To Love and Blood

Layla watches on warily as the jeep she's in stops at a roadblock manned by armed police. Peeking around the edge of the jeep, Layla can see that the men wear heavy black kevlar vests with shining black guns resting unused in their hands.

The men yell in Arabic as the two jeeps pull over and Harrow steps out, the sun shining silver on his greying hair. His cane glows a threatening purple as he walks closer to the police that raise their weapons and back away.

“Show us your papers.” One of the men demands as Harrow keeps walking forward calmly.

“I don't need to show you my papers,” Harrow responds, grabbing the man's arms and holding them tightly in his grasp as he places his cane between them, “You need to show us your soul.”

A gasp escapes Layla as purple beams of light shoot out of each soldier's chest, up into the bright blue sky as they fall in heaps, dead. Only one man remains, frantically calling for back up over his radio as Harrow walks closer to him.

“This is the face of a good man!” Harrow declares to his followers, turning and ordering them, “Clear the bodies out of the way, clear a path. Let's go!”

Turning the short blade over in her palm, Layla prepares to dart forward and end all this. There's no chance she'll survive, but she doesn't care anymore. All Layla wants is revenge and she will get it no matter what.

“Don't do it!” A high pitched voice says from behind her.

Looking over her shoulder, Layla only sees the still body of a dead soldier. Deciding that she is clearly going insane, Layla ignores it and creeps around the jeep to get closer to Harrow's open and vulnerable back.

“Layla, I'm the goddess Tarwet.” The same sweet voice says again, this time from the mouth of a soldier lying dead next to Laylas feet, “Layla, it's Marc telling you to stop.”

“What the hell is this?” Layla asks herself as the soldier flumps back down, dead again.

The soldier gasps a breath as Tarwet speaks through him again, “He's dead.”

“And I'm talking to you through dead people right now, so what?” Layla quips, deciding to just go along with the impossibility of all this.

Layla moves along the side of the jeep and presses herself closer to it as Harrow turns around before turning back to who he is talking with. The knife is heavy in Layla's hand.

“Look, Harrow’s too powerful for you to stop him alone.” Tarwet says, “If Marc can return to life-”

“What do you mean ‘return to life’?” Layla interrupts, a slow steady hope beginning to rise in her heart.

“He is going to need Konshue.” Tarwet tells her, fighting to keep the connection open, “Break his ushabti, it's in the chamber of the gods.”

Layla thinks this over and nods to herself as the soldier falls back before quickly jerking up again as Tarwets excited and loud voice emerges again.

“And you can be my avatar!” The goddess squeals excitedly, “Marc and Kat say wonderful things about you!”

Layla's eyes widen as Harrows head turns towards her hiding spot at Tarwets loud voice.

“Shh!” Layla shushes the goddess, quieting down, “I'll fight him on my own.”

Tarwet disappears from the soldier's body, leaving Layla alone again surrounded by Harrow's followers and the man himself.

“It's time to go!” Harrow calls, prompting his followers to reload into the jeeps.

Tightening the scarf around her face, Layla does the same and hops into the back of the jeep, laying down flat to avoid detection. She now has a plan, no longer just aimless revenge. She will find the ushabti, release Konshue, save Marc and Steven, and then kill them again for leaving her like this.

***

The beach rumbles beneath them like an earthquake, sand shifting and vibrating with the force. Standing on unsteady legs, Kat, Marc, and Steven hold onto each other as they look around for the reason of the violent shaking.

“What the hell is that?” Kat asks, stumbling as she grasps tightly onto Steven and Marc.

“The gates.” Steven breathes, brown eyes widening as a large smile creeps over his face, “The gates of Osiris! Come on, let's go!”

Steven grabs Kats hand and pulls her long towards the awaiting door. Reaching back, Kat grabs Marc's hand and together the three of them stumble their way out onto the deck of the boat.

The sky crackles above them in an angry violent purple hue, brilliant streaks of light falling from the sky and kicking up dust as they land with mighty crashes in the desert below. A sight like a meteor storm raining down upon them. Ahead of them, tall and imposing, steeped in shadow and framed by large statues, is the gates of Osiris.

They linger in the distance, seeming so far away, as the boat glides towards it. Tarwet stands at the mast, steering around the shooting beams of light.

“Tarwet, what's happening?” Steven asks, shouting over the noise of the lights shooting across the sky and crashing.

“I've never seen the gates to the world above so close before.” Tarwet utters quietly, large eyes captured by the sight of Osiris's gates.

Kat feels her heart break for the goddess, voice filled with a quiet awe.

“How do we open them?” Marc asks, already focused on the next steps to get back to life and stop Harrow.

“Door handles?” Kat suggests with a mirthful smile, chuckling as Marc rolls his eyes and waves her away.

“Oh that was terrible.” Steven laughs, wrinkling his nose at her joke with a goofy crooked smile and bright shining eyes.

“Wasn't as bad as yours.” Marc rebuffs, a teasing smile creeping onto his face, “I mean c'mon, ‘A-maze-ing’? That was just painful.”

