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

by Pritchard, M. R.

  “Alexander and I put some things into place. It’s better now,” Adam tells me, searching my face. “Do you know what day it is?”

  “Last I remember it was Tuesday, so Wednesday?” I ask as I make my ways towards my bag to find some clothes.

  I catch him shaking his head. “Thursday,” he says.

  “What happened?”

  “You ate food with the Residents’ medication.”

  “Oh God,” I put both my hands on my stomach, feeling the smooth motion of the baby moving inside me. I sigh in relief. I escaped the side effects of the medication, at least for now. “How much of it did I eat?”

  “I’m guessing about half a manatee steak.”

  I press my fingers to my lips, repulsed. “I ate manatee? They are an endangered species.”

  “Not in Crystal River,” he tells me.

  “I don’t remember any of it. I don’t remember eating, nothing. I shouldn’t have lost so much time. Two days. Did you talk to Morris? What’s happening at home?” I grab onto his arm to steady myself. “Is Lina okay?”

  “Well, Dr. Akiyama thinks you got too large of a dose for your size. And Morris says Lina and Sam are fine, he’s keeping an eye on them.”

  “What did I do for two days? I don’t remember anything.”

  Adam crouches in front of me. I suspect he’s using his method of determining if I’m lying. “You don’t remember anything?” he asks.

  I shake my head no.

  “You mostly slept and ate.”

  “You took care of me?” I ask, reaching out to touch his dark hair.

  “Yeah.” He smiles.

  “What else did I do?”

  “Nothing.” He brushes my hair off my forehead, and moves closer to me, much too close for me to think clearly. “Could you just promise me one thing, for the rest of this trip?”

  “Sure,” I reply, tipping my head as he trails his fingers down my cheek and neck.

  “Don’t eat anything that doesn’t come off this train.”

  --

  The train ride to Arizona is much different from the ride to Florida. For one thing, it’s taking much longer. The other thing is, the tracks are barely hidden. There’s a complete lack of forest cover over the second leg of the trip. Instead, there’s a sprawling, flat landscape, thick with shrubbery and littered with rocky formations.

  The humid atmosphere of Florida has been replaced with an arid heat, the humidity burned from the air. Water formations are few and far between. A few times we’ve seen shallow lakes with clusters of tents and rough shacks surrounding them.

  “Survivors,” each of us mutters under our breath as we crane are necks to watch in passing.

  From so far away we couldn’t tell if anyone noticed the train. Being fast and silent, we hoped that we passed by unnoticed. Not because we didn’t want to find Survivors, we just aren’t stocked to defend ourselves against them. The remainder of the ride possesses an eerie silence. This is the first time we’ve seen evidence of people living outside the Districts. One of the Volker has already mentioned the dense population of Phoenix, Arizona and how he had hoped it was blasted to smithereens so we don’t have to defend ourselves. Alexander tells us that the tracks follow a wide path away from the city, but Tonopah is a mere 50 miles from it. As we get closer the Guardians raise themselves off the floor, wandering the train car, pressing their noses to the windows. They sense something.

  At night we can see a few fires burning off in the distance. Nothing is close enough to the tracks to make us concerned. Still, that doesn’t help any of us sleep at night. Not that we could with the pacing footsteps of the Guardians all night long.

  By morning our greatest fear is realized. We pass a group of men on horseback, riding parallel to the tracks. The horses can’t keep up with a train travelling at 150 miles per hour, but that doesn’t stop the men from trying. We watch as the horses kick up a cloud of dust behind us, running as fast as they can.

  I turn to Adam. “I hope this District is secure. I get the sense the Survivors might know about it.”

  “Tonopah has greater defenses than we do in Phoenix,” Alexander speaks up. “We should be fine.”

