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A Woman of the Swamp
Reunited at Last

Reunited at Last

13. Reunited at Last

Marie picked her way through the hoard of zombies with surprising ease. They were slow and didn’t seem particularly interested. Occasionally, a zombie would make eyes at her and she would end the interaction with a quick jab from her spear. Based on the cacophony of gunshots echoing across the bayou, she suspected the others were having a much different experience. Despite it all, Marie moved through the swamp with a methodical calm.

The first rays of the morning sun gleamed on the water. Their brilliance was blinding, but Marie’s feet knew the path. Before she knew it, she was at the edge of the mangrove forest that marked the edge of the battlefield. Pulsating tendrils of purple light snaked through the tangled trees. In the heart of it all, she saw a pulsating light, brighter than the rest. She was almost there, Ray wasn’t far off.

You’ve become quite the killer, mused the dusty old voice in Marie’s head.

“And you’ve grown more talkative.” With no one around to hear her, Marie felt slightly comforted by answering the voice aloud.

You’re not going to like what you find in there.

Marie looked at the mangroves. She waited for the sinking feeling in her heart, but it never came. There was a dead certainty in its place that left her numb. “You’re not going to be around long after this, so get your words of wisdom in while you can.” Marie made her way to the trees, stepping out of the water and onto muddy, packed earth. The swamp still trickled below, but the massive wood roods ran together, tangling into a trail of sorts that led deeper into the forest.

Oh, I’ll be here long after you’re gone.

Marie waited for the voice to finish the thought, but it never did.

She followed the trail, winding her way away from the gunfire, feeling like a child out of a storybook. Deeper and deeper into the forest. The light above disappeared as the trees intertwined overhead, leaving her in a natural tunnel. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the trail ended, revealing a clearing with a large wicker structure in the middles. The trees still stretched tall, blocking the light, but the structure stood tall, nearly scraping their branches. At the top, a hole spewed purple energy, strong and vibrant.

Marie felt her hand twitch. “Stop that,” she hissed. Then the twitch became a cramp as her hand desperately reached forward, clawing at the air. Marie set the spear down and pressed between her thumb and finger as Lopsang taught her. It didn’t help and her fingers continued their mad scraping.

You’re going in there one way or another, said the voice.

Marie didn’t answer and stepped toward the structure, feeling a thrum of growing energy with each step.

Remember, you’re not alone.

Marie tried to speak, but the energy prevented her from doing so. Yearning in all forms took over every sensation in her body. Her brain screamed to turn back and burn the wicker building to the ground, but it was quickly silenced.

Do not run from this.

Static filled the air. Silent hissing replaced the gap between sounds, making every croak or creak sound like it was coming through an old-timey radio broadcast. Marie heard her breath, distorted and calm. The confidence she felt evaporated as she approached a door in the side of the structure. The energy only grew stronger the closer she got. Soon, her hand touched the rudimentary door and pushed it open. It swung open, revealing a tangled mass of light.

“Well, fancy seeing you again.” The Baron stepped into view, wearing a freshly pressed, dark purple suit with black trim. His hat was black to match and sported a plume of vibrant feathers tucked in the side.

Marie closed the door behind her. “Where is he?”

“Who?” The Baron grinned, his gold tooth glinting in the pulsating light.

“Don’t be an ass.”

Never make a deal with the devil.

“Oh shut up you old bag of bones,” said The Baron. “I am not The Devil, nor do I wish to be. Too many goddamned biblical commitments, and too much bureaucracy to get anything worth doing done.”

“Where is he?” repeated Marie, feeling the anger resonate through the static in a red wave.

“Ray? He’s right here, sugar.” The Baron stepped aside and waved his hand in a flourish.

Marie’s throat tightened. Ray stood shirtless with the staff in one hand and the other arm stretched toward the ceiling. Every muscle in his body flexed and twitched, furious with the effort and strain of magic. Cracks of purple light crisscrossed his body, and where they did, blood ran down to the floor. Based on the size of the pool below him, he didn’t have long left.

“So, how we going to do this?” asked Marie. “You going to let him go, or are we going to have to get nasty?”

The Baron laughed, the sound deep and resonant, filling the structure and every molecule of air in it. “Oh, you must know by now that I don’t get directly involved. If I did, it wouldn’t be a fair fight, and that would violate the terms of my contract with The Powers That Be.” The Baron flourished his hand and a long contract appeared, spilling toward the floor. With another wave, it was gone. “We could always make another deal if that’s your style. I could use someone that can handle the power a little better.” The Baron’s eyes flicked briefly to Ray and betrayed a feeling of petulant disappointment.

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“Not going to happen. I’ve been burned by your deals once, it’s not happening twice.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t make a second deal with me either. The terms get all screwy and extra-dimensional lawyers get involved. It’s really a pain.”

“Stop stalling.” Marie raised her hand and realized her spear was gone. Trickster gods.

“Don’t embarrass yourself by trying to punch a god. Many have tried, and many have looked the fool. If you want your husband back, he’s right there, but I don’t think he’s inclined to stop what he’s doing. You see, despite it all, he likes the power. That’s all your people want, power. When they get a taste of the real thing…” The Baron smacked his lips. “Mmhm, it is just too good. You can’t get enough of it. What’s the saying? Betcha can’t have just one?” The Baron cackled hysterically, doubling over.

“Then get the fuck out of my way.”

The Baron put a hand over his heart. “Of course. Like I said, I can’t interfere, I’m just here to watch.” He stepped to the side of the rounded wicker room and leaned against the wall, watching with palpable anticipation.

