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

by Pritchard, M. R.

  “The Reformation was a secret to the rest of the world, to the population. Only a select few knew of us, knew what was about to happen and there were certain rules.”

  “No one talks?” I ask.

  “Precisely. We didn’t know who all the other Funding Entities were when this all started, we just knew that they were there and that they would work just as hard as we would to ensure the plan didn’t fail.”

  “Failure is not an option,” I parrot out the phrase I’ve heard one too many times since I’ve become a part of this.

  “Yes. I’m sure you’ve heard this before. Failure was not, and is still not, an option. We do what we can to keep the Districts running, to keep the Residents safe, to keep this new society humming along as a well-oiled machine. So all Berkley had to do was sit back and relax and wait for this all to unfold.”

  “Let me guess, he didn’t sit back?”

  “No. Berkeley went out and hired someone to figure out who else Crane was working with.”

  “Adam?” I guess with a whisper.

  “Precisely.”

  “And that is how Adam knew Crane wanted me to help him.”

  “Precisely.”

  “This still doesn’t explain why Berkley is still so afraid of him.”

  “Crane has one more surprise, one more detail to unleash in all of this.”

  “What is that?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “But you just told me you are on our side, that you’ll help us get him out.”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure it’s entirely true. Could just be a rumor between Entities.”

  I shake my head in disappointment. “You said that you’re on our side, George.”

  “Don’t worry, Andie, I am,” he assures me with a smile, pushing his glasses back up on his nose.

  “I don’t like this,” I tell George. “It feels like you’re lying to me.”

  “I don’t lie, Andie. This is just one fact Crane must bring to light on his own, that’s all. Besides, if I wasn’t on your side, I wouldn’t have drawn up a plan to get you around the Tonopah District.” He hands a piece of paper to me, a map of the intact train tracks, expertly drawn with a way to avoid even getting close to Tonopah.

  “How do you know these tracks are secure?” I ask him, noticing the tracks veer off of our previous route, taking a separate set that cuts across the country.

  “We’ve already checked them. I sent a team out when you left Phoenix. They flew the length of the tracks to make sure they are secure.”

  I take the map from him. “I hope you’re right.”

  “I’m right. Go to Crystal River. Get them on board. And then go home.”

  “And if the Survivors attack?”

  “Then you will have the perfect diversion to get Crane out.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  George looks away from me. “I think Sam is done.”

  I look up and see Sam walking towards us, the other men behind him, pulling the cart loaded with supplies. “How will we get all of this back to the train?” I ask.

  “We have vehicles and the workers here can help,” he ensures me with a pat on my shoulder.

  As I watch Sam walk towards us, I am reminded of the pact I made with Blithe.

  “George?” I ask.

  “Yes?”

  “Why aren’t you married?”

  “Whoever said I wasn’t?”

  We return above ground to the Jeep. The Guardians sit, waiting and watching as we get in the vehicle. George pulls away, speeding across the sandy plain just as he did before. Sam turns around, his hair blowing wildly in the wind, and points behind us. I turn to see the Guardians running behind the Jeep at a steady pace. When I turn back around to face Sam he points at the speedometer. George is driving over eighty miles per hour. Sam smiles, a glimmer of wit in his eyes. He must be thinking the same thing I am: I’ve never known a dog that could run eighty miles per hour.

  chapter seventeen

  Crystal River

  The route George Crossbender mapped out for us was tiresomely uneventful. We saw nothing. Not a single person, or house, or demolished city. The tracks were spread across some obsolete stretch of land that held only emptiness. The sweltering Florida air was almost a welcome change among the monotony of the cross country trek.

  “Horses won’t last long in this heat,” Tim warns us as Sam slows the train to enter the Crystal River District. There is movement in the surrounding tropical vegetation, the random movement of a heavy branch, the blur of a dark figure moving between the trees.

  “We won’t be here long,” Sam replies.

  “Someone’s watching us out there,” Tim says as he steps out of view of the engine car windows.

