Chapter 32
Vincent dragged Josephine through the crowd, his hand clasped around her wrist. He tugged so hard that her hand turned blue as he threaded through the crowd of Elders who had resumed their display of distaste by ignoring our presence. George stormed after them, attempting in his fury to barge through the Elders in his path, but only succeeded in bouncing off and staggering through them like a pinball.
As soon as we had reached the glass corridor that ringed the courtyard George seized Vincent's shoulder and wrenched it backwards, breaking the grip on his wife's wrist. Josephine slapped Vincent across his face. He turned to spit blood but was interrupted as George threw him against the glass. The clear window caved into a spider web of cracks behind him.
"Absolutely and categorically no!" George bellowed into Vincent's face.
After he was released Vincent slowly wiped the spittle from his eyes and composed himself, drawing on his last reserves of self control to remain calm.
"Do you even remember the reason you joined us?" said Vincent. "It was not out of concern for the troops, they meant less the nothing to you, you dedicated your existence to hunting and exterminating them."
George stiffened but said nothing. I placed my hand on George's shoulder. He was far to angry to ever be persuaded by Vincent.
"You joined the Rogues to be with your long lost wife, to have a chance of a life together, away from your masters who had ripped you from each other", I said. "To be perfectly honest it was a slim chance. I am certain that you both knew you would likely die in the attempt. I saw the way you held hands and marched together to meet Abiowe and the Elders tonight".
The tension in his shoulders lessened as he realised the truth in my words.
"Now you do not have to die together. We have achieved what you both wanted, now you can live together".
George nodded and turned to face me. My lips split into a grin. We had done it. We were free. As Elders we had unlimited agency to go wherever and do whatever we pleased. My colleague since the last rebellion now my friend in the new one of our making, was ready to embark on this new liberated life alongside Vincent and me; until he met his wife's gaze. George realised then that Josephine had been with the Rogues since they had lost each other. She had lead them the whole time that he had assumed her to be dead. They were her family as much as he was. She moved to protest but he already understood.
"No!" barked George and shook his shoulder free of my hand.
"We made them. The Rogue army is our responsibility. I will not sacrifice them to join our enemy". George's eyes bulged and a vein in his forehead pulsated. His anger was matched by that of his wife. Josephine's eyes were ablaze with rage. The two of them were poised to destroy. They would carve a path through all that obstructed them.
I looked to Josephine to plead with her to see reason, but she shot me a glare of loathing.
"You would betray uz?" she asked, her voice softer than her expression, showing the hurt cut deeper than rage.
Vincent had seen enough. We had both reasoned with them but had failed to convince them to join us. Now from his perspective they were a lost cause. Vincent sighed mournfully and dropped to one knee. Bemused, the three of us watched as he drew a small snub nosed revolver from a concealed holster on his ankle, leapt up and pressed the short barrel against Josephine's unscarred cheek.
"You will not take this from me!" Vincent growled. His hand trembled with rage.
"You had a gun with you the whole time? Where the fuck was it when we attacked Verenious?" I said.
"I did my part", Vincent snarled in response.
George advanced, murder in his eyes. Vincent dug the barrel of the gun into Josephine's face. Her grimace instantly halted George's aggressive advance. Vincent looked to me for support. My face gave nothing away, for events had unfolded so rapidly, creating a world entirely different from everything I knew, that I did not know my own mind. Vincent narrowed his eyes at me, mistaking my indecisiveness as stubbornness.
"We have everything we could ever want and you want to throw it away for what? To lead a group of misfits to slaughter? To scuttle away and hide in fear?" he asked.
Fury had consumed George. He no longer heard Vincent's words. All he saw was the pain in his wife's face.George could not advance for fear of Vincent's finger on the trigger. Instead he paced around him, encircling his prey and waiting for the opportune moment to pounce. Vincent was well aware of the ferocity of the two killers he was trapped between. The passion in his expression had faded, to be replaced by fear.
"Are you with me Fleming?"
I was struggling to work out the lesser evil: whether to abandon my friends or to throw away the future I had just begun to believe in. Both Josephine and George sensed the moment of hesitation and simultaneously capitalised on the moment of weakness.
