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

by Pritchard, M. R.

  Ian smiles. “Yeah, I remember that. Never expected her life to change so drastically.”

  “She’s going to be ten soon,” I warn him.

  “Can’t believe that.” He runs his hand through his hair.

  “Me either. This wasn’t the plan I had for her future.”

  “It was right, you were right, choosing her,” he stares into my face. “You had to choose her.”

  “I’ll still never forgive myself.”

  “Forgive yourself.” He reaches forward, brushing the hair off of my face.

  “Your turn,” I tell him, trying to take his focus off of me.

  He stares at me, thinking, and then a sly smile spreads across his lips. “Do you remember that summer I taught you how to swim?”

  Oh, I remember that well. “Don’t you mean our first summer together when you tried everything possible to get me in my underwear or see me naked?”

  “Well it worked, didn’t it?” He smiles widely, showing a faint dimple and a row of perfectly straight white teeth.

  “Not as fast as you had hoped.”

  “Okay, your turn,” Ian tells me.

  “Do you remember Lina’s first word?”

  The memory comes to me easily, all of us sitting at the dinner table, Ian discussing his day, me half-asleep from staying awake after working a night shift. As Ian went on about the interns, he paused to say, “Can you believe that shit?” and like a little parrot Lina set her spoon down and chirped out, “Shit!” with a huge smile on her face and her two bottom teeth jutting out.

  Ian tips his head back, laughing into the spring breeze. “I’m glad no one heard that besides us.”

  “Your turn,” I tell him.

  He looks out over the Pasture, his expression becoming a little more somber. “Do you remember all those times you showed up at my work to bring me to lunch?” He gives a half-hearted smile.

  I glare at him. No, I don’t. And I wouldn’t, because he always begged me to meet him for lunch and I never did. I always told him I was too busy, that I didn’t have time. I can’t believe that he would bring this up now. That he would choose a moment that would make me feel like this. Guilty. Because I am guilty. Of being a bad wife, a horrible wife who would abandon her husband and move on with a new man. I guess that’s the problem with memories, we don’t all remember everything the same way. It’s subjective. This is where Akiyama’s plan backfires.

  I am filled with hot anger. “Do you remember,” I spit out at him, “that time when I was getting ready for work and the house was a mess and Lina had on the same pajamas for two days and her hair hadn’t been combed and you wanted to know what was for dinner as you sat in front of the television? Do you remember that night I left? Because I do every single day! I remember coming home to look for you both and all the shit I went through that day, Ian. I had to walk home. Forty miles! Did Crane or anyone else tell you that? Did they tell you what I went through to find you and when I got here all I found was that our daughter was gone and you weren’t the same?” I try to control the rapid beating of my heart and the shaking of my hands, but I can’t.

  The blood drains from Ian’s face.

  Yeah, this little game definitely backfired. And I feel like an ass. I just told him not so long ago that I forgave him for not protecting Lina and now here I am, yelling at him about the same situation. It seems my heart and my brain are at a disconnect. I know I can’t blame him, but I can’t seem to get rid of those feelings from that day. I stand, ready to walk around the other side of the platform, to get away from him and climb down the ladder. Ian stands faster than I move. Gripping my shoulders, he stops me from dodging him.

  “Andie-”

  “I don’t think this little game is going to help us, Ian.” I can’t even look up at his face as I speak. Instead I stare at his shoulder, watching the muscle twitch as he squeezes my arm.

  “You just have to give it time,” his deep voice becomes so soft.

  “We don’t have enough time.”

  “Yes, we have all the time we want now.”

  “No, Ian, I thought we had time. I thought we had a normal life when it was just our little family, then everything changed. And I get the horrible feeling it’s going to change again soon. We don’t have all the time in the world to fix this.”

  “That’s why you need to stop thinking about time and live in these moments, Andie, you need to be here now. Not somewhere in the future, trying to plan and worry. Be here now. For Lina and Raven and… me.” I move my eyes to his, as his hand moves to my face. “Do you remember-”

  “I don’t want to play anymore,” I tell him.

