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

by Pritchard, M. R.

  I sigh and collect the stack of clothes from the bench. Returning to one of the dry shower stalls I dress myself in privacy. Removing the towel, I use it to dry my hair, twisting it into a turban on top of my head. Adam has found a pair of fitted black sweatpants, a T-shirt with the high school logo of a bear printed on the front, and a hooded sweatshirt. The pants are a little loose, the shirt way too tight. It’s a good thing the sweatshirt is just baggy enough to cover it all up. The clothes smell like stale dust. I leave the stall to look in one of the mirrors attached to the wall. The disappointment must be evident on my face.

  “What’s wrong?” Adam asks as he stands.

  “I look like I’m in high school in this getup.” I turn back to my wet clothes that are hanging on the hook. “Maybe I can change when those are dry.”

  Adam hands me a pair of running sneakers. I check the tag and see they are about a half-size bigger than what I normally wear. He moves to the shower and taking my wet clothes and boots he throws them in the garbage.

  “Hey!” I start.

  “You can’t wear them again,” he tells me as he walks towards me. “It’s better that you look like a teenager. Give me your wrist.” I look down to see him holding a strip of cloth in his hand. “Your wrist with the mark.” His voice has the hint of impatience.

  I pull the sleeve up on the sweatshirt and hold my wrist out to him. He wraps the cloth around my arm and knots it, covering the image of the phoenix. “I don’t want anyone else finding out who you are.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “These Survivors were pretty happy to find you. And to think all I had to do was promise to trade you for Crane and let them keep the horses and guns. If others found out that you were loose, others who know what a value you are to Crane, we’d be in a load of trouble. It only took a few days for word to travel to me. I’m sure others will be looking for you soon enough.” He looks at my feet. “Put the sneakers on. We need to get out of here.”

  I look down at the brightly colored shoes. “We’re at least two states away, Adam. I don’t think sneakers are the best shoes. I’d rather have my boots.”

  “Too bad.” He shakes his head at me. “Let’s go.”

  I bend to put the shoes on.

  “Are you planning on bringing Crane back here?” I ask him as I tie the shoelaces.

  “That’s the plan.” He looks towards the door as I untwist the towel from my hair.

  “And you think Crane will come?” I ask running my fingers through the curls and tangles.

  “Probably not without a fight. But since you already started a resistance group in Phoenix, it should be easier to get him out of there.”

  “I didn’t start the group,” I tell him defensively. “I don’t want to be held responsible for starting the resistance from within Phoenix. Elvis started the group. I was one of the last ones asked to be involved. Elvis brought on Sam and Ian before he even spoke to me.”

  “Then why did they send you out to speak with everyone?”

  “Because Elvis said the other Entities trust me, that they would listen to me.”

  “Hmm.” Adam looks around the empty locker room.

  “Do you have more of that cloth?” I ask.

  “For what?”

  “So I can put my hair up.” I motion to the mass of hair cascading down my back.

  His gaze falls over me. “You should leave it down,” he suggests.

  “You shouldn’t have died, and then maybe I’d listen to your suggestions on how I should dress or do my hair.”

  He reaches into his pocket, retrieving something and holding his hand out to me, I see a rubber hair-tie resting in his palm. I grab at it and twist my wet hair into a bun. “Jerk.”

  “Are you ready yet?” Adam asks me impatiently. “Those men are going to think something else is going on in here if you take much longer.”

  “Shut up.” I throw the towel in his face and march towards the door.

  Adam grabs my arm before I get there. “You don’t leave my side,” he tells me, his face turning serious.

  “Why?”

  “What part of you’re the only woman here did you not understand?”

  Without giving me a chance to answer, Adam opens the door and we walk out of the locker room together. I follow him down the hallway, past the gymnasium and the stairs. The same men stand in the hall, again they stop talking and watch as we walk past them. I notice Adam walking towards the front doors of the building.

  “Don’t you need to speak to anyone?” I ask. “Let them know you are leaving?”

  “Definitely not,” he replies, pushing on the door at the entrance of the school.

  “Hey!” I hear a familiar voice shout down the hallway. Adam grabs my arm and turns. Mack walks swiftly towards us. He looks at me then back at Adam. “You sure you want to take her alone?” he asks.

  Adam nods. “Yeah. I can handle her and it’ll be faster this way.”

  Mack leans to look out the door. “You know, if you don’t come back Christian will be looking for you. Won’t be good,” he warns, his eyes settle on me. “She put up a fight. Tried to run twice-”

  “About that, Mack,” I interrupt. “Tell Chuck thanks for the brain damage.”

  Mack smirks. “I warned you not to run.” He turns to Adam. “You sure?”

  “I told you. I can handle her,” Adam replies with confidence. “You tell Christian I’ll be back in a few days.”

  “Would love to,” Mack says. “But I’ve never seen the soul.”

  “I’ll be back. See you in a few days, Mack.” Adam nods.

  We step out of the building and walk down the front steps. For the first time in a long time I am filled with a sense of relief at my current freedom. Happy that I didn’t die in that bathroom, relieved that I can go home. Finally.

