The Phoenix Project Series: Books 1-3: The Phoenix Project, The Reformation, and Revelation

by Pritchard, M. R.

  Adam ushers Sam over to the vehicles. “Lina, stay inside with Stevie,” I call over my shoulder as I step out onto the porch, afraid that they are going to take Sam somewhere. I notice Elvis leave the entrance to the main barn and start walking towards the commotion. Standing on the porch, I listen to their conversation.

  “What happened, Sam?” Adam asks.

  I can see the flicker of mischief in Sam’s eyes. “What do you think happened, Colonel Waters?” He answers calmly. I’ve seen him do this act before, when we were children and he knew all too well that he was about to get in trouble.

  The Volker are all watching intently, looking over Sam, hoping they don’t have to subdue him again. He out-heights, out-muscles, and out-weighs every single one of them. For a moment I wonder why he wasn’t chosen as a Volker instead of being trained as a Sovereign.

  “I’ve got a dead man, blood on your porch, and no one wants to talk.”

  “They should talk,” Sam motions to the six other Volker. “They were here, they know what happened, and they took part in it.”

  There is a standstill, everyone looking at each other, frustrated. I look to the Guardian, shifting its weight as it sits by Sam’s feet. Remembering the bloody paw print I walk a little closer, inspecting the dog. This one’s fur is dark, but still long, most of it twisted into heavy dreadlocks. It watches the Volker standing behind Adam, and as it turns towards me, the sun catches the red hue of dried blood on its chin hair. In an instant I know what happened. The Guardian did it. It was a Guardian, Sam’s Guardian. It’s amazing, these animals do a better job at protecting us than the Volker.

  “I’ve been told there was a fight, they tried to subdue you, you fought back, and then some kind of scuffle ensued on the porch. The Volker responsible for injecting you with the sedative was found on the ground, with a nasty gash to his neck. How did it happen?”

  “I don’t know. I was sedated, remember,” Sam replies defiantly.

  “Sam, I don’t want to bring you down to Headquarters. You’re new here, you don’t want to make a poor name for yourself. Let’s get this over with. Speak.”

  Sam crosses his arms over his chest. Just then Adam must notice the dried blood on the dog, because he’s staring at it intently. He crouches down, so he is face-to-face with the Guardian.

  “Leave the dog alone,” Sam steps in front of Adam, blocking his view. “He’s not involved.”

  Adam turns to Elvis, who has made his way to Adam’s side. “I need to use your phone.” The two walk to the barn where Elvis has his office. Leaving the six Volker, two dogs, me, and Sam to stand around to ponder what’s going to happen next.

  “Sam,” I whisper through my teeth. “Why are you risking your life for a dog?”

  “They’re more than dogs, Andie. I know you can tell. There’s something different about them. They protect us. We need to return the favor.”

  A few moments pass. Enough for a quick phone call, a quick decision. We watch as Adam and Elvis walk back from the barn.

  “It has been decided,” Adam announces to everyone. “The animal must be put down. It’s not safe.”

  “No,” I argue, “it was only doing its job. They are here to protect us, it was protecting Sam. You can’t kill it for that.”

  “My hands are tied, Andie. The Entities decided, Crane has decided, it needs to be done.”

  I feel a hand clamp down on my shoulder. “I’ll take care of it,” I hear Elvis, his voice somber.

  The Guardian takes one last look at all of us, lingering on Sam for a few extra minutes, puffing its long hair from in front of its eyes. I follow Elvis as he leads the dog behind the circle of houses, out to the field, where we are out of sight from the Volker, Adam, and Sam.

  “What are you going to do to it?” I ask.

  Elvis points to the Guardian, then out past the fields and the water tower and the forests. “Go,” is all he says. The large animal turns, trotting off in the direction of which Elvis has pointed. “You better make yourself look a little sadder before you go back to them. I have to take a walk. I won’t be going back with you right now.”

  With that he takes the pistol from his hip, aiming it at the ground, and shoots a bullet into the dirt. I’m guessing to let the others think he may have actually put the dog down.

