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

by Pritchard, M. R.

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “You should. You need to. It will help you come to terms with your legacy.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “I promised your great-grandfather.”

  “I didn’t know him!” I yell.

  “This is your birthright.”

  “You’ve done nothing but play with my head this entire time.” I point at Crane. “You ruined my family, you threatened me, you wanted me to pair us together. What if I had agreed to your proposition back then? If I had paired us-” I hold down the bile rising in the back of my throat.

  “I would have let Baillie kill you and waited for Catalina to grow up,” Crane tells me before I have a chance to finish my thought. “It would have meant that you were weak, not strong like your great-grandmother was. She fought for you to live. She hid your grandmother in that closet and fought to protect Selene. I had to make sure that you had these same traits.”

  I don’t want this.

  “Just think, Andromeda, you can keep them safe for forever. Generations of your family members.”

  I don’t want this.

  “No harm will become of them. And if someone else should meet the requirements, they may inherit the same gift I am about to bestow upon you. You can make a difference.”

  I don’t want this.

  “Andromeda, you want this. You need this. I need you.”

  I don’t want this.

  But… if he can get them into me, then he can get them out of me. And if I say yes now, then that will give me time to find a cure, to retract the nanocytes and live in peace. I’ve done it before with his creations. I removed the transmitter from Adam’s arm. I can find a way to remove the nanocytes. If I say yes, I get them back, and Crane will believe that I’m on board with this plan of his, this plan of my ancestors.

  I don’t want this.

  “Andromeda?” Crane asks one more time.

  “Okay,” I say with a hesitant voice.

  “You’re ready?” he asks.

  I don’t want this.

  “I… I think so.” I close my eyes. No! “Yes.”

  Opening my eyes, I watch as Crane reaches into his pocket and removes a small metallic disk, no bigger than a half-dollar. “They’ve been inside you this entire time,” he tells me as he places the disc between his index finger and thumb. “Waiting for me to release them. The pain will only be momentary as they attach to your cells and familiarize themselves with your DNA.” He pinches the disc between his fingers. “Forgive me, Andromeda, for the path to becoming a leader of men is not without pain.”

  I feel a sharp pain in my arm, throbbing from where Crane injected my tracking device. I press my hand to the area. It does nothing to stop the throbbing. The feeling intensifies into a burning sensation deep within my arm and then moving up, towards my shoulder.

  “Just give it a moment,” Crane says.

  I swallow a groan of discomfort, dropping down onto one knee, pulling my arm close to my body. It stings and burns as though I submerged my arm in a pot of boiling water. Adam starts to walk towards me, holding his hands out to help me.

  “Get away from me!” I warn him.

  He stands up straight and does nothing but watch. After a few minutes in this position, it seems, the pain dissipates until I can feel it no more. I move to stand once again.

  “Ah,” Crane smiles with accomplishment. “It is done. Congratulations on your immortality.”

  “I’m not thanking you for this,” I tell him.

  “I expected that,” he replies. “So this is where we part. I will give you some time to come to terms with your new mission, Andromeda. But I will call on you again. There are things that need to be discussed.”

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “I think I’ll go to Hanford first. I have to have a discussion with George Crossbender. Then I will visit Sakima.”

  “What about the Residents, the Survivors?” I ask, remembering the war we were planning on defending ourselves against.

  “There will be no war,” he says as he walks towards the door. “You have control of the Residents of Phoenix. And Adam, or dare I say Christian, has control of the Survivors. All is well.” He pulls the door open and walks through. “Tootles.” He waves.

  I follow him and watch as he walks down the hallway and out the front door of the building as though he had not a care in the world. I feel Adam’s presence next to me.

  “What does he have on you?” I ask, turning to Adam.

  He shakes his head from side-to-side, refusing to answer.

  “How could you do this, Adam? How could you agree to this and pull me into it? You’re so selfish.” I start walking towards the gymnasium.

  “No more selfish than you.” He grabs my arm, stopping me. “All this time you’ve been fighting to keep your family safe. This started with your family.”

  “Don’t turn this on me.”