“That was a good one!” Kat defends, bumping her shoulder against Stevens, “Cheesy as hell, but good.”

Tarwet watches the three of them with sad eyes, large hands twisting together as she eyes the still shifting scale. Kats heart is yet to be weighed, but Tarwet has a feeling that it will never be weighed. Bastets strength must have been slowly returning during this time as Tarwet can see the power of a goddess beginning to glow brighter around the woman.

“Uh, guys,” Tarwet calls, interrupting the three regretfully, “I'm so sorry, your scales never balanced.”

“What?” Steven gapes as Marc’s brows furrow.

Kats heart sinks to her feet, dead weight in her body. Her gaze slowly slides over to the mockingly tilting scales, two crystalline hearts laying on one side against the feather as it rocks unsteadily back and forth.

“Our journeys come to an end. I cannot stop the inevitable.” Tarwet wipes tears from her eyes as Kat wracks her mind for a solution, but finds none.

“I was really rooting for you guys,” Tarwet continues, “but the unbalanced souls of the duat now must claim yours.”

Before Kat can protest, Tarwet disappears into the air, leaving no trace behind. Stevens' startled yelp brings Kats attention around to the deck of the boat. Her face contorts into a disgusted, definitely not scared at all, expression. Nose wrinkling as her lips curl into a snarl. Walking, well, more like stumbling, towards them are dead bodies, pale and coated in sand that's encrusted to their greenish skin that's rotting below. Their eyes are dead and pale as the moon as they open their mouths that house sharp sickly yellow teeth and give a guttural shout.

“Marc, they don't look very friendly.” Steven whimpers, breath quick as his heart hammers against his ribcage.

Looking over at Marc, Kat sees his brows drawn darkly over his face as his frown deepens, a spark of recognition in his eyes as he watches the zombie sand creature hobbling towards them.

“Gabon, New York, Dubai.” Marc whispers, regret lacing his voice as his eyes close tightly against the waves of emotions welling within.

Kat looks back at the creatures and pulls Steven behind her as she shuffles them back away from the advancing creatures, settling into a defensive crouch and keeping her fists raised and ready for action.

“So, do we have a plan or are we just going to improv this?” Kat asks, wincing at the shake in her voice, “Cause I don't know about you, but I don't wanna get stuck in the sands.”

Marc opens his mouth to respond when a sandy fist crashes with his jaw and sends him stumbling back. The creatures have picked up their speed and are now actually fighting instead of just threateningly hobbling.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Kat shouts as one darts forward and narrowly misses her as she pulls herself and Steven down, “Okay, Steven you stay hidden. I'll come back for you, I promise.”

Stevens' eyes widen as he stares at Kats gently smiling face, awe struck and afraid. Surging forward, he places a soft, lingering kiss on Kats lips, pulling back with a blush and looking down at the wood of the deck with much interest.

“As if I needed any more reason to get rid of these guys quickly.” Kat jokes, heat warming her own cheeks as she pulls herself away and shakes her head to focus.

Her mask slides into place, a face of cold and empty focus with one goal. Her eyes narrow in on the three sand creatures ganging up on Marc. Even Kat knows it's rude to gang up on someone, it's time these sand zombies learned the same.

Grabbing a crate from the deck, Kat smashes it against the side of the boat and grabs one of the shattered sharp pieces of wood. With her new crudely made weapon, Kat runs over to help Marc. Swinging wide, she hits the creature currently fighting Marc in the head and sends it stumbling back.

“Stop being a dick!” Kat shouts breathily, turning quickly to hit the creature advancing on her from behind, “Can't we all just be friends?”

A sandy hand grabs her hair and tugs harshly, sending sparks of burning pain flooding over her scalp as Kat stumbles back.

“Nope, never mind.” Kat corrects herself, shoving the creature away with a grunt, “Not friends. We're enemies now, bud.”

“Stop talking and start fighting.” Marc shouts from where he is throwing a creature off of his back, panting heavily as he begins to grow tired from the onslaught of enemies.

Kat grunts as a creature is able to get past her reflexes and lands a tooth rattling punch to her cheek, pain blossoming and spreading across her face in rippling waves. Ducking away, Kat hisses as she feels the tell tale trickle of wet blood against her cheek and the scratching cut of rough sand stuck in her skin.

“Yeah, yep, good idea.” Kat agrees, stabbing one of the creatures through the abdomen with the wooden stick and groaning loudly as it becomes stuck in the creatures somehow still alive and moving body.

The creature howls and rips the wood from its stomach and throws it over the side, rushing at Kat as she slides under its legs and pops up on the other side. Marc comes out of nowhere and bodily shoves the creature away, eyes quickly scanning over Kat for any injuries, frowning as they catch on the red stained blossoming bruise on her cheek.

“Watch out!” Stevens' voice shouts from where he is crouched down against the ship's wheel.

Kat's eyes catch on a flash of movement behind Marc and, before she can even think properly about it, Kat tackles Marc to the floor just as a crate flies overhead, crashing into bits in the sand below.