  Adam slows the train to a crawl as we see an upcoming chain-link fence. It opens just as we reach the entrance. Instantly our hands fly to cover our ears in response to the high pitch humming sound. This fence is different than the ones we’ve seen before. Instead of reaching out around the District, it follows the tracks in a narrow corridor of protection. One can see this precaution has been taken for good reason. Tents have been pitched in the nearby sand, tattered cloth and singed body parts hang off the fencing. As our train passes, clusters of people start to form a line at the fence, most keeping a safe distance. An unlucky few wander too close, and trickles of blood start to drain from their noses and ears. They back up, brushing the blood off their faces, resuming a safer distance from the fence.

  This tells me one thing, the Survivors definitely know about this District, and it looks like they want in.

  “Must be stronger than ours,” one of the Volker points out, his face twisted in pain from the high pitch ringing.

  “Much stronger.” I turn my attention to Alexander as he speaks. “This District is about five times the size of ours, in population and acreage. For that reason, the greatest energy producing nuclear reactors were chosen. I suggest you take every precaution to maintain a safe distance from the fence.”

  I resume looking out the window at the Survivors watching with hope at what could be inside. I take in the tattered clothes, the dirty faces, the bones that jut from the skin of the Survivors standing at the fence. I wonder if this is how we could be living if we hadn’t been chosen for the District. We could resemble these Survivors, if we even lived this long.

  A few miles later the corridor of fencing splits to the sides for what I assume is hundreds of miles, enclosing the Tonopah District. Finally, the loud humming dissipates and we all let our hands drop from our ears. I watch as the Survivors give up on the possibility that we might stop, returning to their tents, escaping the desert heat.

  A large cement wall comes into view, much like ours, and a narrow passage allows the train to pass before another gate rolls over the tracks, enclosing the District further. The change in scenery is drastic. Rows of crops replace the sandy desert, complete with a sophisticated irrigation system. There are perfectly spaced rows of fruiting trees, rows of corn, and far off in the distance rows of small adobe houses.

  As we near the train platform the number of Volker present outnumber us by at least double. They crowd around the door of the engine car as Adam brings the train to a stop. I notice they carry large rifles, in addition to the pistols carried by our Volker. Not only does this District seem well secured, they are well armed.

  “Do you think it’s safe?” I ask Adam.

  “Yes, they’re expecting us.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Alexander tells us with confidence. When I turn around to look at him, he nods at me. It doesn’t help me feel any better.

  Once on the platform, a Volker with tanned skin and slicked black hair, secured in a ponytail, salutes Adam. “Colonel Waters, I’m Colonel Yuma. I’ll be your escort to Headquarters. Welcome to the Tonopah District.”

  He tells us to leave the Guardians in the train. We follow him to waiting vehicles.

  There is one main road in Tonopah. One long, dry pebbled road. On each side there are neatly placed mobile homes and what look like newly built houses. Groupings of people wait on the side of the road, all dressed in the same white uniforms and straw hats.

  “Residents headed for the fields,” Yuma tells us. “Going to be a hot one today, lucky for them, they only work half shifts.”

  Yuma and Adam talk Volker. How many staff they have, the assigned patrols. It’s when Adam asks if they’ve had any crime since the District was secured that Yuma pauses.

  “Not within our walls, there’s plenty outside though. Sakima keeps a tigh
t rein on Residents and Sovereign.”

  “Who’s Sakima?” I ask. I stare at the image burned into his wrist. I can see portions of it each time he adjusts his hands on the steering wheel, it looks like three large raindrops arranged in a triangle.

  Yuma leans back to look at me. “I’d say he’s Tonopah’s version of Crane.”

  “How do you know Crane?” I ask.

  “Everyone knows Crane, ma’am.”

  I find it annoying that everyone knows Crane. Everyone seems to know something that I don’t, whether it is about Crane or about the Districts. Right now I’m wishing I had been more prepared for this trip. Actually, I’m wishing I had never been forced to take part in this trip. I was content living in my little bubble, raising my child where I was safe, where I didn’t have to meet new people and see Survivors from the terror inflicted by the Funding Entities.