  “I’ve escaped death twice. What happens if there’s a third time? I succeeded in keeping Blithe out of trouble, keeping her safe within Phoenix. And now there’s Raven and Lina, and you.”

  “Don’t include my family. Ian and I can take care of ourselves.”

  “You’d like to think so wouldn’t you?”

  “I’m done, Adam, or Christian. I don’t even know what to call you anymore.”

  “Call me Adam.”

  “Whatever. I don’t ever plan on seeing you again, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “And if I want to see Raven? He is my son, after all.”

  “Yet you’ve never been there for him.”

  “I met him when we brought them here.”

  “And that’s the last time. I’ll be dead before I let you near him again.”

  Just then I hear the door crash open, slamming against the wall. It seems it’s only a second before Ian is running towards Adam. He doesn’t stop or slow or anything. Instead he runs at full speed, stopping only when his fist makes contact with Adam’s face, and it’s a bone crunching sound. A grunt of pain erupts from both of them.

  “Stop!” I yell to Ian. “Stop!”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Ian spits out as he punches Adam from the other side. Adam backs up. I notice he’s not fighting back and barely defending himself. Perhaps he thinks he deserves this.

  “Ian!” I scream at him. “Stop!”

  “Don’t ever come near my family again!” Ian threatens him, twisting the neck of his shirt tight across Adam’s throat. Adam glances in my direction. “Don’t!” Ian warns pulling the handgun from the back of his pants. He presses it to Adam’s lower jaw, his finger twitching near the trigger. “Don’t you dare look at her or the children,” Ian warns with a voice so low and angry it scares me.

  Adam says nothing, he just nods his head slightly, the barrel of the handgun pressing so hard it tips his head to the side. One of the Guardians that has been waiting in the hallway begins a low growl.

  “You’re lucky the Guardians are standing here right now, because if they weren’t, you’d be dead. Which is what will happen if I ever see your face again.” Ian releases Adam’s shirt with a hard shove. Neither of them looks at me.

  “Ian, let’s go, we have to go,” I tell him, pulling at his arm.

  Adam leaves, walking down the hallway towards the locker rooms at the end. I rush to the gymnasium to find the children and Blithe staring in the direction of the doors. They must have heard the commotion. I run to Lina and Raven, crushing them to me, kissing their cheeks and hair. “Are you okay?” I ask them.

  “Mom, you’re back!” Lina answers. Raven stares. “What happened out there?” She leans to the side of me, looking towards the door.

  “Nothing.” I run my hands over the children feeling for injuries. “Just an argument. Come on.” I pick up Raven and take Lina’s hand. “Let’s go home.”

  “But Adam’s out there.” She looks towards the door. “He’s not dead mom,” she whispers, e
yes wide. “It’s a miracle.”

  “No, sweetie, it’s not a miracle. Adam lied to us. Come on. We need to get out of here.”

  “But, Mom,” Lina stalls.

  “I’m sorry, but he’s not coming back with us. Adam lied. We don’t trust people who lie.”

  Moving her eyes to the floor, Lina says, “But he’s alive.”

  There are so many things I want to explain to Lina about love and trust, but this is not the time or the place. Hopefully seeing someone who she thought was dead didn’t ruin her too much.

  I turn to Blithe, who is standing there wide-eyed. “I want to go,” she tells me. “I told Ian already. I didn’t know what they had planned. Adam showed up and said that there was an emergency. I just wanted to keep the children safe.”

  “I know,” I tell her. “But you’re going to leave Adam? You’re going to leave your brother and come back with us?”

  “Everyone at the Pasture is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a family since my parents died and Adam disappeared. He came back after I was recruited by Crane, but… but I barely know him anymore. And…” Blithe looks more out of sorts than I’ve ever seen her, her blonde hair pulling from her bun to fall on her neck and shoulders.

  “Sam?” I ask.

  She smiles a little. “And there’s Sam.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  Ian is on the phone with Sam as we step into the hallway. I hear him getting directions to the closest area of train tracks.