Marie ignored the smug look on his face and stepped forward. The air was noticeably hotter closer to Ray, and she feared that if she touched him, they both might burn. “Ray,” she started but felt a heavy winch close around her throat. Tears were welling in the corners of her eyes. Everything she put aside to get to that point fell away to the edges of nothing.

“Marie,” answered Ray through clear pain. “I’m a little busy at the moment.” He laughed, a horrible, echoing, wheezing sound.

“So, you are still in there?” Tears fell down her cheeks.

“What’s left of me anyway.” Ray turned his eyes to meet Marie’s, but only for a moment. They were full of purple flames, and the edges of his eyelids were blistered and black from the heat.

“You need to stop this, whatever it is you’re doing. Whatever he’s offering you, it’s not worth it.”

The Baron scoffed.

“Don’t interfere,” snapped Marie. “Just sit your devil ass on the wall over there if you can’t give us some goddamned privacy!”

“I would stop if I could.” Ray’s voice was quiet and strained. “If I try, this thing,” he flicked his eyes towards the staff, “isn’t going to be very happy with me.”

Marie waited for the dusty voice to reply, but it didn’t. “Then we’re going to do this together.” She reached out to the staff.

“No!” shouted Ray. “You don’t understand. You do that, I’m dead, you’re dead, we’re all dead.”

“You were never one to be afraid of death.”

Ray laughed again, the sound growing more maniacal. “Not my death, Marie, yours. I’m afraid of what the staff is going to make me do to you.”

Marie’s hand twitched involuntarily towards the staff.

“It’s still got a hold on you,” commented The Baron. “After all these years, it wants to go to your hand, Marie.”

“I said stay out—”

“I don’t want to do this. Please, just go,” Ray plead. A crack of light shot across his back, opening a fissure that spewed light. “Fuck! That never stops hurting.” He moaned in anguish.

Marie’s tears continued to flow. She felt responsible for Ray’s current predicament. I should have never picked up that staff in the first place.

Amen to that, said the voice.

Marie looked at the man that had been her husband. “Ray, one way or another, I’m ending this.” The finality in the words steeled her for what she would have to do next. She tried not to think too hard about the implications.

“I wish you wouldn’t do this.”

Marie inched closer. “Ray.”

“Marie.”

“I love you.”

Ray’s eyes widened with momentary clarity. “I love you too.”

She reached out and grabbed the staff. Immediately, a concussive force shook the structure and energy surged in a powerful bolt up Marie’s arm. She felt individual wood fibers running the length of the staff and the smooth, polished surface of the skull. It was a beautiful tool of death, and the power was more than she could have imagined. The sudden urge to release that power into the world, to help Ray strengthen the signal going out to the creatures in the swamp, was overpowering.

Looks like you could use a little help, said the voice.

The sounds of the room faded away to a base-level static, and the color left the room. Marie felt them before she saw them. Hundreds of spirits, all congregating in a circle around her.

Ray shouted something, but it was lost. Then, Marie was blown backward through the side of the wicker building faster than she realized she was airborne. The slap of tree branches knocked the wind out of her, but a hundred hands stopped her from snapping her spine on a tree. Marie sucked in air, breathing in the simultaneous rot, decay, and life that the swamp provided. Black spots dotted her vision as she approached unconsciousness, but a white hand touched her cheek and a gentle whisper of ‘no’ brought her back.

Hands pushed Marie to a standing position, steadying her. She looked down at her sides and saw a group of children helping her to her feet. Their pale figures smiled, encouraging. Dazed, Marie walked back to the structure. Ray stood inside, staff at the ready, pointing it right at her. She felt no fear. Tiny bursts of energy surrounded her, propelling her forward to this one moment, her destiny. This was atonement.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the sound swallowed by the void. She hoped Ray could hear the words. “I’m sorry for all of this.”

Ray shouted something, anger rising into his flaming eyes. He charged her, swinging the staff down in a high arc. It crackled with purple energy, and Marie suspected that whatever spell it had been imbued with would hurt. Instinctively, she reached, guided by the spirits around her, and grabbed the staff as it fell. Ethereal hands reached with her, filling her skin, mirroring her fingers, and gripping the staff at the same moment.

Ray’s swing stopped dead, sending another rippling shockwave through the building, blowing sticks and twigs out in all directions.

Destroy it, whispered a different, quieter voice in Marie’s ear.

Return the creatures to the earth, came another.

Stop this nonsense.

Marie looked directly into Ray’s eyes, seeing the rage and anger there. She did her best to muster a final moment of kindness for the man. This is the least I can do. She remembered kissing his clammy forehead before heading to the voodoo shop that night. Remembered sitting by his bedside and reading while he tossed and turned from the violent radiation tremors. She remembered the sweet smell of flowers at their wedding. She felt the sweet pull of his body against hers when they would rest together before the hospital beds. The crushing weight of it all compounded on her heart bringing fresh tears.

She did her best to channel all of those feelings into a single glance that would have to last for eternity. It was the last thing Ray was going to see, and she wanted it to be sweet. Then, she released the power, rage, sadness, and melancholy through her fingertips and into the staff. It seeped through the smooth grains she had polished herself. The light moved with blinding speed, engulfing everything.

It moved beyond the staff, creating heat and an energy of its own, encompassing the hateful magic traveling to the swamp. Marie tried to focus on Ray’s eyes, but the light was blinding. Heat came in a fierce wave. She drifted away and did not fight it. The world went from a bright white to the deepest black. Then, on the other side of nothing, Marie slept, truly slept, for the first time in years.