  He brings us to a building that resembles an old post office. Once inside the space has been cleared, all that remains is a large circular table. A tall man walks towards us, looking much like Yuma. His skin tanned, starting to wrinkle in the corners of his eyes, and his long black hair arranged in a braid down his back, graying at his temples. I come to the conclusion that their genetic makeup here must be mostly Native American, just like I saw in the samples. Despite the hot weather he wears a black suit and a thin necklace of turquoise.

  This is Tonopah’s Crane.

  He walks straight towards me. And while I’d like to step back and hide behind Adam, I stand my ground.

  “You must be Andromeda,” he reaches for my hand, turning it over in his palm. “I am Sakima. Welcome to Tonopah. Please, make yourself at home.” He glances down quickly at our hands, and I can see that he has the Phoenix District on my wrist face up so he can see it.

  I watch as he greets Adam and Alexander, using the same manipulation to view their District brand. I take note that he wears the same image on his wrist as Yuma, who is standing at my side. I lean towards him, whispering. “Why three raindrops?” I ask, pointing at his wrist.

  “Tonopah sits on the largest subterranean aquifer for thousands of miles,” Yuma answers.

  Now it makes sense. Why choose the desert to be the largest District? When it contains the most powerful nuclear reactors and the largest water resource, it’s the perfect location. The only downside is it’s close to one of the largest cities in the U.S. Well, it was one of the largest cities.

  Sakima brings us to the large table and just like in Crystal River he hands us copies of the Tonopah District Manifesto. He delves into a long speech about how the District was formed, how fast they got the fence up, the population under control, the crops started. I start to wonder why we are here. From all points it looks like this District is under control, the complete opposite of Crystal River.

  Sakima excuses himself for a moment, picking up a phone at the far end of the table.

  “Why are we here?” I ask Adam who is sitting at my side. “If this place is so perfectly organized, what are we doing here?”

  “Not everything that sounds perfect and looks perfect is without flaws. I’m sure we’ll find out soon.”

  I see Alexander watching me from the opposite side of Adam. He nods his head in agreement.

  “Well, you’ve all traveled so far, let us provide a short meal to you before we continue.”

  Sakima waves at the door and workers enter carrying trays of food. There is fruit salad, freshly baked corn bread with the steam still rising off it, rice with beans, and a variety of other local themed dishes. It all smells absolutely wonderful and my mouth waters at the trays which have been placed in front of us. I remember what Adam said, about not eating anything that wasn’t from our train. I watch as our Volker and Alexander fill their plates with food. I give Adam an uneasy glance as my stomach grumbles at the decadent aromas filling the room.

  Sakima encourages everyone in the room to take a plate, but I can’t help but remember how I lost two days of my life from eating unfamiliar food. I reach for a tall glass of water that has slices of lemon and lime in it. I watch Adam reach for a plate.

  “Will we meet your other Sovereign?” I ask Sakima, trying to take my focus off the food.

  “We shall see, they are busy today. Everyone in Tonopah has a job to do, or else it would not run so smoothly.” He smiles at me.

  I decide not to wait for him to tell us why we are there. “Excuse me for pushing things a bit, but why exactly are we here? It seems as though you have everything under control.” I sip at the cold glass of water in my hand.

  “Well, we have no children here. No Sovereign Children’s Training Program. No future Sovereign to prepare. Crane thought you could help us with that. I see the Phoenix District has overcome this hurdle, since you are with child yourself.”

  I find it odd that this place has been running since shortly after Phoenix was taken over. And while our population is slowly rebuilding, they have nothing here. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the smells in the room, trying to clear my mind. The sounds of Alexander and the Volker eating are distracting. So is watching Adam push food around on his plate.

  “So you need me to set up your genetic pairing program?” I ask.

  “No, Crane has sent us your work, your pairings, as you call them.” He glances at my stomach. “Please, eat something. You’ve traveled so far and we still have so much to do.”