  The now heavily guarded gate to Crystal River opens, allowing us inside. We slowly pass the grassy open area between the electrified fence and wall encompassing this District.

  “Something’s wrong,” Sam says. The train lurches a bit as he slows it further.

  “What’s going on?” I walk up next to him. Sam points ahead of us. There is a row of Volker standing in our path, guns drawn. I notice that we aren’t even inside the cement wall, we aren’t close to the train platform. No, we are in the same location where we interviewed the Survivors, just far enough away to control problems and force the problem outside the walls. Now we are the ones looking down the barrels of twenty semi-automatic weapons.

  Sam stops the train.

  “What should we do?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure.” He moves to reach behind one of the benches, pulling out a duffel bag.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  He opens the bag, pulling out two pistols. He hands one to me and one to Tim. By the time he’s done, the Volker outside have moved closer. I recognize Colonel Ramirez outside the window. There is the sound of a fist rapping on the door. I look to Sam.

  “What do you think is going on?”

  “Andie?” I hear Ramirez shout from outside the door. “Sam?”

  “What do we do?” I ask Sam, my heart racing.

  “Stay where you are,” he tells me as he steps towards the door.

  There is another sharp rapping on the door. “Andie?” Ramirez shouts.

  Sam whips the door open. “What’s this all about, Ramirez?”

  The stern look seems to melt off of Ramirez’s face. “You’re all okay?” he asks.

  “Why wouldn’t we be?” Sam asks him.

  “You missed your stop in Tonopah. We were afraid the train was intercepted.”

  “We had a change of plans,” Sam tells him.

  Ramirez leans into the engine car and looks around. He glances at Tim before his eyes stop on me. “You sure?” he asks. I nod.

  “Okay, you can pull the rest of the way in.” Ramirez steps away, signaling to the Volker to move off of the tracks. Sam pulls the train the rest of the way into Crystal River, stopping at the platform.

  Emanuel is waiting for us when we exit the train. “Crane called,” he snaps at us. “You were supposed to stop in Tonopah yesterday evening and pick up troops, what happened?” He looks from me to Sam.

  “We had a change of plans,” I tell him as Colonel Ramirez jogs up behind Emanuel, his weapon slung over his shoulder. I turn around noticing he’s alone. “Where’s the rest of the Volker that were with you?”

  “Guarding the fence,” he tells me as Ramirez wipes the sweat off of his forehead.

  I look at Emanuel. “The Survivors are watching us,” he tells me. “They are always at the fence, day and night. We’ve had to keep Volker out there to guard the entrance. Now, what’s this about changing your plans?”

  “I had to go to the Districts where I had the greatest possibility of getting everyone on board,” I tell him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We couldn’t stop in Tonopah,” Sam tells them. “Sakima would never side with us on this.”

  “You’re planning something, aren’t you?” Emanuel
asks me.

  “We want Crane out,” I tell him. “He’s a loose cannon. I have most of the other Funding Entities on board.”

  “Who else?” Emanuel asks.

  “Wolf Creek, Hanford and the other Sovereign in Phoenix,” I tell him.

  “What about Galena?” Emanuel asks. “Did you speak with Berkley?”

  “I don’t have time to go all the way to Galena. But from the sound of it, Berkley doesn’t much care for Crane.”

  “What’s in it for us?” Emanuel asks. “If we side with you?”

  “We have weapons for you,” I tell him.

  “And horses,” Sam speaks up.

  “I don’t have orders to leave horses here,” Tim interrupts from behind us. I almost forgot he was here, listening this entire time.

  I hold my hand up, silencing him. “The original plans of the Funding Entities remain the same,” I tell Emanuel. “The only change is that Crane is out of the picture.”

  “What are you going to do to him?” Ramirez asks.

  “Exile him, imprison him. We’re not sure,” I tell them.

  “Well,” Ramirez looks to Emanuel. “That would explain why we lost communications.”