  “Thank you, Elvis.” He nods, tipping the brim of his hat at me, then walks off in the direction he was pointing. I watch them, just long enough to see a cluster of Guardians step out of the shadows of the woods, waiting for the banished Guardian to reach them.

  When I return to the courtyard the Volker are gone, and Adam. They must have taken the sound of the gunshot as enough proof that the Guardian had been put down.

  I am left with a sense of relief that Sam is safe, but still, I never got to clear things up with Adam.

  CHAPTER seventeen

  I make Blithe end Lina’s instruction early each afternoon. And while the other children are sent to finish their work or relax, I continue to teach Lina. I remind her of things outside the gates, the way the world was. I teach her how to read the maps from the library books. Where we are and where the old routes are that used to connect our town to the outside world since they are now covered in two years worth of debris. Two years worth of Crane’s attempt to hide them.

  Lina has never argued, never said one word, but soaked everything in with fierce interest. Each day, my heart breaks a little more forcing her to learn these things when I would rather she spend her childhood pretending to be a princess and playing with dolls. Sweet and innocent like she’s always been. But now, right now, this is a different time. Being branded as a Sovereign doesn’t mean we will always be safe.

  Elvis shows her how to shoot the guns, how to throw a knife, and how to use the small bow he gave her for her birthday. I take her for walks with me on the paths that I used to wander. We climb the water tower, examining the forest from up high. I show her the pond with the boat, the ruins with the hidden basement. We explored under the old, wooden floor of the abandoned house. It must have been a root cellar, or perhaps something more. There were five rooms, dug out larger than the dilapidated house above ground. The perfect place for a child to hide in an emergency.

  We get stronger, working the muscles that have been lost in the classroom and from sitting at desks. I ignore the feelings coming from my body, the aches, the soreness, the nausea that creeps up on me each morning. The regret of not telling Adam of the pregnancy before Crane did.

  Sometimes Sam comes with us. He’s already strong and he knows how to use the weapons, developing a disturbing expertise with them. I want him to be on the same page. He realized that we weren’t really safe on the day of the tattooing, when the Volker stormed the pasture. Our hidden pasture, our place of safety, refuge. It’s visible in Sam’s eyes, the shame that he couldn’t protect the children-not that he didn’t try. That was evident with his bruises, the pin hole in his neck from the sedative they gave him, and the dead Volker.

  The realization is there, that I might not always be around to protect Lina. And I will never let her live in this District, this world, believing that she is safe. Because that’s what I did, until Crane and Baillie beat the naiveté out of me. Twice. I used to fear them, the thought of them, looking in their faces again. Now, the only thing I fear is that Lina will hate me for all I’ve put her through, for all I haven’t been able to protect her from. This changed life, the loss of her father.

  I may think that I don’t fear Crane any longer, but there’s the dreams. I still fear the dreams. That’s why I continue to stay awake at night, staring at the computer and the program I created. I inserted a virus into the code. A layer of protection, you might say. It stopped assigning genetic pairs two years out. Without the encrypted password, the program will not continue. Three wrong tries and it wipes the program. Now Crane still needs me. I’m sure he saw what I was doing, but couldn’t stop it. Remotely watching my computer can only go so far. Morris informed me that he can onl
y watch. He can’t take the files or alter them. Another layer of protection from the Entities, I suppose. Without the program Crane will have to figure out the pairing on his own, and he’s already told me that’s a gift which escapes him and everyone else he’s tried to train to do my job.

  --

  I get the sense that someone is in the house before I hear the click of the front door. None of the Guardians are alarmed. They continue to sleep on the floor, scattered throughout the house, which can only mean they don’t sense danger.

  I leave Lina's room, closing the door behind me. There are footsteps in the living room. Pacing, mumbling. As soon as I turn the corner I recognize Adam’s dark figure.

  “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” I ask him.

  “Why didn't you tell me, Andie?” His voice is low, strained.

  “I didn't tell anyone.”

  “Crane knew before I did, how does that work?”

  “The only one who knew was the doctor. Crane must have been perusing my medical file.”