  Picking up Raven and taking Lina’s hand, I lead Blithe and the children out of the school. Ian follows, repeating directions into the phone. As we reach the front door, I notice Mack standing near the entrance.

  “See ya, Mack!” one of the boys shouts as we walk by him.

  “Later, gator,” Mack replies. He looks up as we pass and gives us a nod. “Just follow the trail back to the tracks,” he tells us.

  We walk the trail that Mack and Chuck brought me to Romney on.

  “Do you want me to carry Raven?” Ian asks when we reach the field where I remember throwing up and turning hysterical.

  “No.” I shift Raven onto my opposite hip. “I’m not tired yet.”

  --

  When we reach the edge of the forest and the train tracks are visible in a narrow clearing, Ian takes out the cell phone and dials a number.

  “Alexander?” he asks. “We’re at the tracks-” He pulls the phone away and stares at the screen, his brow wrinkled.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “The line went dead.” The corner of his mouth downturns as he tries to call again. I see a notification pop up on the screen.

  “What’s it say?” I ask.

  “No service,” he replies.

  “No service?” Blithe asks from next to me.

  “Great, whatever secure tower the phone was connected to is out of service,” I say.

  “Or that they shut off service to this phone,” Ian points out.

  “What do we do now?” Blithe asks as she turns and looks towards the children.

  “Sam is already on his way,” Ian says. “I guess we just wait.”

  We pass the time by playing games and singing songs with the children, sitting in the clearing near the tracks.

  “If we have to play Eye Spy one more time I’m pretty sure my eyes are going to bleed,” Ian grumbles as he leans towards me.

  “Nice,” I tell him.

  Blithe laughs. She’s sitting across from us. And then, stopping abruptly, her face pales and I notice she is no longer focused on us, but behind us. The back of my neck tingles. The Guardians stand and begin a low growl. I stand and turn, looking across the tracks where Blithe is focused.

  There is a man, his eyes black and hollow, greasy shoulder length hair, and a scar from his left eye to the corner of his mouth.

  “Shit.” Ian moves to his feet before I finish saying the word.

  “Who the hell is that?” he asks, reaching for the handgun that is secured in his waistband.

  Four more of the men slither out of the forest. I gasp, their long greasy hair is familiar, as well as the mud caked to their clothing and exposed skin. They each hold some type of weapon; a machete, an ax, or a strange sword-like thing. They don’t speak; their eyes are black, hollow, and fiery. And fixed on us.

  “Get the children, Blithe.” I turn, pushing Lina and Raven towards her as she reaches for them. “Go back into the forest.”

  “What are you going to do?” She whispers through her teeth. “They have weapons.”

  “I know,” I tell her realizing how vulnerable we are at the moment. We have no Volker with us, just Ian. The oldest of the children, Marcus, is only twelve, and Cashel eleven.

  “Who are they?” Ian asks.

  “Swamp people, from Crystal River.”

  The man with the scar smiles, his mouth curving up just like an alligator’s mouth for an attack. He takes a step towards us.

  “Stay back!” Ian shouts to them.

  The man with the scar says something in their Creole language that I cannot understand. I hear a scream from behind us. Turning, I see that it is Astrid. Blithe tries to soothe her.

  “Take them back!” I tell Blithe. “Follow the trail back to the school.” I reach for my bag, pull the handgun out that Elvis gave me. I hand it to Lina. “You know what to do, Lina. Just like in target practice.”

  “Mom!” Lina cries.

  “Go, Lina. Take Raven and go with Blithe.” I look at the older boys, their faces pale and sweating. Marcus takes Ira’s hand, Cashel takes Lex’s, Lina takes Astrid’s. A small whimper escapes Lina. Blithe picks up Raven and directs the children to the trail we came on.

  “Run!” I tell her. “Run as fast as you can!”

  I watch for a moment as they run into the forest, hand in hand, following the trail that led us to the tracks. The cluster of Guardians runs with the children, only two remain with us.

  Turning, I see that more of the Swamp people have emerged from the tree line. There are now ten of them. Ian flicks the safety off of the handgun.