Pushing herself up to her forearms, Kats breath comes in quick puffs, mingling with Marcs as their faces stay close. Brown wide eyes stare at her as Kat grins down at Marc, giddy with adrenaline.

Marc's breath catches as he feels Kat on top of him, her bright eyes sparkling, flushed lips and cheeks glowing in the light of the boat.

Marc's hand comes up to rest on Kats cheek, thumb stroking softly as Kats cheeks puff in a wide smile and leans into the touch.

A shooting pain flares over Kats shoulder, sharp and persistent as she is shoved away and lands in a heap against the side of the ship, head spinning at the sudden turn of events. Blinking her eyes, Kat looks up and realizes that she was just hit by a crate and now said thrower of the crate is beginning to drag Marc towards the side.

Stevens' head spins as he watches Marc caressing Kats cheek, but the smile that lights up Kats face tamps down any jealousy he could feel. Perhaps his rivalry with Marc is unnecessary, perhaps this isn't a clear cut ‘one or the other’ situation. Just as Steven is coming to terms with this, a large crate comes flying out of nowhere and crashes into Kat, sending her off of Marc and into the side of he boat. Steven shouts as he watches with horror as Kats body crumples down, blood beginning to trickle down from her forehead and nose.

His eyes dart over to Marc and his heart stills as he sees the creature grab Marc and drag him towards the edge of the boat, unrelenting as Marc struggles against its grasp.

“No!” Steven shouts, his body wanting to run out and help, but his mind holding him back, instead shouting support, “Marc, you've got this!”

Marc does not ‘got this’. The shock slows his movements as he struggles to get away from the sand creature that presses him against the side and prepares to throw him over.

“But if I'm you..” Steven whispers to himself, eyes catching on a solid wooden stick laying idly on the ground, eyes growing as an idea comes to him, “it means I've got this too..”

Steven trails off as he darts out of his hiding spot to grab the stick, turning it over in his hand and testing the weight. Confidence fills Steven as he breathes deeply and stands up, squaring his shoulders and giving a yell as he runs over and smacks the creature away from Marc with the stick.

“Six!” Steven shouts proudly, a wide smile cracking over his face, telling Marc happily, “I prefer cricket.”

With a grateful huff, Marc gives Steven a crooked grin and together the two begin batting away the sand creatures, trying to distract them as Kat regains her strength. Kat watches proudly as the two men work in tandem, working as one to fight the sand creatures, their movements matching each other.

Rubbing her sore arms, Kat groans and gets back to her feet, running over and joining the fray. Together the three of them take turns batting away the surrounding creatures, with Steven shouting cricket scores and Marc and Kat just grunting and swearing colorfully.

Everything is going so well, and then, in a single split second, everything changes. A creature grabs ahold of Steven and shoves him back. Kat and Marc stand frozen as Steven stumbles back and falls over the side of the ship, falling down, down, down, into the dooming sands below.

In an instant, the creatures sink into sand once again, but Marc and Kat don't even notice as they run to the side and shout for Steven, voices torn and desperate.

Kats heart is wilting and dying in her chest as the ship keeps moving, forcing Steven to run after it. Marc shouts for the ship to stop, for Steven to run faster, for anything to save his other half, but it's all useless. Kats vision blurs as tears begin to steam down her face, watching as Stevens steps slow, his face dropping into a resigned horror. Until he falls to his knees, hands reaching out in one last attempt to reach them, before his face becomes frozen in the sands, frozen in his grief.

Marc lets out a guttural, tortured yell and pounds his fist against the wood of the boat. Kats legs fail her and she is forced to lean against the siding as she feels a numb broken emptiness fill her, the pain too much to possibly bare.

Marc's broken and tearfilled eyes meet hers, searching for any semblance of comfort, any sign that he's not alone in this pain. Kat gives a small watery smile, assuring him that she's there, and leans forward to pull him into an embrace when a warm glowing light suddenly begins growing around her. Marc's eyes go wide and panicked as Kat is surrounded by golden light, her own panic shining violently in her eyes as she tries to reach out to Marc again.

“Kat!” Marc shouts, trying to grab her but his hands just passes through as if she's a ghost as the golden light grows and grows until it's blinding, “Kat, no!”

“Marc!” Kat shouts back, her voice echoing on the silent wind as she feels herself floating away, struggling to fight against the power drawing her away, “Marc!”

The light envelopes Kat just as Marc tries to grab her again, hands coming back with nothing as she disappears entirely, leaving Marc all alone on the boat.

The clink of chains echoes in the silence of the boat, bringing Marcs attention to the tauntingly gleaming golden scale as it settles into a balance. Tarwet appears in front of the scales, staring down at them with wonder.

Marc feels empty as the wind whispers its songs against his skin, and he lowers his head and finally lets the tears out of their cage. A shaking gut wrenching painful sob emerges from deep within Marc's soul as he hangs his head and closes his eyes to the brushing wind, letting it take him away in its embrace.