  “Why didn't you tell me?” He takes two steps, and suddenly he is standing so close, towering over me. “Why?” He repeats. I can tell he's hurt, angry.

  “You told me yourself, you wouldn’t bring a child into this. What was I supposed to do, saddle you with a child you never wanted? It was a mistake.” I look away from his pained face, holding my breath, preparing myself to deliver the final blow. “What we did was a mistake. It should have never happened.” I can tell instantly he doesn’t believe my words, and I’m not sure I do either.

  “You’re wrong. This is not a mistake. This is so different.” He brushes his hand across my cheek, and bends down, kissing me for the first time in weeks. The feel of his lips are so familiar, comforting, making my body tingle with anticipation. But he tastes different. I don't know how I didn't smell it on him before. Maybe I was just relieved to see him after all this time. Maybe I thought that he would come back to me, maybe he would forgive me. But he's drunk. All I can think is it took that much for him to see me again, he couldn’t even face me sober.

  “You've been drinking. Where did you even find any alcohol?” It’s been outlawed since the District guidelines were enacted. I push at his chest. “Adam, stop it!” But he's kissing me harder, pulling at my shirt, running his hands up my bare back and across the thick scars from the wolf attack, pulling me to him. This is not how I want it to be. Him showing up drunk, trying to drag me off to bed. “Get off me, Adam.” I shove him as hard as I can. But he’s too tall, too strong. He barely staggers, but still it gets him to stop. “Come back when you've sobered up! Then we’ll talk about this.”

  His light blue eyes stare into mine, collecting his thoughts, but saying no more. He leaves, closing the door silently behind him. He doesn't come back. I'm sure he returns to his townhouse by the lake, leaving me with only the taste of his lips on mine, this swelling in my abdomen, and the small owl charm around my neck. I’m guessing it’s all I’ll have left of him now that I’ve ruined whatever we had. It seems that I have a knack for that-just look at what I did to Ian.

  --

  “You will make the speech today.” It’s a message, Crane’s voice. “Volker will escort you this morning. The children will attend.”

  I slam the phone down onto the receiver. I knew it was coming. I’ve been memorizing the speech for weeks, at night when we aren’t out in the fields training. I don’t want the children to be there. I don’t even want to be there. This is where the nervousness starts, the sweaty palms, the rapid heart rate.

  There is a knock on the door and I hear Lina’s footsteps as she runs to open it.

  “Good morning, Catalina,” I hear Sam’s voice and Lina’s giggles. He must be twirling her again. I leave the office to greet him.

  “Good morning, Sam.” I do my best to smile.

  “This speech we are going to, I don’t have anything to wear.” He holds his arms out. Sam showed up here with only the clothes on his back. Since then we’ve been having a hard time finding clothes for him. He’s too tall, too broad shouldered. Elvis has given him some old shirts and pants, but the shirts are always too tight, and the pants too short. He’s survived on the two outfits given to him after his testing, never complaining.

  “Hang on, let me call someone.”

  I pick up the receiver and the operator answers. “Morris, District Sovereign.” I hear the phone ring and Morris answers.

  “Hello, Morris, this is Andie.”

  “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “Yes, we have a problem. Sam has nothing to wear to this speech.” I glance down to my clothes and Lina’s dress, which is just a little big on her. “Actually, all of our clothes are a little ragged.” I wonder if this is what the Entities wanted, showing the Residents that the Sovereign live a simple life, in order to provide for them.

  “Do not worry. It’s been taken care of. I will see you shortly.” We say goodbye and hang up.

  I shrug at Sam. “He says not to worry about it, Sam.”

  A caravan of Volker vehicles arrives, their tires crunching across the gravel driveway. I stare through the front windows, trying to see if Adam is driving one of them, but he’s not. I twist my fingers in my shirt and watch out the window. Stopping only to look over at Lina and put my arm around her. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Sam watching me. He’s carrying Astrid, who like Lina, has developed some deep attachment to him. I watch as she lays her head on his shoulder and sucks on her thumb. Since she’s gotten here she seems to be regressing, acting younger than her four years of age. I get the sense that she might actually be younger than Morris said, and was taken from her home much too early to begin training.

