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

by Pritchard, M. R.

  “They’re close,” Sam says. “Get ready.”

  This time, I do flick the safety off. I place my body in the stance I once saved for the firing range. The position seems odd now, stretching muscles I haven’t used since Raven was born. I should have been practicing all this time, I think to myself.

  There is the sound of deep male voices getting closer. The boy stops climbing, staying where he is like a cat on its perch, ready to pounce.

  “You ready?” Sam asks.

  I swallow, my throat feeling suddenly dry. “Yeah,” I lie to him.

  We aim, all of us, as the men step into the clearing on the other side of the fence. I’m not sure what I was expecting them to look like, but I feel myself gasp in surprise at the five men, at their long greasy hair, the mud caked to their clothing and exposed skin. They each held some type of weapon, be it another machete, an ax, or a strange sword-like apparatus.

  “Go back to where you came from,” Ramirez shouts to the men.

  They don’t speak. Their eyes, black and hollow and fiery, are fixed on us. And even though there is only eight of them and fifteen of us, their threatening glares are enough to make me feel outnumbered.

  One of the five men step forward and, looking up to the boy perched on the fence, he grasps the chain-link. His dark hair hits his shoulders and he has a scar from his left eye to the corner of his mouth. “Sa tchob byen,” he says with a sneer and a flick of his chin, just like the boy. I control the shudder from their threats.

  “Go back,” Sam shouts to them in a deep, commanding voice I’ve never heard from him before. “We will shoot you.”

  The man shakes the fence, and looking up, he begins to climb.

  Ramirez fires a shot. It hits the machete hanging off of the man’s waist and pings off into the forest. “Go back,” Ramirez commands. “That was a warning. The next one will be in your skull.”

  Far off in the distance, I can hear the heavy hum of electricity making its way across the fence.

  “That electricity is on its way,” Ramirez warns the boy and the man on the fence. “You’re not going to like yourself once it hits. It’ll fry you up like it did to Rico.”

  The man jumps down and the boy gives one last smile before releasing himself, jumping backwards off the fence with an inhuman ease. And then it happens fast; the hum, the shiver, the spark, the arch of current. We step back, feeling the thickness in the air and the taste of blood in the backs of our throats.

  The group backs away, slithering into the forest, their eyes on us the entire time. The man with the scar mouths something, but with the hum from the fence, we can’t hear what he says.

  “Holy fuck!” Sam exclaims once they are out of our sight, dropping his arms in relief. “Those were some creeps.”

  “We’ve gotten a few here before the changes,” Ramirez tells us. “That’s how they breed them in the depths of Louisiana. Creepy bastards.”

  I click the safety on the handgun and pass it back to Sam. “I guess we should go tell them that the power’s back on,” he tells me.

  “Yeah,” I say with a shaky breath. “I think so.”

  “Go,” Ramirez tells us. “We’ll stand guard until they’re gone.”

  We walk back to the Committee room, weaving between the crowd of new Residents in the parking lot, who stand oblivious to everything that just happened. Emanuel is still on the computer conversing with Crane and Ian. He looks up at me as I walk in the door.

  “She’s back,” Emanuel tells them.

  As I walk towards the computer I see Crane standing behind Ian. “The electricity’s back on,” I tell them.

  Ian stands and walks away from the screen without a word. I catch a glimpse of the look on his face, he’s not happy.

  “Good, Andromeda,” Crane tells me. “I’m guessing you’re ready to come home then?”

  “Yes,” I tell him.

  Emanuel closes the top of the computer. “Congratulations,” he tells me.

  “For what?” I ask.

  “For completing your task.”

  I control the urge to shrug at him, as though it’s just another day, just another task, just another excuse to control me.

  “Can we go now?” I ask.

  “One last thing,” he tells me.

  I watch as Emanuel walks towards a desk in the corner. He pulls out a metal instrument. I’ve seen this before, I recognize its gleam. I also recognize the stick of numbing agent in Emanuel’s other hand. He’s so kind.