  “Stay back or I will shoot you!” he yells to them.

  The man takes another step forward. “We hungry,” he says in a thick southern accent.

  “We have no food for you,” I shout to the man.

  He smiles, showing a row of crooked, rotten teeth. “Looks like plenty o’ food hiya.”

  “What the hell is he talking about?” Ian asks.

  “I think they’re cannibals,” I tell him.

  “Shit.” Ian corrects his stance and fires a bullet at the feet of the man with the scar. He laughs. Another row of people slinks out of the tree line. The man with the scar takes another step forward. The Guardians growl louder, flanking each side of us.

  “I only have fourteen bullets left,” Ian whispers to me.

  The man with the scar laughs loudly as though he heard. I reach down, pulling a rock and a stick from the ground.

  “Go!” Ian tells me. “Go after the children.”

  “No.” I grip the heavy stick in my hand. “I’m not sacrificing you to them.”

  “A stick and a stone aren’t going to do shit,” he argues. “Get out of here!”

  “No.”

  The man with the scar stops laughing; gripping the machete in his hand, he lowers himself to a spread-legged, bent-knee stance. And as though I’m watching a pack of wild animals, the rest of the men follow, gripping their weapons, settling themselves into a similar stance, readying for attack.

  “Shoot them,” I whisper to Ian.

  “I’m waiting for them to make the first move.”

  He’s hesitating, he can’t hesitate. I want to take the gun from his hands and shoot these people so he doesn’t have to, so he doesn’t have their deaths weighing upon his soul. I don’t want that for him, but there’s no time for that. I can’t save him from this.

  “Don’t wait, shoot them!”

  On key, as soon as the words come out of my mouth, the man wi
th the scar lunges. Ian fires a shot, hitting the dirt at the man’s feet. He stops at the tracks, but the rest of the Swamp people continue moving, leaping over the train tracks right towards us.

  “Run, Andie!” Ian yells to me.

  The Guardians growl and snarl before leaping into the row of men that run at us. I watch as one lunges for the neck of one of the swamp people, tearing out a bloodied chunk of skin. The man drops to the ground, lifeless. The Guardians continue, leaping and attacking. One gives a loud yelp as it is cut by one of the attackers. I hear Ian shoot and watch as two of the men go down. I take a few steps back, and notice one of the men headed straight for me. I reach back and throw the rock at him as hard as I can. It makes contact with his shoulder, skimming off the man’s clothing and barely stopping him. He slows, but doesn’t stop. I grip the stick, thinking that maybe I could jab it in his eye. As I get ready, another gunshot rings through the crowd, leaving a hole in the head of the man who was running at me. I turn to Ian, who lets out the last of his bullets.

  The Guardians growl at a cluster of the Swamp people who remain on the other side of the tracks, apparently afraid of the large dogs. There are at least five bodies and the man with the scar has yet to move.

  “Yer outta bullets,” the man with the scar taunts.

  Ian flips the handgun in his hand, grasping the barrel. The man with the scar starts running towards Ian. And without thinking, I run at them both, throwing myself onto the man. Ian reaches out, hitting him in the side of the head with the butt of the gun. Someone pulls me off of the man with the scar. I can tell by the smell, pungent and sour like rotting meat, it’s one of the Swamp people, either escaped from the Guardians or his injuries were slight enough for him to get off the ground.

  I kick at him as he grips me around the waist, dragging me across the tracks, the whole time watching the scene of Ian fighting with the man with the scar. Ian hits him with the butt of the gun, until the man slaps it out of his hand. And then there is scuffling, the dirt by the tracks fills the air. I hear the sounds of punching, groans, bone hitting bone. Ian yells. The man with the scar fights with an eerie muteness.

  The man behind me moves his arm across my neck. He talks into my ear, his rotten breath sliding over my face, “Don’ have much ladies in our company.” He laughs as I try to elbow him in the sides, unsuccessfully. “Oh! Oh, wait!” The man tightens his grip on my neck, and squeezing my face, he turns me to watch across the tracks from where he has just dragged me. “Dis de best part.”