  “You know, Sis, it wouldn't hurt so badly if you didn't care so much for him. You’re both too stubborn and secretive, you need to talk more.” He’s talking about Adam, I know it. I must look pretty pathetic gazing out the window, hoping he might be back to clear things up. And now here's my little brother, giving me relationship advice.

  “Mind your business, Sam,” I tell him as I turn back to gazing out the window.

  Lina, Astrid, Sam, and I ride in one vehicle. Blithe, Elvis and the other children split themselves between the others. I tried to make myself look presentable, professional. Since I’m the one making the speech and Crane always wears his suits. I even put makeup on, doing my best with what little I had left.

  We are brought to the campus auditorium. It’s large, usually reserved for graduation ceremonies from the State College. But Crane has taken over the campus, made it his own Headquarters from which to run the town.

  We follow the Volker to a waiting room. There are couches, mirrors, and a changing area. Right off the bat I see garment bags hanging on a row of coat racks, one with my name on it. Morris enters the room, looking nice in a suit, greeting us all with his large smile, shaking everyone’s hand, even the children.

  “We have something for you to wear.” He guides me to the garment bag. “I think it will be perfect.”

  He unzips the bag and pulls out a dress. It’s dark blue, gauzy and light, with a woven leather belt around the midsection. I look down at the slacks and blouse I put on. They’re loose and hide my growing abdomen well. I turn back towards the dress, there’s one problem with it, I no longer have much of a waist, and it will be perfectly evident that I am with child.

  “I can’t wear this, Morris.”

  “Yes you can. It was made just for you. Someone will be quite disappointed to see you in something different.” He merely glances at the outfit I have on. “There is a change of clothes for everyone, all of the Sovereign, even the children.”

  I haven’t worn a dress in so long. The last time I can remember was my wedding day, when I married Ian. I take the dress into the changing room. Stripping my old clothes off and pulling the dress over my head. The dress is soft and light, allowing the air to cool the nervous sweat that’s coating the back of my neck. I fasten the belt around my midsection
, pushing it as far down as I can, trying to hide the bulge. When I leave the dressing room there’s a pair of black, flat dress shoes waiting by the mirror. I slip my feet into them, then, finally look up to the mirror.

  I hear Lina run up behind me. “Oh, Mommy, you look so beautiful.”

  Through the mirror, I watch Blithe follow her. “I can help you with your hair,” she tells me. I glance to my face, the long wavy hair hanging down past my shoulders.

  “Ok.”

  “Lina, can you bring me some hair pins from the counter over there?” Blithe points to another mirrored area which holds an array of hair products and makeup. As Lina runs to collect the hair pins, Blithe takes her place behind me. Since she is much taller than I am there is no need for me to sit. Then, she works magic. I don’t know what else to call it. She separates strands of hair, twisting, braiding, pinning. Lina hands her pin after pin. She works with a concentration much like I’ve seen with the children, when she’s trying to get them to contemplate certain topics in her humanities teachings. When she’s done she steps back, inspecting her work from each side, then the front, moving a few pieces of hair around. When I turn back to the mirror I am surprised to see all my hair is beautifully woven into a braided and twisted mound just above the nape of my neck. There is not a stray strand. It looks amazing.

  “How did you learn to do that?” I ask her as I lean into the mirror, admiring her work.

  “My mother was a hairdresser,” she tells me, smiling. She turns, walking over to the mirrored shelf where Lina got the hair pins. I see her select a few things then she returns, standing in front of me. “She did makeup too. We can’t let you go out there like this.”

  And with that she opens the tubes of eyeliner, mascara, lip stains and blush. When she is done, she steps away so I can see myself in the mirror. The surprise is evident in my eyes. She has transformed me into something beautiful. I look nothing like myself, nothing like the sleepwalking matchmaker I’ve been for so long. I can’t even see the blue hue that usually stains the skin under my tired eyes. My skin is even toned, the green bursting from my eyes, my lips the perfect shade of pink.