  “Figures,” I mutter.

  He nods.

  Pulling the shoulder of my shirt down, I expose the bare skin which already holds the long healed marks of the other Districts. It’s been a few years since I earned one of these. Of course, I got my others in sequential order. This was my last task. It just took me two years to get down here and complete it. I smell the familiar scent of burning skin, similar to when Rico committed suicide by grabbing the fence, just not as strong.

  “Andie?” I hear the door open. Sam steps into the room. “What the hell!” With a few quick strides he’s at my side, his arms out, ready to shove Emanuel.

  “Stop,” I warn him, my hands pressing against his chest.

  “What the hell is going on here?” he asks.

  “I’m just finishing the job,” I tell him.

  Soon the room fills with the slight smell of burnt skin and the skin of my back itches and tightens. Emanuel removes the instrument, leaving the Crystal River District brand discoloring my skin right next to the others.

  “You’re free to go,” Emanuel tells me.

  “Goodbye, Emanuel.” I pick up the box of Resident samples and head for the door, pulling Sam’s sleeve. He staggers, glaring at Emanuel. “Let’s go, Sam.”

  As I push open the door to Headquarters and walk outside, the humid air seems to gulp at my body. Being outside of the cool Headquarters, I’m sweating instantly.

  Sam stops me. “You have all those marks, those brands. Worse than the children. More than me.” He holds out his right wrist, revealing the Phoenix district emblem. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t need to, Sam,” I say.

  “It would make things easier. I almost killed Emanuel in there.”

  “Sam, I make things easier by not telling you this, by not telling Ian this, by not telling the children this. I protect you all by not telling you what Crane makes me do and what he does to me. This is how I keep you all safe. This is how I keep you all alive. I keep the focus on me.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Maybe I am. But this is how it’s going to happen.”

  “You’re keeping more from me,” Sam pushes. “I deserve to know. I am the Volker Sovereign.”

  “Don’t push it, Sam.” I shake my head at him. “I told someone everything once. And you know what it got him? Death. He died. I’ll be buried long before I let those secrets kill you too.”

  --

  The trip home is made in silence, with Sam on edge from what he has just learned. His mood seems to lighten by the time we make it to the Phoenix District gates. As we step out of the train onto the platform, one of the Volker informs Sam of our instructions to meet Crane at Headquarters.

  Sam drives us to the Chemistry building first so I can put the Crystal River Resident samples in the freezer, then we drive to Headquarters to debrief.

  The building is dark and even though I can smell early summer in the air, it feels awkwardly cold here compared to the heat we just experienced. Sam walks me to Crane’s office. As the elevator doors open to the floor he uses as an office, we immediately see Crane standing in the middle of the room with Alexander.

  “Congratulations,” Crane says as he walks towards me. He slaps me on the back, as though I was his pal, an old friend come to visit. I might have smiled, maybe slapped him back like comrades do in the movies. But truthfully, I just wanted to punch him in the face. He slapped my right shoulder, the one with the fresh Crystal River brand, and the numbing agent wor
e off hours ago. I don’t flinch. I wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  “That was fast. Faster than your other tasks. I must admit, Andromeda, I was afraid, after everything, that maybe you wouldn’t be able to perform as well.” He smiles, beaming.

  Looks like I made him proud. “Can I go home now?” I ask.

  “Not yet, we still have one last matter.”

  “What?”

  Crane glances to Alexander, who clears his throat before telling me, “Morris has passed.”

  “What?” I hold my breath.

  “Morris, you know how sick he was, he’s passed on.” Crane waits for me to digest his news. “He’s dead,” he finally says the words.

  His eyes tell me everything. I am now a Funding Entity. I’ve just taken the place of Morris.

  Worst. Promotion. Ever.

  “I want to see him,” I tell Crane.

  “Yes, well, I guess you could go down to the morgue, but do you really want to see a dead man?”