  He grips my chin, forcing me to make eye contact with him. “Be here, Andie. Do you remember when it was the Fourth of July and we were standing in the park watching the fireworks?” I nod at him, remembering those carefree summer days. “Do you remember that when they were done I turned to you and asked you if you would be my girlfriend?” I nod, my chin trembling. “Do you remember what you said?” I shake my head, my brain too scattered at the moment to remember every absolute detail. “You said maybe.”

  His words make me remember. I did say maybe, because Ian had a reputation back then; he was a player and I didn’t want to be another name on his list of conquered girls.

  “You said maybe,” he continues. “Not yes, or hell yes, or dear God yes, or anything. You said maybe and you smiled that little quiet smile you used to do and the summer park music played. You know what I was like back then, a college guy looking for one thing. You know what I would have done if you were just another girl, Andie. I would have walked away. But I didn’t give up on you then and I’m not going to give up on you now. I loved you from the first time I saw you and I love you now. You are my wife and I’m not going to give up so easily.”

  “But I’ve done things,” I confess to him, looking away. “I’ve done bad things and I hurt you. There’s Raven-”

  “I don’t care,” he tells me, his expressions seeming to vibrate between soft and cold. “I don’t care what you’ve done. I could be angry. I could be sad. God knows I’ve felt a combination of those feelings since Crane woke me up. But those feelings aren’t going to get me anywhere. What happened here is unbelievable, but we are still alive, we still have each other. If Crane hadn’t chosen you to do what you do, it could be worse, we could all be dead.” I barely contain my sharp intake of breath. There was a point when I thought I might have died, or that Crane might have killed me. I’m sure Ian can see it flash on my face. “Do you want to tell me about the other things?” he asks. “I know that there is a lot I don’t know about.”

  I’ve only told one other person everything that has happened and now he’s dead, his makeshift gravestone solidly set in the ground just a few yards from the water tower ladder.

  “You want to hear everything?” I ask. “What they did for two years while you were medicated?” He nods yes to me, dropping his hands from my shoulders. I raise my hand, self-consciously rubbing my finger over the now permanent bump in my nose from when Baillie broke it.

  I sit and talk.

  When I’m done spouting my memories, I finally look up to Ian. With his digestion of everything, the look on his face is the same as Adams was: cold and angered. His mood shifts as he notices me watching him, his features soften.

  “Do you remember when,” he starts, “we were just married and had landed in Hawaii for our honeymoon?” I stare at him. “And we spent a whole week alone? It was just us and the beach.”

  I’m not sure if it’s a smart thing for him to do, tethering one horrible memory with such a good one. For the moment it works. Those images of Baillie are replaced with ones of our honeymoon, with the beach and the sun and the hot nights in our rented bungalow. I get that clenching sensation in my stomach, the familiar one I used to get when we were young and in the early stages of our relationship.

  He leans towards me. I wait, anticipating the pressure of his lips on mine and the familiar
smell of him. Fueled by the memories of our honeymoon, it all comes flooding back, those feelings. This time I kiss him back and it all returns in a spark, an instant. The feelings. Every single one I’ve ever had for him. They flood me. A giant swelling wave so strong it’s ready to burst from my chest. I should stop. I shouldn’t let it go further. I should wait for us to heal, to weave and mend together like the roots of the old forest oak trees, deep and strong and unshakable. But I am weak. I can’t stop. This time I lean forward and wrap my arms around his shoulders.

  --

  “Mom!” I hear Lina’s voice as we near the courtyard. “Mom! Dad! Where are you?” she shouts.

  Ian and I break into a sprint, running towards her voice. We find her at the edge of the courtyard looking thoroughly distraught; hair escaping from her ponytail, the ends tangled and curled, her eyes huge and watery.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, out of breath when we finally reach her.

