not even vengeful against men. Just plain nuts. I think she was born with a full head of loose screws and she just grasped onto her foster father out of convenience. Quite frankly, if it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else. As trainer, you’ve never been to a raid, but now you will. Take a close look at Gertrude’s eyes at the moment of death. You’ll see what I mean.”

  Josie was nodding, and Lucy had the eerie feeling she somehow knew all of this, that nothing she was telling her was new information.

  “So this whole place,” Josie said. “It’s just Gertrude’s killing machine.”

  Now Lucy was the one nodding. “She brought on Rhonda and Monica from the start, and I think there were lots of mistakes in the early going. More than what we’ve been told. They’ve all certainly become much bigger and more efficient since I first got here.”

  Josie chuckled to herself. “It seems impossible to imagine any of them smaller or… less crazy. It’s always felt like they’ve just… you know, been here forever. It’s interesting to see them as people still in flux, even today. Thank you for that perspective. But I do have to ask. Why are you telling me all this now? And why me?”

  Lucy hesitated and held up a finger and a smile to Gertrude. “I’m telling you because… because I’m leaving now, and somebody needs to know. I don’t even know if it will do any good, but I have to tell somebody, you know? And… and I believe that you’re special, for more than one reason. Perhaps you can make something out of all this that I was never able to. I don’t know. I just feel like I was lucky enough to figure it out and now I have to pass it on so it can stay alive.”

  “Well, thank you, Lucy,” Josie said. “I’ll remember. I promise. Now you better get going or you won’t be alive. Gertrude looks pretty pissed.”

  Lucy laughed. It was a short, scornful laugh. “Don’t you realize we’re all dead already, Josie? It’s only a matter of time. Just… make the best of your time here while you still have it. Don’t waste it earning points like I did.”

  “I won’t,” Josie said.

  “I believe you,” Lucy admitted. “Goodbye, Josie. Please figure out what to do about Gertrude. I always wanted to but didn’t have the guts. I think maybe you do.”

  Josie smiled. “I will,” she said. “And that’s a promise.” She paused long enough to sigh and fake a smile. “I guess this is goodbye, then. Have a great life, Lucy, really.”

  “Sure,” Lucy said into Josie’s ear as they hugged. Then, when they pulled back she couldn’t help adding: “With my luck I’ll get picked up by a biker gang and turned into one of their whores.”

  “Ha!” Josie laughed. “Fat chance! You’d turn them into whores!” Josie laughed again as Lucy finally turned and started trotting toward the helicopter another under the pale gray of the moon and stars.

  As she approached Gertrude, the massive woman began talking almost before her voice could be heard over the helicopter’s whipping blades. “Are you finally done, Lucy?”
she said. “I know this is your last day, but really, you should remember the rest of us still have a schedule to keep.”

  “Sorry, Gertrude. It’s been more difficult than I thought to say goodbye to this place.”

  “I didn’t know you and Josie were so close.”

  “We aren’t. I was just giving her some pointers I’ve picked up over the years.”

  “Josie will do just fine on her own, Lucy. There was no reason to assume she needed help. You chose not to take that position, it still saddens me to say, and you just have to let it go. Be strong. Be a woman.”

  “Of course, Gertrude. I’m sorry.”

  The two women hopped into the helicopter and Monica finally turned the rotors up to their full potential. A few seconds later they lifted from the ground. The view to Lucy was again breathtaking despite being under the cover of darkness. She leaned to the window, enjoying every second of it.

  4

  Heather looked at the pitiful collection of ‘weapons’ and tried to think which one was her best chance for survival. Rhonda had proffered a thick-barreled screwdriver, a knife with a short, dulled blade, and a length of frayed rope.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said.

  “No. These are your choices. We all get the same. It’s already more than you need.” The woman who had spoken was Beatrice, the headwoman of the green sector and her future direct supervisor.

  But only if I pass this insane test, the frightened girl thought to herself. They want me to kill him! I feel like the whole world has gone crazy. It’s a gang. That’s what this place is. It’s a woman’s gang that kills men for sport. That’s all it is.

  “I’m not…” she tried to say, but she found her voice was quivering. God, she was so scared. They really wouldn’t let her just go home. She’d tried asking a dozen times. They had ignored her. They really meant her to do this. “I’m not strong enough,” she said. “He’s too big.”