Pete stood in the main hall, between the sports shop and the gaming shop, and scanned the area. Myka was stood directly behind him, doing the exact same thing. The plan, such as it was, was a bit dodgy. It required glancing at the Medusa woman, but not locking eyes. Easier said than done when the woman you are glancing for could turn you to stone, and you were back to back like Scooby and Shaggy in an empty shopping mall carrying a four thousand year old mirror each.
Naturally, Myka saw her first. Ever the observer.
“Ok, Pete, she’s in the corner. She’s looking straight at us, do not look. In a minute we spin and you direct your mirror angled to the ceiling so it reflects the sunlight coming in the glass. I then bounce the light reflected off yours and onto mine and to her eyes. All without looking at her. That clear?”
“Oh yes. Let’s get the party started.”
“Right, She’s still there, still staring, three, two, one, now!”
Pete held his mirror angled upwards towards the sun and he saw the beam bounce off. Myka knelt down and the beam moved from Pete’s mirror onto hers and bounced off, straight towards the Medusa woman’s eyes. Simple knowledge of mirrors would make bouncing the light perfectly very simple. Myka had simple knowledge of mirrors. Myka never misjudged.
Medusa Woman screamed.
“Ok, go. I have your mirror. Her hand reached up and grabbed it and Pete moved towards Medusa Woman. He could look at her because she couldn’t lock eyes. She was blind. He grabbed the Headress.
And her eyes opened.
He cursed and closed his eyes.
He’d blocked the line of sunlight.
He fumbled in his pocket for a neutralising bag. He could feel the woman’s breath on his face, and the sunlight directed at his back was burning.
The sunlight was still there…
He stepped to one side and he heard the woman scream
“Pete, now!” it was Myka. He opened his eyes and pulled out a bag, dropping the headdress in in one swift movement. There was a flash and he looked away. When he turned back, there was a woman on the floor.
He smiled, then looked at Myka. She wasn’t smiling.
“What’s wrong, Mykes?” Pete turned to the woman on the floor.
The woman he had seen before. The woman that couldn’t be alive.
Rebecca St. Clair.