Apocalyptic Montessa and Nuclear Lulu: A tale of Atomic Love (16 page)

“Let her go,” the officer shouted into the bull horn. “We have a sniper who will take the shot. Let the woman and child go free.”

“Do it, baby,” he whispered, and kissed her behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered closed. “Take the baby and go to them. Tell them you were a victim.”

“Lu…”

“I can’t go to jail, do you understand? I can’t be locked up in that box. Do this for me, okay, my love? Let me go.”

“But…”

“Please!” he screamed, and Montessa jerked away. The baby howled.

“Please,” he said again, softer, and the smoke brought tears to his eyes. He was backlit by the burning house, an extraordinary beast. Beauty and horror in motion.

He took a step backwards, closer toward the door.

Another.

Montessa felt around with her mind. Saw. Saw the officers clutch their guns, their fingers tightening on the trigger.

One more step,
one of them thought.
One more and we’ll have a clean shot.

Montessa swallowed hard. Looked at the sea of faces in front of her. The screams and wails of the baby,
of the dying house. She slid her foot behind her. Moved slowly. The other. Pressed her back against Lu’s chest.

“What are you doing?” he asked her. His voice cracked.
“I told you I can’t let them take me!”

“They’re not going to take you.”

“Ma’am!” The voice on the bullhorn tried to sound kind, she thought. Tried to sound reasonable and supportive, but it sounded like every other man she’d ever met. Everyone but her Nuclear Lulu.

“Ma’am! Walk over to us slowly. Bring the baby.”

She pressed even closer to Lu. He took another step backwards, and she did, as well.

“Ma’am!”

“Step inside the door,” she said, and was surprised at how calm she was. How peaceful. This was what doing the right thing felt like. This is what happened when you reached the end.

“Montessa, I don’t—”

“Do it.”

He slid through the doorframe, heedless of the heat and flames. Disappeared inside.

“Ma’am! Now is your chance. Bring the baby out, please.”

Montessa looked at the child. What an ugly thing. So small, so scared, so doomed to live a horrible, miserable life, just as she had.

“Ma’am! I will not ask you again.”

Only this child didn’t have her father to spoil it. Maybe there was hope. Maybe this scrawny sack of ribs and vertebras could grow up to be something…amazing.

“Remember that you’re special,” she whispered to it again, and kissed its wrinkled face. She crouched down and gently placed the baby on the ground. Stepped through the door after Lu. Chased him down the hall into the heart of the fire. Threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.

“Are you crazy? Are you crazy, Montessa?”

He kissed her again and again. Her scalding skin, her singeing hair, her blistering lips. The inferno wasn’t affecting him, but her? She was going up in flames, just as she always knew she would. Burning as a candle. A wick. A witch.

She breathed in the smo
ke but choked. The hot air burned her lungs and she tried not to scream. Tried to hide her agony. Pressed herself into her lover and thought about him instead.

Her clothes were smoking, the blood on her shoes baking and smelling like spoiled, grilling meat. Tears ran down her sooty face, as they ran down his. But he was smiling.

“I love you,” he said. He said it into her mouth, her face, her neck. “I love you, I love you.”

She opened her eyes, which burned and stung. She licked the tears off his cheek.

“Happy tears. Tastes sweet,” she said, and coughed.

Lu held her. Held his wife. Kissed her fingertips and her red thread wedding ring. Kissed her long and hard and deep. He was still kissing her, holding her, running his hands over her smooth skin when he thrust the knife up under her ribs, straight into her heart.

Montessa convulsed. Shivered and shook. Blood ran from the wound, ran from her mouth. She stared at Lu and stared and stared until her pale eyes were wide, until there wasn’t anything to stare at anymore. Lu cradled her body, held her close. Watched her hair ignite, her clothes combust. Her flesh seared and peeled away. Still he held her.

“I love you, baby. I’ll be right there.”

He dropped the knife on the ground. The First Kill knife, which was now his Last Kill knife. It sparkled in the firelight. Shone. Was more perfect than it had ever been. He held the body of his wife in his bloody arms. His other half. Apocalyptic Montessa, counterpart to his Nuclear Lulu.

He took the gun from its holder, held it under his chin with one hand. Kept Montessa close with the other. Watched her ignite completely, watched her body leave this world in the grandest of manners. He’d go next. Be right behind.

A single shot. That was all.

That was all.

APOCALYPTIC NOTES

The concept for
Apocalyptic Montessa and Nuclear Lulu: A Tale of Atomic Love
has been flitting around in my head for a while now.  I thought it would be lighter, a whimsical tale of two quirky people in
love.  Ultimately, it turned out much darker and deliciously bloody.

I’ve always thought the idea of soul mates was a romantic notion, but I don’t believe there is one specific person out there waiting to be found. Knowing my luck, my soul mate would be murderous or killed, and I’d be chained to them forever in misery. No, thank you, and I think Montessa echoes my take on them.

But still, I wanted to explore that notion, the idea of being swept away, of putting two people together and having a lethal match. Together, they do the most horrible of things. But they also love in a very real, very fierce way. I wanted there to be some sympathy for Apocalyptic Montessa and her Nuclear Lulu. They are two broken people who can’t be fixed, but they hold each other together as best they can. There’s a tragic sweetness to them.

Ultimately Apocalyptic Montessa is a love story, not a romance or a horror. Love can be horrible, true, but ultimately this is a tale about doomed adoration.
             

Mercedes M. Yardley

Las Vegas

8-28-13

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

MERCEDES M. YARDLEY
(@mercedesmy) wears red lipstick and poisonous flowers in her hair.
Apocalyptic Montessa and Nuclear Lulu: A Tale of Atomic Love
is her first work for Ragnarok Publications. Mercedes has been published in several diverse anthologies and magazines, ranging from John Skipp’s horror anthologies to the upcoming
I Will Survive
book with Gloria Gaynor. She also works as a contributing editor for
Shock Totem Magazine
and lives in Sin City. Her short story collection,
Beautiful Sorrows
, came out in 2012.

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