Once A Wolf Ch. 03

Second Day - Afternoon

They came upon a grove of scrub trees and sawgrass that looked oddly out of place for the terrain. The hair on the back of Giselle's neck stood up. She advanced cautiously, turning this way and that, maintaining a close watch in all directions. Geoff followed, adding his eyes to the scan. If the grove seemed out of place, the dilapidated, two-story frame house was doubly so. Giselle approached the stairs to the porch at a half-crouch, placing each footfall quietly, carefully, deliberately, her left hand over her shoulder, resting comfortably on the hilt of her sword. There was no sign of life on the porch or at the door. They mounted the steps and entered.

There were stairs ahead of the door and a parlor to the right. They stepped into the latter room, Geoff keeping a close eye on their rear. The room itself was unremarkable, aside from the entire structure being hideously out of place. It had a high ceiling and a few pieces of old furniture with threadbare upholstery scattered around the periphery. Tattered lace curtains fluttered at the windows. For the most part, it was just a big, empty room, ending in a door.

It was the closed door that held the experienced tactician's attention. It wasn't a 'door'door. Rather, it was an industrial-style steel fire door, mounted on tracks, which slid to one side rather than swinging on hinges. When she saw that door,she knew.

Her hands flew to her chest, unbuckling the sword harness. She thrust the sword back into Geoff's hands.

"Step back. Donotinterfere. If this goes south, get out, don't look back, and stay on the mission."

"But..."

"STEP BACK," she hissed.

Then, they heard the buzzing roar. Giselle faced the steel door, positioning her feet shoulder-width apart, flexing her knees slightly. The door flew to one side. The man who stepped through it – and it did appear to be a man – was perhaps six-foot-three, two-hundred-thirty pounds, wearing commercial-grade denim overalls, a stained, full-length leather apron and matching mask. He stank of death and decay. A long, menacing chain saw swung from his arms in a wide figure-eight arc.

It was the kind of specter that would have terrified any normal human being, let alone a normal young woman. Giselle Du Mont had never been either. She calculated the speed of his advance, plus that of the saw's recurring circular motion. She waited until he was just before her, the spinning chain at the apogee of its arc, directly above her head. Then, she struck.

The front snap kick caught him squarely in the groin, momentarily lifting him off the floor. Even through the heavy combat boot, she could feel his testicles collapse from the force of the blow. As he doubled over, the saw would have neatly bisected the woman – had she still been standing where she had been. She was already squatted to one side, spinning clockwise on her left foot, right leg extended, heel-forward. She swept the man's feet out from under him from behind in one fluid motion. He somersaulted backwards in mid-air, landing with a crash on his head and shoulders. His legs were above him, parallel to the floor.

Giselle rocked back on her shoulders, thrusting both legs straight up, then snapped them out and down. She caught his legs behind the ankles, pinning him to the floor, the chain saw trapped between his thighs and belly. She reached out with her right hand, covered his, and firmly squeezed the trigger. The icy blonde held him there, watching dispassionately, as the chain saw ripped him apart. His trapped body shuddered violently as green blood, flesh, and bits of bone flew in every direction.

It was over in a few seconds. She rolled off him when his legs came loose and collapsed on top of the remains of his torso. Kipping up to her feet, she stepped to the window, yanked a lace curtain from its rod, and wiped the gore from her face, neck and hands. Throwing the bloody rag down, she walked determinedly from the room and house, eyes fixed straight ahead. Geoff followed in her wake, too stunned to speak.

He caught up with her fifty yards on, grabbing her by the arm and spinning her around. Her eyes burned brightly. Her jaw was still tightly clenched, distended at the hinges. Geoff held her firmly by the arms. He didn't care one whit that she could, if she chose, dispatchhimas easily as she had the man in the house. His eyes bore into hers, demanding answers.

"What... just...happened? That was amanback there, one of our own kind, and he just tried tokill us! Has the entire Universe goneinsane?What was he doing here in the first place? And why did he bleedgreen blood,like the ant?"