  “More than anything.” I have to make sure he’s dead. That this isn’t another one of Crane’s tricks he pulled while I was gone.

  “Just, before you leave,” he turns, pulling something out of his drawer. “Colonel Salk, I need you to step out.”

  I nod to Sam, letting him know that everything is fine. Sam waits for the elevator, and as the doors close, I turn to face Crane. “What do you want?” I ask, looking to Alexander, whose face remains placid as he says nothing.

  “I need your arm, Andromeda.”

  I hesitate. “Why?”

  “Think of this as your induction as an Entity.” I look to his hand and see that he holds a syringe with a large-bore needle.

  “What’s that?”

  “Your transmitter.”

  “Is that like the one you gave the Runner?”

  We used to have a Runner, who would go out and get supplies, when there were supplies to get, before the Reformation. Crane injected him with a transmitter, one which contained a lethal dose of potassium.

  “No, we wouldn’t be so careless as to allow such a simple way to kill one of the Entities. This is just a tracking device. So we never lose you.”

  I roll up my sleeve. He presses the needle into my forearm. I don’t flinch, I don’t fight it, and for the first time I simply accept it. I feel the sharp pinch as the foreign object is inserted under my skin. Crane sets the syringe down and places a bandage over the injection site. I pull away from him and replace my sleeve.

  “Are we done here?” I ask.

  “Yes, and welcome, you are one of us now.”

  I control the shudder that’s trying to run through my body. The last thing I’ll ever want to be is someone like Crane. I turn to leave, but just as I reach for the elevator button Crane stops me. “Oh, Andromeda.” I turn. “Don’t cut this one out. I’d hate to see another scar on your body.” Somehow, he figured out that I cut out Adam’s transmitter. Probably after Adam broke it to pieces with a hammer.

  “Why?” I ask Crane at his suggestion. “I find it hard to believe you care much about me.” Especially since my body is currently riddled with scars, I think to myself. All of them received since I became a part of this Phoenix Project.

  “Just don’t,” he warns. “And I, we,” he swipes his hand to include Alexander, “care a great deal for you. You’re important.”

  It seems these people think I am worth more than I do. And I don’t understand it. I don’t see it. Just because I helped Crane play with the human genome, it doesn’t make me anything special. I’m sure they could have figured it out on their own in time. If they had that kind of time.

  I leave, collecting Sam at the front doors of Headquarters. We head for the hospital so I can verify that Morris is truly dead.

  --

  “This couldn’t wait until morning?” Dr. Akiyama complains as he escorts us to the morgue. Even though we’ve only been gone a few days, I notice his hair is whiter now, much too white for a man his age. Must be the toll this place has taken on him.

  “Sorry, Doc, but no,” I tell him. “This can’t wait.”

  He unlocks the metal doors with a set of keys. As we enter the room, he flicks on the lights. Instantly, I see my breath in front of me. The sterile room is freezing.

  And then I feel a large, warm body behind me. “Are you afraid of ghosts?” Sam whispers directly into my ear, his breath tickling the tiny hairs of my ear canal. It causes a hard shiver to run through me. He’s laughing, barely able to contain it; he thinks he’s funny.

  I elbow him in the gut. “Can you act like you are the Volker Sovereign for five minutes, Sam?”

  Sam coughs hard. “You need to loosen up,” Sam chokes out, holding his stomach.

  Dr. Akiyama flips through a chart as he walks towards a gurney, waving for us to follow him. He unzips a black body bag and pulls the dark plastic back so we can see what’s inside.

  It’s Morris. His face limp, pale, eyes closed. I will never see him smile ever again.

  “What will you do with him?” I ask.

  “Not sure, no orders.”

  “Send him to the Pasture. He can be buried next to Adam.” Dr. Akiyama jerks his head towards me as though I’ve said something wrong.

  “You buried Adam?” he asks.

  “Well, no, we just have a gravestone. I don’t see why we can’t bury Morris out there.”

  “Oh,” he settles a bit.