Josephine squirmed away from the gun barrel and drove her elbow into Vincent's ribs. His grip loosened, giving George enough time to close the distance between them and land a rapid series of blows. Vincent released Josephine and raised his hands to protect his face. Josephine grasped his gun hand and span on her heel, wrenching Vincent's arm behind his back as she pirouette around him. With a wet crunch his wrist snapped and his fingers slipped from the small pistol, which was palmed expertly by Josephine in one fluid twist.
Vincent stumbled forward and fell to his knees. Josephine blew her long red hair our of her eyes as she placed the gun at the back of Vincent's head.
'Whoa! Calm down', I cried, lunging forwards and reached for the gun.
My peacekeeping intentions were interpreted as an attack. I brought my forearm down onto the crook of Josephine's arm, forcing the gun barrel away from the back of Vincent's head. She fought to regain her point blank aim but her fingers involuntary squeezed. A shot rang out. The bullet lodged harmlessly in the ceiling, unleashing a cascade of old plaster onto our heads.
Through her long fringe I saw Josephine's eyes harden. She had been unsure of my loyalty but now we both knew where it lay. As the gunshot echoed painfully in both our ears we understood that there was no going back. My instincts had made the decision for me. I recognised a flicker of sadness in Josephine's face but it was quickly drowned out with rage. Betrayal no longer hurt her, it infuriated her.
I moved to speak. I was too slow. Cold metal clanged against my front teeth and my mouth filled with blood. Josephine swung the small pistol again. It crashed onto my cranium, sending vibrations of sharp pain reverberating down to my jaw. Blood gushed from my forehead, pouring down my face and blinding me with the stinging saltiness. Instinctively I ignored the pain and focused. Josephine had given up raining blows with the small pistol. I knew she would open fire at any moment. Seeing only a red haze, I thrust myself forwards, flailing wildly with both arms, searching frantically for a handhold. The crack of a gunshot too close to my ear further disorientated me. The bullet passed by so closely that I felt the air disturbance. My outstretched fingers found the silk of Josephine's blouse sleeve. I clamped on and thrashed, throwing off any chance of an aim. The pistol spat with it's painfully loud purpose once more. I stumbled backwards to the ground.
My legs had given way but I had not felt the sharp pain of a bullet wound. Taking advantage of the eerily silent moment, I wiped the blood from my eyes. I stared up through the scarlet haze to see Josephine. In her arms was her husband. George was gargling bubbles of blood as he leant heavily upon Josephine. Her eyes were wide with shock.
"I am sorry mon cherie, Je suis desole!" she sobbed.
George's legs gave way completely sending them both tumbling to the ground in front of me. As they fell I saw a gaping exit wound on the side of his head. True to form he had rushed in to aid his wife but my desperate jolting of Josephine's arm had set off the shot that brought him down.
Sliding crab-like away from them, I wiped the remaining blood from my eyes. Josephine had forgotten I was even there. She was consumed panic and guilt. The brutal warrior she had become fell away, to reveal the young woman I had once known before the world had hardened her. She looked deep into George's dimming eyes. Compassion and love flowing from her as strongly as the tears. He managed a weak smile.
"I loved the way you used to wear your hair up", George said.
Josephine snorted a laugh though her sobs. She gathered her wild tangle of red hair in her blood stained hands and fashioned it into a loose bun.
"Iz zat better?" Josephine asked, returning the warmth of George's smile.
"C'est beau", said George. His eyelids faltered and slowly closed.
"Hold on ma chérie, drink from zis".
Josephine pulled a small flask from her pocket. One hand still clasped by her husband, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and dripped the blood from the small flask onto his lips while she sang softly to him, a song from their old life together.
"Reviens!, veux-tu?
Ton absence a brisé ma vie
Aucune femme, vois-tu
N'a jamais pris ta place en mon cœur, amie
Reviens!, veux-tu?
Car ma souffrance est infinie
Je veux retrouver tout mon bonheur perdu
Reviens !, Reviens !, veux-tu?"
I signalled to Vincent with a nod. The two of us backed away down the glass corridor, leaving our comrades behind.