  “You lost communications with Crane?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Emanuel tells us. “This morning I’ve been unable to contact Crane. This is unlike him.”

  This is too early for Crane to be disappearing. Elvis and Ian agreed to wait until we made it back or if the Survivors attacked while we were gone. This change of events is unplanned, unexpected and it worries me. “We need to get home then,” I tell Sam.

  “Why didn’t you stop in Tonopah and get them on board? You were supposed to bring troops to help us,” Emanuel asks.

  I shake my head at them. “Sakima keeps everyone in the Tonopah District medicated, so they will listen to him. Do you really think it’s a good idea having armed Volker from Tonopah in our Districts, following the orders of Sakima?”

  “I’ve never been fond of Sakima,” Emanuel replies with an itch of his chin.

  “We will leave you horses and weapons,” I tell them.

  “Are you trying to bribe us?” Emanuel asks.

  “Hell yes. And having Crane gone should be an adequate bribe. The horses and weapons are the icing on the cake,” Sam tells them. “They are for you to defend yourselves from the Survivors until we get a chance to deal with them ourselves.”

  Emanuel shifts on his feet. “Ramirez, go get the others. Andie can fill them in while you help unload what they’ve brought us.”

  Ramirez leaves, walking towards their District Headquarters which is just across the parking lot from the train platform. The heat rises off of the cracked blacktop in waves and swirls around his legs as he walks.

  “Tim.” I turn to find him glaring at me. “I need you to leave half of the horses here.”

  “Them horses ain’t ready,” he tells me in an angry country drawl.

  “Then leave the ones that are closest to ready. I’m sure you know the ones,” I tell him. “I have to call home.”

  I step away from the men as they walk towards the cars holding the cargo. The horses whinny and stomp, eagerly awaiting their release from the stuffy train. I open the cell phone, noticing that the battery is less that twenty-five percent but there’s a full signal. I press redial and wait. The phone rings. It rings and rings and no one answers. I end the call and dial the number again, my heart rate picking up, my mind running a mile a minute. This can’t be good.

  I turn to find Ramirez leading Richard Ruiz to where I am standing. I see the gleam of Richard’s fancy watch and I can barely believe he’s wearing a dark gray suit in this heat.

  “So,” Richard starts as he gets within earshot of me. “I hear you’re planning a revolution. I knew you were trouble when I met you.” He gives a sly smile.

  “I’m not planning a revolution, Richard,” I tell him. “I didn’t plan anything. I was just asked to help rally the other Entities. Where are Javier and Mateo?”

  “They aren’t Entities, therefore they don’t get to hear this,” Richard replies.

  “I assumed that didn’t matter here since Ramirez has been present for all of our conversations.”

  “That is because Goyo Ramirez is one of us.”

  I look behind Richard, at Ramirez, who shrugs his shoulders at me. “Of course he is.”

  “Did he fill you in then? Are you on board?”

  “Details, my dear,” Richard tells me. “What are the details?”

  “We are bribing you with guns, horses and Crane’s removal from the Funding Entities. Are you with us?”

  “How do you know Tonopah wouldn’t like to join in?” he asks. “I heard you never stopped to ask them.”

  “If you know anything about Tonopah, Richard, then you know Sakima is just like Crane; he would never agree, he would side with Crane. And if we exile Crane I’m sure he will run straight for Tonopah.”

  Richard looks towards the blue sky, contemplating. After a moment he turns back to me. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Feeling the sweat trickle down my back, I ask him, “Aren’t you dying in that suit?”

  “I’m used to it,” he smiles. “I’m originally from Rio de Janeiro.” His accent suddenly turns thicker, his voice dropping a few octaves as though he’s just revealed a deep secret.

  I blink at him. “Aren’t you dying in that suit?” I ask again.

  Richard laughs. “I’m used to the heat.” He wipes his hand across his brow. “See, I’m not even sweating.”

  “That’s great. You want to help unload?” I point to where Tim and Sam are unloading the horses by leading them down a wooden ramp and off of the train. Emanuel takes the reins from Tim and, talking gently to the horses, he leads them away.