Her demeanor softened. She eased her right arm from his grasp, softly put her fingers to his lips and shook her head.

"No, itwasn't," she replied calmly. "A man, that is. We could probably come back here in an hour and none of it would be here; the house, the grove, anything. Just like the ants."

"What about the Golganthan's ant?" Geoff countered.

"The Arcturans were not done with it yet," Giselle responded. "Rather, theGolganthansweren't. As to why he bled green, like the ant... that just proves hewasn'thuman. The color indicatescupraglobin;copper-based blood. I think they were both constructs, derived from a similar source. Replicas."

The lanky young man turned his head this way and that, thoroughly confused.

"Was itreal? Any of it?" he inquired incredulously.

"Real enough to kill us both if we had been less skillful."

"Iwasless skillful," Geoff avowed. "I would be mincemeat twice over if not for you."

She placed her hand on his chest.

"You, My Dear, would have been smart enough not to go into the house in the first place."

"Why didyou?" he demanded.

She pursed her lips.

"Because the Arcturans expected me to. If I hadn't... I don't know, they might have penalized us in some way. I took a calculated risk. We won. We will be rewarded for it, just as we will be rewarded for our earlier combat with the Golganthans. In the end, these tiny victories, and the rewards we earn, will help us win."

"Tiny?" he gasped. "Oh, never mind that part. Why did you give me your sword? Why not just draw and quarter him with it? For you, that would be child's play."

She wrapped her arm around his.

"Walk with me. Geoff, we train as hard as we can, learn as much as we can, then stick close to those who have done the job and survived, in hope some of their 'magic' will rub off on us. But there is no magic in Combat. In the end, so much of it depends on that 'blind idiot luck' I talked about yesterday.

"Good people die for really stupid, tragic, yet unavoidable reasons. I was fairly confident I could take down old 'Leatherface' with or without my sword,but there was a chance I was mistaken. I told you it was a calculated risk. If I had lost,youwould be responsible for Humankind, not to mention defending yourself from Leatherface. You would have a much better chance of fulfilling those two responsibilitieswiththe sword thanwithoutit."

"You would sacrifice yourself like that?" he asked.

"If the job called for it, yes; without a moment's hesitation," the blonde warrior asserted. "The mission comes first. One life is unimportant.Life itself – with the infinite possibilities it offers –isimportant. Our job here is to ensure Life, as we know it, continues – no matter what."

"What did you mean 'goessouth?'" he inquired.

She laughed.

"Ends badly, disastrously. Sometimes, I slip. Now, let's get back to the cave."

She was so adept at that façade of invincibility. He admired her for that. Yet he now knew her well enough to understand she would need him later, when she let down her guard. He vowed he would be there for her, as he had attempted the night before.

She hadn't lied to him; not really. She hadn't been the slightest bit afraid of Leatherface. She had seen the film so many times, choreographed and rehearsed her response in her head so often, that when it actually played out, she could have all but phoned in her performance. Who says nothing good ever comes of a childhood fixation on scary movies?

Her ploy had had an entirely different motivation, one that seemed to be working out. With a smile, she noted that it had not yet occurred to Geoff to offer her back the sword he had slung over his shoulder as she did. She had wanted him to have a taste ofcommand, of being in charge – with all the responsibility that job carried. She would need that of him later; Earth would. More to the point, shewanted it. So far, he was handling it like a natural.

Upon their return to the cave, the Praetor's holographic image awaited them.

"Who are you?", he inquired accusingly.

"Giselle Du Mont. I told you that."

"Who are youwith? What military organization?"

Giselle blushed, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of Geoff.

"I am unemployed. I have been for two years. I told youthat, too."

"I don't believe you."

"Look it up. I'm in the book!"

The heated exchange went on for several minutes. In the end, the Praetor broke contact; satisfied or not, they could not tell. Shortly, a tall stack ofMRE's, medical supplies, a couple of knapsacks and some kind of lantern appeared on the cave floor. There were still no new weapons. The lantern would be useful in providing additional light at night. Geoff just stared at their reward for providing a good day's 'entertainment'. Giselle placed her hand on his arm. He looked up.