  And then something strikes me as odd, the fact that Mack is letting Adam walk out of here with me alone. I stop, turning to Adam. “They wouldn’t have let you walk out of here with me alone if they had known we were together before.”

  Adam just stares at me, a smile starting.

  “I didn’t have to kiss you back there. Did I? No one was watching.” His smile just grows wider. “You’re an ass.”

  “Just think of it as a farewell kiss,” he says. “I never kissed you goodbye before I left to find you the medicine. I regret that every day.”

  “You didn’t have to lie to me, again,” I tell him. “How are we getting back?” I ask, looking up and down the street.

  “Well, I thought we could walk.” I cringe remembering the walk we took home after the bombings. “But then I figured, why walk when I have a truck?”

  “What?” I ask shocked.

  He starts walking across the street towards an old black truck, no, it’s not old. It’s a classic, with rounded corners. I run after him. “How do you have a truck? Does it even run?”

  “Why wouldn’t it?”

  “Because Crane bombed the entire country and there is no more fuel.”

  “There’s some fuel. And a lot of people still have running vehicles. Fuel is just in very short supply.”

  “You have enough to make it home?”

  “We’ll see. I have enough to get us pretty far.”

  “What about the roads?”

  “Some are good and some are bad. These guys let me know what the local roads are like, the ones that are passable. We’ll just go as far as we can and then if we have to we’ll walk the rest of the way. It’s not like we haven’t done it before, Andie.”

  He opens the passenger side door. I get in and watch as he makes his way to the driver’s side and gets in. He starts the truck and, shifting it into gear, he pulls away.

  “Say good-bye to Romney, West Virginia,” Adam tells me as he drives down the street.

  --

  “Who’s Christian?” I ask as Adam drives down a bumpy country road.

  “Someone who thinks he’s in charge of the Survivors.”

  “Like th
eir President or something?”

  “Or something,” he murmurs as he stops at an intersection. Pulling forward, he leans, looking down the roads, deciding which one he should take. They both look clear to me. Adam turns the truck left and continues to drive.

  “What’s it like in Colorado?” I ask.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because based on what Crane told us and what I heard from Dr. Drake, and what we’ve seen at the gates in Crystal River, it’s not safe and it’s not good.”

  “Colorado is okay,” he says with a shrug.

  “It’s safe?” I ask. “I mean… you’re safe there?”

  “I have freedom.” He looks at me. “I don’t have someone telling me what to do. Colorado isn’t so bad. But there are other areas that are terrible. The east coast is being overrun with some pretty dangerous people right now. That’s why I came for you.”

  “You’re not coming back to Phoenix are you?”

  He turns to look at me. “Don’t you want me to come back?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I stare straight ahead and watch the trees pass by us.

  “Why not?”

  “Because everyone thinks you’re dead. Including Lina and Raven.” Bringing him back would only cause trouble.

  He slows the truck to a stop and throws the gear into park. Turning towards me, with his arm stretched across the back of the seat, he asks, “Would you go back, now that you’re out?”

  “Would I go back?” It seems like such an absurd question I can’t help but repeat it. “Of course. That’s where my family is.”

  “Would you take them out of there if you had the chance?”

  “They’re safe there, even with Crane. I can keep them safe now. We may not have freedoms, but I don’t have to worry about something terrible happening to them. We have food, electricity, a system that seems to work,” I tell him.

  “And then there’s that little part where you altered the genome and created an entire sub-breed of humans.” He doesn’t even look at me when he says it.

  “I didn’t have much of a choice in that.” I look away from him.

  “You don’t feel responsible for it?” he asks as he shifts the truck into gear and starts driving again.

  “Of course I do. But what was I suppose to do, Adam? You were there. You saw what was going on.”

  “You don’t want to take responsibility for what you’ve created?”

  “I was forced to, Adam.”

  “You could have lied,” he suggests.

  I shake my head. “No. Crane would have figured that out. He’s smart. Smarter than we think.”

  He drives in silence and the silence makes me feel like he’s judging me, holding me responsible for altering the Residents. I don’t like it.

  “I tried to leave.” I start again after we’d driven about a mile or so. “Remember? I took Lina and tried to run away from there. You remember what happened, even though you weren’t there? You saw me afterwards.” I move my hand, running my finger over the bump in my nose. “I couldn’t very well keep Lina safe if I were dead. What would you have done in my position?”

  Adam stares straight ahead. I can see the muscle twitch in his jaw. “I would have killed him.”

  “I wasn’t trained to kill people like you.”

  “Training doesn’t matter, Andie. I’ve seen plenty of people kill out here. And most haven’t had any training. I guess it just comes down to what kind of a person you are.”

  “I’ve had enough of death, Adam. That’s the kind of person I am. And I think I’m done with this conversation.” I turn my body away from him, facing the passenger side window. And curling up on the seat, I lay my head against the headrest and close my eyes.

  --

  Somehow I slept. The anger boiling through my veins had the opposite effect of keeping me awake, instead it lulled me into a deep sleep. Or, maybe it was the effects of a full stomach, a hot shower, and finally feeling safe with Adam at my side, knowing that I was going home.