  “Stevie’s missing,” she tells me, her voice wavering, her face twisted with concern. Stevie usually spends her days lying on the floor of the schoolhouse, but she can leave as she pleases, thanks to the dog door Elvis installed.

  “What do you mean?” I look around the empty courtyard. There is no Stevie and none of the Guardians are present.

  “She never came back this morning,” Lina tells me. “She went outside and never came back. I’ve been waiting for her for hours.”

  Ian’s brow wrinkles as he walks behind the schoolhouse, searching. We couldn’t have been gone more than a few hours.

  “Okay, Lina.” I kneel down and hug her. “We’ll look for her. Come on, let’s get Raven first.”

  I take Lina back to the schoolhouse. Blithe opens the door before we reach the porch. “Lina,” she starts, “you can’t just leave the schoolhouse. I can’t leave all the children here to look for you.”

  I squeeze Lina’s hand. “Stevie’s missing,” I tell Blithe.

  “Oh!” She steps back, allowing Lina to walk past her and take her jacket off the coat hook.

  “We’re going to look for her,” I say as Lina passes between us again and sits on the porch steps.

  Blithe turns and looks to the children in the classroom. “Okay,” she tells me. “We’ll help.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  “We do. The children love Stevie. She is as much a part of the classroom as one of the children.” Blithe reaches for the coat rack and, taking a canvas jacket off of one of the hooks, she pushes her arms through it. “Let me just get the children ready.”

  I pick up Raven and, zipping his jacket up to his chin, I step off the porch. Lina sits on the steps, her hands cradling her cheeks. I squeeze her shoulder. “Come on, Lina, let’s start in the field.”

  As we make our way behind the houses, Ian appears with Elvis at his side. “How long she been missing?” Elvis asks.

  “I’m not sure,” I tell him. “Lina said that she went outside this morning and never came back.”

  “Well, it’s nearly afternoon.” Elvis tips his hat and looks towards the sun. “We had better split up if we want to find her by dark.”

  “Why don’t you stay with Blithe and the children?” Ian suggests.

  “Sure,” I tell him as I hear Blithe close the school house door, walking with the other children in tow. I adjust Raven on my hip, waiting for them to catch up with us. Then we set off to search for Stevie.

  We walk across the spring field, the wild iris and lavender brushing against our legs, the soles of our shoes caked with mud. The children shout for Stevie. A few of them bark, trying their best to make her appear or make a noise. The Guardians at the edge of the forest watch us. It seems they’ve multiplied again. I stop counting how many there are when I get to fifty.

  When we reach the edge of the field, we turn to the west, headed for the acres of gardens. As the afternoon sun starts to dip in the sky, I get that panicked feeling that we might not find her. Lina becomes so upset that she begins to cry.

  Blithe gives me a worried look as we walk between the rows of corn seedlings. “It’s past dinner time,” she tells me.

  “Let’s head back,” I suggest.

  We turn, leading the children back towards the courtyard as they continue to call for our missing dog. I leave Blithe at her house and tell the boys goodbye.

  “We’ll never find her in the dark,” Lina tells me, her voice soft and distressed.

  “Let’s get you something to eat, Lina. Daddy and Elvis will keep looking for her. I’ll call Sam to come help.”

  “Okay,” she tells me, her head hung, dragging her feet.

  Astrid takes Lina’s hand, trying to give her friend just a little bit of comfort. “It will be alright,” Astrid tells her in a quiet voice.

  I cook a small dinner and try to keep the conversation off of Stevie as I rush them through the meal and into the bathtub. Just as I lay Raven down to sleep there is a knock at the door. I hear Lina’s footsteps as she runs to answer it, and as I make my way down the hall, I can tell from the scene before me that the news isn’t good. Ian stands on the porch, Elvis is a few feet away. He’s carrying what looks like a burlap sack over both of his arms.

  Ian kneels in front of Lina. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he tells her.

  Lina cries. She howls and screams and sobs as though she’s lost her best friend. She did just lose her best friend. Ian wraps his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest, muffling her sobs.

  I walk down the steps and over to Elvis.