"What?" she asked softly.

"I can't help wondering what the Golganthans received forlosing," he intoned.

Her jaw muscles clenched. She already knew the answer to that. In her mind's eye, she could still see the excised portion of the dead ant's abdomen. She wondered how it had tasted.

"Go down to the grotto and get cleaned up," she advised. We'll talk when you get back."

"What about you?" he asked.

"I'll shower later. I have something to do first."

When Geoff returned, she wasn't there. He was getting used to that. The dejected young warrior-in-training realized he wasn't in her league – and wondered if he ever would be. He had the distinct impression she was older than she appeared. She was clearly more skillful, experienced, intuitive and fiercely independent. He wasn't used to a woman making him feel like an addled schoolboy. Right now, he would be happy if she would just let him know when she was leaving.

It was dark when she finally reappeared in the cave entrance. She dropped her empty knapsack and Sally Mae in a heap with the rest of their gear. She placed the sword more reverently in the corner. Geoff looked at her expectantly. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Night recon."

Even in the dim light, Geoff could make out a shadow on the side of her face. He held her chin in his hand and gently turned that side toward him. A fresh bruise shown clearly. She avoided his gaze.

"A little misunderstanding. I got it straightened out."

"I'm glad. I wouldn't want people to suspect I was abusing you."

She regarded him tenderly.

"That is the one thing I don't think I wouldever have to worry about."

She kissed him lightly on the lips.

"That wasn't very professional," Geoff murmured.

"Sue me," Giselle replied softly. "I need a shower."

He watched her retreating form as she made her way through the passage. He thought to grab some antiseptic and follow her, so he could treat her bruise after she washed. It wasn't there. The medical kit was gone. So were half theMRE's. He gazed at the moonlit cave entrance, then turned to face the passageway where she had disappeared.

"Bloody Hell."

He could picture in his mind Giselle showing up on the Golganthan's doorstep with her 'Care package' in her knapsack. Of course,theywouldn't know that was her reason for coming.Theywould have.... He thought again of the bruise.And she HADN'T cut them to ribbons?Geoff just shook his head in amazement. Given the life-or-death nature of their struggle, it had been an amazingly foolish, illogical, gallant gesture, worthy of the old World War One aviators. He could really love this woman.

She had already washed out her bloody fatigues; they were draped over rocks to dry. He was waiting for her on the steps as she arose from the water. She was every bit as exquisite as before. There was a difference now, one that tore at his heart. The bruise on her cheek was just the tip of the iceberg. God, she had taken a fearsome beating! She had done it because he had shamed her into it – or felt he had. Then, he hadn't even been there for her when she needed him, as he had promised himself he would. He knewthatfeeling all too well. Tears welled up in his eyes as he held out the towel for her.

"Just tell me you don't hate me," he murmured solemnly. That's all I ask."

She looked down.

"Hate... you...."

She rolled the words slowly, carefully off her tongue, as though she were having difficulty with the concept. She lifted her gaze to his and tore the towel out of his grasp, throwing it down on the steps. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed herself bodily against him. She kissed him then; fiercely, passionately, wantonly. He placed his hands under her tush to support her weight.

The moment passed. She broke the kiss. He read the signal and released her gently. She spread the towel out along the step and they sat down. He put his arm around her and she did nothing to dissuade him. She gazed into his eyes and spoke resolutely.

"We may die here. Our world may end. Hell may freeze over. The Sun itself may fall from the sky, but I will never,everhate you. Youmustbelieve that. Sometimes I get so caught up in the job, I forget, under it all, I am still human. You reminded me of that tonight. Thank you."

Gazing into her eyes, he knew he did believe her. Still, he had so many questions.

"Giselle, I really need to know. Yesterday, with the ant. Today, the man with the chain saw. I realize they were 'challenges' the Arcturans set out for us. Whythese things? Where are the Arcturans getting them from?"