  This is not making sense to me. Crane sent us to unite the Districts. He said there were uprisings and that I had to repeat my speech. But Sakima has spoken nothing of uprisings. Of course Crystal River was not what we expected either. I’m guessing Crane will have some enjoyment hearing of us trying to decipher our purpose here. It’s the thought of uprisings which makes me think of the medication.

  “When did you begin your titrations?” I ask Sakima.

  He chokes out a small laugh. “There have not been titrations here.”

  “Why not?”

  “Things would not run so smoothly without the medication. Everyone gets the medication, a full dose.”

  “And your Sovereign, the Volker?”

  “They get a very small dose, just enough so they know who is in control.”

  “And who is in control here?”

  “I am, of course.” Sakima smiles at me again, adjusting his tie, clearing his throat. Now I know why Yuma leaned back to look at me when he told me Sakima was Tonopah’s version of Crane. He was trying to relay that Sakima possesses the same sociopathic tendencies as Crane.

  “Then you will never have children to train,” I tell him. “I’m sure Crane has told you that the medication and pregnancy do not mix.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then how have you populated this District?”

  “Well, Andromeda, that is actually very easy. Did you see all those desperate people outside our walls? They are more than willing to have food in their stomachs and a bed to sleep in. They don’t much care if it involves eating food laced with mind numbing medication. Of all the survivors we’ve brought in I’ve never had a single complaint.”

  I look to Adam to make sure he’s getting this. He takes a bite of the cornbread and I notice his plate is half empty. He’s been eating the whole time we’ve been talking. Instantly I realize why Sakima wants us to eat. What better way to get us strangers to cooperate? The food has to be laced with the Resident’s medication.

  I pull the plate from Adam’s hand. “Spit it out, Adam.”

  Adam opens his mouth, pushing out the cornbread and chewed bits of food. It’s too late for Alexander and our Volker. They’re scraping their plates before I have time to say anything to them.

  I would expect that the news of Sakima trying to feed us the medicated food would send Adam into one of his irate moods. I would expect to see his jaw tightly clenched. I would expect to see him confront Sakima and escort me out of here. But none of that happens. Which can only mean one thing: Adam ingested enough of the medication for it to affect him.

 
Sakima truly is another version of Crane. And I’m beginning to realize that maybe this trip wasn’t to place a target on my back, but a target on the child growing inside me.

  Before, I could count on Adam protecting me, or Alexander placidly talking us out of this situation, or our Volker using force, none of that will happen today. Now it is just the self-appointed grand ruler of Tonopah and me.

  “Give me your gun, Adam.” I hold my hand out as Adam removes his Volker issued pistol from the holster at his hip, placing it in my open palm.

  “Now, now, Andromeda, that’s not necessary. You are my guests. No harm will come to you here.” His voice rises and falls as he tries to convince me of our safety.

  “I find that hard to believe,” I reply, trying to hide the disdain in my voice as I glare into his liquid black eyes.

  “Crane did warn me that you were quite the spitfire. I’m not sure why he runs the Phoenix District with such lackadaisical regulations when it comes to the Sovereign. It will not be tolerated here.” He raises his hand to Adam. “Colonel Waters, take the pistol from Andromeda.”

  Adam moves faster than I had anticipated. Before I have a chance to take two steps away from him he has the pistol back in his holster and my arm twisted behind my back. In all the training sessions we’ve had, where he’s taught me to fight, I’ve never seen him move so quickly. And with those few swift movements I recognize what I’ve always suspected to be true. He’s always held himself back from me, from letting me know what he’s truly capable of.

  I try to pull away from him, my struggles only making him tighten his grasp around my wrist, pulling my arm up. The pain in my shoulder tells me he’s threatening to pop my shoulder out of the socket.

  “Perhaps, you should settle down,” Sakima tells me, the smile still playing on his thin lips. “We don’t want you to harm yourself, or your child.”

  I resign at the fact that he has control over the current situation. To get myself out of here I need to solve his problem. “What do you need done here?” I ask.

  “First, I need you to watch.” He motions to Adam who is standing behind my back. “Come, Colonel Waters, bring Andromeda with us.”