roiled her stomach.
“Thanks for bailing my ass out up there,” Megan said, slapping
Rebecca between the shoulder blades, jostling her already queasy stomach.
“That’ll teach me to check my ropes before I throw myself down a damn wall.”
Rebecca nodded, wondering if she was turning green. She dropped
her ropes and ran to the trees.
I will not throw up. Staring at the
ground, she took deep breaths. I will not throw up. I will
not throw up. Never again.
After the wave of nausea subsided, she turned back, hoping to
return before anyone noticed she’d left. She collided with Sparks.
“Sorry.” She backed up a few paces, a bit chagrined that the
older Amazon hadn’t even budged an inch when Rebecca had plowed into her.
“That was brave.” Sparks handed her a peppermint, and then she
fished a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket, tapped one out and lit it with
her thumb. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Yeah, well…” Rebecca inclined her head back to the trees.
“It’s not brave to almost barf when you’re afraid.”
“It’s brave to do something that terrifies you to keep someone
you care about safe. You and Megan are sisters now, aren’t you?”
Rebecca nodded without hesitation. She and Megan were like
night and day, sweet and sour. Just like real sisters—different, yet still so
much alike.
“You proved it on that tower.” Sparks drew a deep pull from her
cigarette and blew the smoke out in a slim stream. “I might be wrong about you.
You just might make an Amazon yet.”
“Gee, thanks. I think.”
“Let’s see how you do when I shoot you.”
“Excuse me?” Rebecca screeched.
“Artair’s getting a gun. I’m gonna shoot you both a few times
so you won’t be afraid of bullets.” Sparks smirked. “I almost peed my pants the
first time my Guardian aimed a revolver at me.”
“You’re insane. I’m not going to let you shoot me.”
But Rebecca did. Though Artair had to spend a good ten minutes
bellowing at her to get her to stand still. After listening to his badgering,
death would be easier to take than another agonizing lecture.
She and Megan stood holding hands while Sparks loaded and aimed
Megan’s pistol. Rebecca tried to draw on Megan’s strength, but her sister’s
normal cockiness had vanished.
“What do Indians always say? Oh, yeah. ‘Today is a good day to
die,’” Megan said with a nervous laugh.
“Yeah, well… I don’t think any day’s a good day to die. But it appears I don’t have a choice.” Rebecca threw a
glower at Artair. “Isn’t Sparks supposed to be Guardian? I don’t think our
Guardian should murder us.”
“Would you feel better if Artie killed us?”
Rebecca squeezed Megan’s hand, sending the strength of their
connection to her sister. “Let’s just consider this our swan song as Amazons.
You know—going out in a blaze of glory.” She started to hum the Jon Bon Jovi
song of the same title.
Megan chuckled, regaining her aplomb.
“Ready?” Sparks asked, shifting her aim between her two
targets. “Who gets it first? Shoulder or chest? Either of you have a
preference?”
“Shoot the gun,” Artair barked. “Keeping them waiting is worse
than the deed.”
Rebecca gave Megan’s hand another squeeze and closed her eyes.
The first crack of gunfire made them fly back open.
The shot hit Megan in the chest. She jerked as she stumbled
back. Rebecca waited for blood to soak her shirt, but it never did.
Megan brushed her hands over her breasts. “You missed!” Then
her fingers found the hole in her T-shirt. Reaching up under the shirt, she
poked her finger out of the bullet hole. “I guess you didn’t miss.” She whipped her shirt over her head. A large red welt
was forming on her tanned chest, but the bullet hadn’t penetrated her skin.
“Holy shit.”
The second shot reverberated in the air before Rebecca could
even prepare herself. Her shoulder hurt as if someone had just given her an
extraordinarily strong
“Thanks for bailing my ass out up there,” Megan said, slapping
Rebecca between the shoulder blades, jostling her already queasy stomach.
“That’ll teach me to check my ropes before I throw myself down a damn wall.”
Rebecca nodded, wondering if she was turning green. She dropped
her ropes and ran to the trees.
I will not throw up. Staring at the
ground, she took deep breaths. I will not throw up. I will
not throw up. Never again.
After the wave of nausea subsided, she turned back, hoping to
return before anyone noticed she’d left. She collided with Sparks.
“Sorry.” She backed up a few paces, a bit chagrined that the
older Amazon hadn’t even budged an inch when Rebecca had plowed into her.
“That was brave.” Sparks handed her a peppermint, and then she
fished a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket, tapped one out and lit it with
her thumb. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Yeah, well…” Rebecca inclined her head back to the trees.
“It’s not brave to almost barf when you’re afraid.”
“It’s brave to do something that terrifies you to keep someone
you care about safe. You and Megan are sisters now, aren’t you?”
Rebecca nodded without hesitation. She and Megan were like
night and day, sweet and sour. Just like real sisters—different, yet still so
much alike.
“You proved it on that tower.” Sparks drew a deep pull from her
cigarette and blew the smoke out in a slim stream. “I might be wrong about you.
You just might make an Amazon yet.”
“Gee, thanks. I think.”
“Let’s see how you do when I shoot you.”
“Excuse me?” Rebecca screeched.
“Artair’s getting a gun. I’m gonna shoot you both a few times
so you won’t be afraid of bullets.” Sparks smirked. “I almost peed my pants the
first time my Guardian aimed a revolver at me.”
“You’re insane. I’m not going to let you shoot me.”
But Rebecca did. Though Artair had to spend a good ten minutes
bellowing at her to get her to stand still. After listening to his badgering,
death would be easier to take than another agonizing lecture.
She and Megan stood holding hands while Sparks loaded and aimed
Megan’s pistol. Rebecca tried to draw on Megan’s strength, but her sister’s
normal cockiness had vanished.
“What do Indians always say? Oh, yeah. ‘Today is a good day to
die,’” Megan said with a nervous laugh.
“Yeah, well… I don’t think any day’s a good day to die. But it appears I don’t have a choice.” Rebecca threw a
glower at Artair. “Isn’t Sparks supposed to be Guardian? I don’t think our
Guardian should murder us.”
“Would you feel better if Artie killed us?”
Rebecca squeezed Megan’s hand, sending the strength of their
connection to her sister. “Let’s just consider this our swan song as Amazons.
You know—going out in a blaze of glory.” She started to hum the Jon Bon Jovi
song of the same title.
Megan chuckled, regaining her aplomb.
“Ready?” Sparks asked, shifting her aim between her two
targets. “Who gets it first? Shoulder or chest? Either of you have a
preference?”
“Shoot the gun,” Artair barked. “Keeping them waiting is worse
than the deed.”
Rebecca gave Megan’s hand another squeeze and closed her eyes.
The first crack of gunfire made them fly back open.
The shot hit Megan in the chest. She jerked as she stumbled
back. Rebecca waited for blood to soak her shirt, but it never did.
Megan brushed her hands over her breasts. “You missed!” Then
her fingers found the hole in her T-shirt. Reaching up under the shirt, she
poked her finger out of the bullet hole. “I guess you didn’t miss.” She whipped her shirt over her head. A large red welt
was forming on her tanned chest, but the bullet hadn’t penetrated her skin.
“Holy shit.”
The second shot reverberated in the air before Rebecca could
even prepare herself. Her shoulder hurt as if someone had just given her an
extraordinarily strong
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