"From us."

"Us?"

"It has become deeply ingrained in our popular culture to think that aliens are monitoring our television and radio signals," the blonde warrior explained. "The S.E.T. I. Project beams signals directly into space for exactly that purpose. So, why not? The Arcturans seemed to focus on images from our pop culture that frighten us; monsters, bogeymen, spooks, things that go bump in the night. They are using those images against us to see how we cope with them. They aren't justchallenging us. They mean toterrifyus."

"So far, they have succeeded very nicely withme," Geoff admitted. "However, their plan seems to be backfiring withyou."

"I don't scare that easily," Giselle avowed.

"Why are they doing this? Are they feeding on our fear?"

"Perhaps not in the literal sense. To them, it may be a 'hoot' to scare us to death, like in the 'slasher' movies they emulate. There isanotherpossibility. The Arcturans are an advanced,jadedculture. As in any decadent society, 'kicks just keep gettin' harder to find'. They have already altered the parameters of their tournament several times to make it more interesting. The tournament itself, and the 'challenges' in particular, may have become asexual perversion. Our pain, our fear, may be making them cream."

That angered the young man. She could see it in his eyes. She held his face with both hands.

"Don't," she enjoined. "That is exactly what they want. Don't give them the satisfaction – at least, not for free. Remember, this is all a game to them. So, let's play the game. Make them work for it."

"Work for it?" he asked.

"Tit for tat," she replied. "If theywant something, they have to give us something in return."

"That sounds so mercenary. Next, you will be saying we should demand the money in advance."

That stunned the blonde beauty. She thought about it for a moment, then smirked.

"Actually, that is not a bad analogy...."

Her face turned serious.

"I wanted to explain last night," she offered.

"You don't owe me an explanation," he returned.

"I feel I do," she retorted. "Do you remember what I said this afternoon? How much I hate having my chain jerked? Last night, I felt I was being manipulated again - and not byyou.I snapped."

It was his turn to hold her face in his hands.

"I may be dense," he intoned, "but Idocatch on eventually. I figured all that out this morning. On top of everything else, they wanted their live sex show and you were not willing to give it to them. I have no problem with that. More than anything else, I am...elated you do not feel I was trying to use you the same way. What I do have a problem with is, we just met yesterday. How did they know we would want anything to do with each other on a personal level, and so soon?"

"Youare kidding, of course."

"I don't follow."

She stood up and turned around to face him. He was on his feet instantly, drawn to her like magnet to steel.

"I can't speak for you," she purred, "but how could any woman in her right mindnotbe attracted to you?"

He held her hands in his, not daring to believe the implication of her words.

"You know, the Arcturans are..." he began.

"...still watching," she finished. "I think I will leave them on 'Simmer' for a while."

"THEM?"

She kissed him softly on the lips.

"I want to thank you for a lovelyseconddate..." she cooed.

She placed her hand on his neck and smiled teasingly.

"... and look; no sword! I will look forward to ourthird date."

"I have heard about your American 'third dates'," Geoff said.

Giselle tilted her head slightly, smiled and winked.

"So have I. I have even been on a few," she murmured.

She would have to tell him, of course. She knew how the Arcturans knew the two of them "would want anything to do with each other" – and why he was there in the first place. There wereotherthings he deserved to know as well. She would wait until later, when they knew each other better. Perhaps then he would not be as likely to reject her in disgust. Giselle realized at that moment, for the first time in her life, she was being selfish.

He held her later, calming the tremors he had known would come.

"Giselle?"

"Yes, Geoffrey?"

"Is there anything thatdoes frighten you?"

She hadn't looked up. She clung to him, pressing the side of her face against his chest.

"Yes," she replied in a small, childlike voice. "Me."

She had fallen asleep in his arms, her face nuzzling his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt more at peace. In an insane conflict, what she –they– had done for the Golganthans was the ultimate insanity. He was certain there would be repercussions. But she was sleeping like a baby and he was equally certain he would do the same.