  I wake with a stiff neck and the realization that we are no longer moving. I sit up in a panicked rush, looking around the truck cab. Adam is no longer at the wheel. I look out the windows, turning full around until I find him standing at the rear of the vehicle. He’s filling the gas tank with cans from the back of the truck. Paying no attention to me, he looks up and down the long country road as he unscrews another gas can and pours its contents into the truck’s gas tank.

  My legs tingle from being in the same position for so long. I open the door and slide out of the passenger seat until my feet hit the ground. Adam watches as I walk to the back of the truck, running my fingers across the paint. It’s a smooth black finish. Not a spot of rust or damage. It seems out of place here.

  “How long did I sleep for?” I ask him as I reach the tailgate.

  “About four hours.” He tips the gas can, draining the last few drops into the truck.

  “How much further?”

  “Maybe another four,” he says as he looks up to the sky.

  I look up too. The day is fading, the moon already present in the evening sky, the sun headed for the horizon. “Do we travel at night?” I ask.

  “That depends how long you want to be stuck in this truck with me.”

  “What if you run out of gas?”

  “Then we walk.”

  “Great.” I look around us at the surrounding forests. “Haven’t run into anyone yet?” I ask.

  Adam shrugs. “Passed a few people. Nothing exciting though.”

  “I thought you said it was dangerous on the east coast?”

  He looks down at me. “It is. That’s why we’re sticking to the back roads.”

  I stare into the woods. My bladder spasms. “I have to pee.”

  “Go for it,” he tells me, wiping his hands on a towel.

  “You think it’s safe in there?” I ask, leaning towards the trees.

  “Well, you could just do it behind the truck,” he shrugs at me and tosses the towel in the back of the truck.

  I decide to relieve myself in the cover of the forest. Walking away from the truck, stepping over the tall grass and brush, I find a concealed area behind a thick bush. When I am done, I stand, adjusting my clothes. Then, hearing the rustling of leaves and snap of a stick, I run out of the forest as fast as I can.

  Adam looks at me with wide, amused eyes. “Chupacabra?”

  “I don’t know,” I tell him out of breath. “There were these people in Crystal River, they tried to climb the fence and get in. Ramirez said they were from the swamps of Louisiana. They spoke this Creole language. It was creepy.”

  “Swamp people, huh?”

  “Yeah. They were really strange.”

  “I doubt they’d make it up this far.”

  “They made it to Phoenix.”

  “It was probably just a deer.” He looks behind me. “Ready?” he asks.

  I walk to the passenger side door and climb into the truck. Adam slides into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.

  “How’s Lina?” he asks as he drives.

  “She’s going to be ten this fall,” I tell him.

  “That was fast.” His hands grip the steering wheel tighter. “She named the baby Raven?” he asks.

  “Yes.” I smile at the memory of her deciding in the hospital.

  “Why did she choose that name?”

  “She said Ms. Black told her ravens were really smart, smarter than humans, and she said she knew he was a smart baby.”

  Adam smiles to himself and then frowns. “What’s wrong with him?” he asks.

  “Nothing. He’s just really quiet.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “Not really. But he’s there, always observing. He makes these faces when I bring him to school. I think he doesn’t like Blithe.”

  “What kind of faces?”

  “I don’t know how to describe it. He just looks like he’s pissed and bored to death.”

  Ad
am lets out a light laugh. “When I was a kid, the school district told my parents that I wasn’t right.”

  “I think I’d have to agree with them.”

  Adam laughs again.

  “Okay, in all seriousness, why?” I ask.

  “Because I was quiet,” he replies with a smile. “And then when I was a little older they made me take this placement exam so they would know what classes to put me in. So they could judge where I needed extra help. I aced it.”

  “What happened then?”

  “My parents pulled me out of school. My mother quit her job at the salon, and taught me at home. I completed my high school work early and went to West Point. Graduated top of my class.”

  “But you told me you went to my High School. You knew everything about that place.”

  “I went there for filler classes. A few things my parents couldn’t teach me at home. But I was never a full-time student there.”

  I stare at him, shocked. “You never told me this before.”

  “You never asked.”

  He drives in silence.

  “Stevie died,” I tell him.

  Adam stares straight ahead as he drives. “How’d Lina take it?”

  “Broke her heart.” I swallow hard remembering that night and the days after, how hard it was for all of us. “Stevie was her best friend.”

  “How’d you take it?” he asks.

  “Hard.” I blink back a tear at the memories of our beloved family dog. “We buried her next to your grave. Yours and Morris’s. Had a ceremony one day. Lina and Astrid picked wild flowers and laid them all out.”

  “I’m sorry I died,” he whispers so low I can barely hear it.

  “You’re not dead anymore.”

  “There’s still time,” he tells me. “There’s still time for me to die today.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because in a few hours I’m sure I’m going to come face-to-face with Ian. And since Crane has already had his shot at killing me I’m expecting Ian’s next.”

  “He’s not going to try and kill you.”

  “Sure about that?”

  “He’s not a violent person. He forgave me.”

  “Some men become violent when their family is threatened.”

  “He has no reason to be violent. You’re bringing me home. You’re not threatening anyone.”