  As Richard and Ramirez leave to help unload, I open the cell phone and try calling home again. I count the rings: fifteen. There’s still no answer.

  Sam and Tim slide closed the door to the train car that holds the horses. Then they move on to the car holding the weapons. I walk over to them as Sam pulls crates of securely packed weapons, bullets and armor to the edge of the opening. The other men lift the crates in pairs, carrying them to the shaded area of the train platform.

  “Sam,” I interrupt him. “No one is answering the phone in Phoenix.”

  He stands, sweat dripping down the side of his face, saturating his Volker uniform. “We’ll leave as soon as we’re done.”

  Richard and Emanuel stand at the opening to the train car, next to me. “Survivors are getting brave,” Emanuel tells us. “We’ve had a few try to jump the fence.”

  “How is that possible?” I ask him. Their electrified fence is over twenty feet high.

  “There are some young ones, they climb the trees, try to swing themselves over.”

  “What did you do to them?” I ask.

  “Nothing.” Emanuel reaches for the next crate that Sam sets down. “The fence took care of them.”

  And by that I know he means it fried them to a crisp.

  We leave half of the horses and almost half of the weapons and armor. “We’ll be in contact,” I tell Emanuel and Ramirez as I step on the train to leave. Tim paces the engine car, stopping only to look nervously out the windows at the horses we’ve left behind.

  Sam starts the engine and, driving forward, turns the train around on the loop track ahead of us. I wave at Emanuel out the window as we pass them again. As we get closer to their fence, the Volker walk closer to the entrance, readying their weapons.

  “I think it might be best to get up to speed as soon as possible,” I tell Sam, noticing the movement in the nearby vegetation. Just like before, branches quiver and shadows move within the tropical forest.

  “Yup,” he replies, pushing the gear forward.

  --

  As the evening darkens, Tim leaves the engine car to head for the sleeping bunks. I flip open the cell phone, the battery icon is red and there is only one bar of signal. I dia
l home. There’s still no answer.

  “You’re going to kill that battery,” Sam warns me from the helm.

  “It’s almost dead already,” I tell him.

  “We’ll be home soon. Just a few more hours, probably make it home by dawn.”

  I nod at him, my head heavy with exhaustion and anticipation. My body isn’t sure if it should sleep or pace. “I don’t like traveling,” I admit to Sam.

  “I know,” he replies. I can almost see his face with the soft glow from the single bulb that is attached to the wall behind him. “Sis?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you ever remember what it was like before all of this?”

  “Every day.”

  “You remember when we were kids?”

  “Um hmm.” I remember his tall, gangly arms and legs. Everyone called him my big brother even though I was almost six years older than him. I remember living in a time when the only worries we had were what we would get for Christmas or what brand of backpack we would pick out for school.

  “Do you remember when Mom and Dad used to take us to the lake, to that fish place?” He looks out the window quickly. “We would have dinner and ice cream and then throw rocks into the water. I can’t remember the name of it. Do you remember?” he asks me.

  I close my eyes, trying to remember. I can see us standing on the shoreline, the shadows of the seagulls circling overhead. The smell of dried lake weeds mixed with the heavy scent of fried food. Sam holds a giant rock over his head and tosses it into the lake water with all of his might. I see the white clapboard building, weather worn and facing the lake.

  “Rudy’s,” I tell him. “I think it was called Rudy’s.”

  “Yes!” he exclaims. “Rudy’s, that’s the name of it. They had the best chicken nuggets. Oh, I can taste them now. I miss that food.”

  “Oh my God, Sam,” I laugh a little. “You were just talking about this great fish shop and then you say you loved their chicken nuggets.”

  “I guess I just miss it all.” He moves to sit next to me.

  “I do too,” I tell him, leaning against his shoulder.

  “Do you think this will work?” he asks.

  “It’s kind of late to be asking that, isn’t it, Sam?”