  “I’ll have Elvis set it up,” I tell the doctor. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” he tells me as he zips the body bag closed.

  I take Sam’s arm as we walk out of the morgue, into the night, and back to his vehicle.

  chapter twelve

  There are flowers on the table, a small cup with a handful of crocus, their stems immersed in water. A note beside the cup reads Welcome back, in Lina’s handwriting and then Astrid’s, repeated with Ian’s and then a scribble, which must be Raven’s. I smile at their thoughtfulness.

  Sam is right, I should be nicer. I should at least try. Walking through the dark house, I make my way to Lina’s bedroom. Stevie licks my hand as I walk by the bed, welcoming me home. Lina and Astrid are both sound asleep. I pull their blankets over them, then walk to my room to check on Raven. He opens his eyes, as though he senses my presence, as I walk to the side of the crib. I pick him up and squeeze him close to me.

  “I missed you, baby Raven,” I tell him. He reaches out, pressing his chubby fingers to my cheek. Silent as always. I lay him down and pull the blanket over him. He closes his eyes and goes back to sleep as though I had never left and he never feared I wouldn’t come back for him.

  Stepping into the hallway, I notice Ian’s door is open. I walk towards it. His room is empty. Panic floods me. I know that he wanders at night but I was hoping that would end with me gone and him in charge of the children. I make my way through the small house, searching the bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen. I find him in the living room sleeping on the couch, one of the Guardians stretched out on the floor below him. I must have walked right past him when I got home and never noticed.

  I watch for a moment as he sleeps so peacefully. His face is relaxed, his blonde hair askew. Walking toward him, I pull the spare blanket off the back of the couch and lay it across him, and just as I set the edge of the blanket across his shoulders his hand grabs my wrist in one quick motion. I look up to see him awake and looking at me. I take a step back, flustered at his quick reaction.

  “You’re back,” he says, his voice merely a whisper as he loosens his grasp on my wrist.

  “Yes,” I tell him.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He lets go of me and moves to sit, rubbing a hand across his face. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “What?”

  “Risked your life for those people.”

  “I didn’t risk my life for them. I risked it for the children and… you.”

  He just stares at me in the dim light of the living room, not saying anothe
r word, his lips pressed tightly together as though he wants to say something else.

  I back away from him, hands raised in defeat to avoid any argument. “Okay.” I try to control the quiver in my voice. “Goodnight,” I tell him as I turn and head towards my room. I wasn’t expecting that. Ian was never one to wake so suddenly or react so quickly.

  I shower, rinsing the last of the dried Florida sweat off of my body. Dressing in a pair of old sweats and a tank top, I crawl into bed. An empty bed. And touching the cold pillow next to mine, I wonder if I will always be alone here. Ian has expressed his desire to truly live as husband and wife, but I just can’t bring myself to that. I’m not ready. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready.

  Hearing the familiar sound of Ian’s quiet footsteps in the hall, I hold my breath. As usual, he stops outside my room and then after a few moments, he paces to the kitchen before leaving. I pull the blanket up to my chin and curling onto my side, fall asleep to the sound of Raven’s breaths as he sleeps in his crib.

  --

  I stare at the phone on my desk which was moved to the living room when Ian arrived. Morris will never call me on it again. Neither will Adam. I think about unplugging it and throwing it out into the forest for the Guardians to play fetch with.

  “Mom?” I hear Lina’s voice from the hallway.

  I stand and close the wall cupboard that holds my computer as Lina walks into the living room.

  “You’re home.”

  I lift her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her. She snuggles into my chest. “I missed you, Lina.” I kiss the top of her head. The Guardian by the door raises its head and I hear the shuffle of little feet in the hall. “Raven?” He turns the corner and walks towards us. “How did you get out of your crib?” I ask him as he wanders towards us, hands midair, expecting to be picked up.

  “I think he climbed out,” Lina tells me. “He kept sneaking into my bed while you were gone.”

  “Did you put him back in his crib?”