  “What happened to her?” I ask. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm myself.

  “Not sure. Found her at the back of the grazing lands lying by the far fence, edge of the property. There’s no wounds. Seems to be natural causes.”

  I turn and see Astrid standing in the doorway, her eyes wide, chin trembling. I rush over to her and pick her up. Ian picks up Lina. We carry them both inside, doing our best to soothe their broken hearts. Ian rocks Lina and I sit with Astrid on her bed. We wait as they fall asleep, tucking them into bed when the sobs stop wracking their small bodies.

  Together we leave the room and the sadness hits me as I close the door and don’t see Stevie lying at the foot of Lina’s bed. Stevie was my dog before she was Lina’s. And even though she slept each night at the foot of Lina’s bed, I would pat her head on my way out of the room and inform Stevie of what I was doing. She was always there, for all of us.

  Trying not to wake the girls, I choke back the tears but it must have been loud enough for Ian to hear. When I turn around he is there, wrapping his arms around me, and just like our daughter did, I cry into his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears. He rubs my back, his warm hand moving in slow circles over the thin fabric of my shirt, slowing slightly when he feels the scars that are there, scars he doesn’t know about.

  While part of me wants to stay in the hallway with his warm arms wrapped around me, the rest of me wants to hide and privately deal with the losses that have been dealt to us in such a short time. Adam, Morris and Stevie. They are all dead. While Morris’s death was expected, the others weren’t. There was no time for goodbye. No planning for the grief. We will never enjoy another day with them in our lives.

  The next day brings a spring thunderstorm, which just adds to the somberness of the house. I keep the children from school to mourn, spoiling them with warm milk and honey, cookies, and books filled with fairytales. Elvis visits, bringing Stevie’s collar and telling us that we can bury her the next day. We had already planned to bury Morris the next day. Just a simple act while the children were in class, with no more than Elvis and myself standing at the gravesite. I never thought we would be burying Morris and Stevie together.

  The next day the girls pick handfuls of wildflowers. I show them how to wrap the stems with twine so they resemble bouquets.

  When we are done and the dirt has been replaced, and small homemade bouquets rest on the mounds of fresh soil, there is an uncomfortable silence. As my eyes focus on Adam’s gra
vestone, Ian shifts on his feet. Raven wiggles in my arms. I set him down. He toddles to Adam’s gravestone. And staring in a quiet observation he reaches out with his chubby fingers and touches the cold granite. He stands like that for a moment as Lina and Astrid become consumed with picking the surrounding wildflowers and setting them on Stevie’s grave, which does not have a stone yet, just a perfect rectangle of overturned soil. And then, as though Raven has come to a conclusion, he turns from Adam’s gravestone and walks towards Ian, raising his arms, signaling he wants to be picked up. Ian lifts Raven into his arms, who rests his head on Ian’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

  When Ian’s eyes finally meet mine I give him a small smile.

  chapter thirteen

  There is something about death that creates this strange urge to find comfort in the arms of someone else. Maybe it’s because we are looking for a reminder that we are alive, a celebration that our souls remain on this earth as our loved ones ascend into the heavens. I’m not certain what it is. All I know is that I want to be alive, for just a few minutes. I don’t want to feel like I have felt lately: lost and alone, even though I’m surrounded by family.

  As the children sleep and Ian goes to the barn with the excuse of helping Elvis with farm work, I work on the Residents pairings. Of course, now it includes many more Residents, the new ones from Crystal River and a few in Wolf Creek, the District that lies on the eastern edge of Kansas. I scan the data, noting the Residents who have been preselected to get the injection with the DNA altering vectors, the ones which will forever alter these people, turning them into the subordinate humans that Crane so desires. He plans to start with a few hundred Residents from Phoenix, before subjecting the rest of the District Residents to the same therapy.

  I immerse myself in the data for what must be a few hours until, feeling a soft prickle on the back of my neck, I look up and turn. Ian is standing quietly on the other side of the room.