The Phoenix Trilogy (Book 1): World On Fire

by Scottie, Charles

  Hall after hall passed as they crept as swiftly as they dared. Natalie couldn't tell where they were headed, but BJ moved with a purpose that gave her confidence. More than once, the screams of angry undead came uncomfortably close, and they were forced to take a different path. Their progress wasn't pretty, but it was constant. They'd be home free, soon.

  All at once, the horrific baying stopped. BJ froze, his head cocked as if he were straining to pick up on anything that might explain what just happened. Or what is about to happen... Natalie's hair was on end, and a prickling sensation spreading across her skin gave her a very bad feeling.

  Yet there was nothing. Whatever had caused the zombies to stop their caterwauling didn't seem to be doing anything more. Natalie recalled one of the walkers from the other day doing something similar. It had paused its hunt and gone quiet after she'd accidentally gotten its attention. Maybe this was something similar?

  Except the horde had been too large for that. Maybe a handful would have been distracted, but there wasn't any noise loud enough to simultaneously stop an entire mob of corpses cold in their tracks. If there had been, Natalie and the others would have heard it too.

  This was different, new, and that was more dangerous than anything else. If they couldn't at least predict the behaviors of their adversaries, then they were more likely to be killed. The exact opposite of Natalie's previous game plan.

  With the world around them returned to silence, their progress was momentarily stunted. Any sound they made now would likely be their last, and they no longer had any warning to indicate where their pursuers may be hiding.

  In the end, they had no choice; they had to continue. The carpeted floors did wonders to muffle their footsteps, and Natalie was thankful for that. While it was true that that same boon applied to the undead, the pack of corpses was less likely to attempt to utilize stealth over brute force. Or at least, Natalie hoped that was the case.

  Whatever bizarre turn of events had struck had also shaken Natalie's knowledge of her opponents. Every corner they took left an ever growing pit of confusion in her stomach. She knew they were in the building with her, but it felt as if they had simply disappeared. It was impossible, but a wry voice in Natalie’s head reminded her that zombies were supposed to be impossible, too. Left with no other certainty, Natalie prepared herself for the inevitable worst.

  After several tense minutes of slow and steady headway, BJ's course of action finally bore fruit; they were standing at the entrance into the main foyer. It felt almost too good to be true, but the room was empty and Natalie could see the street again through the windows. They were almost back on course, and while they had more than a few obstacles to overcome ahead of them, any success was welcome.

  Natalie's burgeoning hope was meeting heavy resistance as she felt a greater sense of unease wash over her. There was no cause for her gloom, at least as far as she could tell, though every instinct in her body was screaming that something was wrong. She'd have acted on those feelings if there was any indicator to the cause, but the room was silent. Empty.

  Natalie wasn't alone in her eerie paranoia. BJ meticulously scanned and re-scanned their surroundings while Rico just kept shaking his head, as if repeating a mental mantra expressing his distaste for their predicament. Marco remained expressionless, his eyes unfocused as he plod along behind them.

  With every step forward carrying the feeling of sudden death, Natalie found herself fighting an increasingly powerful demand to sprint for the doors. Anything that would get her out and away from this place as quickly as possible, even if that meant running directly into another bad situation.

  The fear was mounting to an absurd degree, but any part of Natalie that might have recognized that had long since fallen to the wayside. They had made it over halfway through the room, a relatively small area made much larger by their slow progress, and there had been no further sign of their enemies. All that remained were a few more steps, seemingly the only obstacle between them and the outside world.

  In near disbelief, BJ reached out to touch the door handle. It was almost like a dream. After everything that had gone wrong, to have this one incident resolve without any extra complications was unbelievable. Gently pushing against it, the gateway eased open quietly and without protest. They were out.

  Immediately, Natalie began to take great heaving breaths. Her whole body was shaking, her mind locked on the practically tangible dread they'd left behind. It was still so close, close enough that they should be moving far away, but the ability to breathe without feeling it suffocate her was a blessing she couldn't ignore.

  Natalie didn't make a sound as BJ pulled her aside, keeping her from standing directly in front of the sunlit doorway like a gleaming fast-food sign. He allowed her a minute to recover, though she guessed they all needed a brief reprieve.

  Rico was shivering much as Natalie had been, albeit not nearly as bad. He had some glistening substance on his chest and arm that she realized must have come off of a walker. That it had left residue on him told her that he had nearly been killed, and Natalie felt a twinge of guilt. She knew that his close call had likely happened after he pushed her ahead when they first entered the office. While she recognized that it was his job to protect her, that didn't make her feel any better.

  Marco was the only member she hadn't brought herself to look at, and a great deal of the reason why was because she didn't think she'd like what she found. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, but he wasn't moving much. BJ and Rico were both silent but observant, their attention to the surroundings obvious in spite of their reserved attitudes.

  What Natalie saw from Marco was a different kind of stillness. The others had a flame in their bellies, roaring louder now that they were once more back on track. Marco's fire was out, choked down by the injury he had sustained. In the light, Natalie could see it better, though that didn't offer her much reassurance.

  Several lines of dark red had been drawn over the back of his neck, caught perfectly alongside where the strap of his pack would have rested against his shoulder. It was obviously painful, but worse, it looked unclean. Her mind racing with possibilities, Natalie did her best to not jump to conclusions. They would have time to do more than a cursory checkup of his wounds soon. Natalie continued to tell herself things were going to be okay, using all of her willpower to ignore the fact that Marco's cuts looked remarkably like scratch marks.

  Before long, Natalie's heart began to settle. Or rather, it stopped feeling like she was about to go into cardiac arrest, which she suspected might be the best she could expect from the situation. Granting BJ a weary nod to confirm she was ready to move, he returned the gesture before turning to continue on.

  The waning daylight shining between buildings reminded Natalie of the time. With all of the commotion from the gas station, and then the pursuit through the office, she had completely lost track of the hours that had passed. It was hard to believe it had all been the same day. Was it still the same day? Her nap at the gas station threw her off, feeling as though she had started a new morning, but...

  Natalie blinked heavily and tried to recall everything that had happened in an effort to piece together a timeline, but her brain refused to comply. All the shock and trauma had already started to blur together, her memories growing fuzzy as her mind tried to shield her from remembering events better left forgotten.

  In the end, she gave up. Natalie didn't need to worry about the past when the future was already so precarious. She wasn't certain how BJ would feel about traveling at night, but she assumed he would be opposed. Anything that cut down on vision was likely to be considered a bad thing.

  True to her expectations, BJ flagged their attention before pointing out a nearby apartment building. Another knot in her stomach, and Natalie was already leery of any more indoor exploration. Still, the others were set on their course, so it appeared she'd just have to make the best of it.

  As usual, BJ and Rico scoped out the entrance while M
arco brought up the rear. It wasn't until Natalie bothered to look back down the road they'd come from that she realized what was wrong.

  There were people in the street. Zombie or otherwise, she couldn't tell, but she could see their outlines shifting in the growing dark. Marco should have warned them, but his attention had wavered in light of the coming events. If his lax duty hadn't put their lives at risk, Natalie might have been more understanding.

  “Guys, there’s bodies. Or people, something, shit, behind us.” The words were jumpy and unclear, but Natalie couldn't help herself. This was a little too familiar a feeling, and she didn't think they'd be able to escape death again so easily. It was a testament to her unease that she didn't laugh at her own implication that surviving the horde earlier had been simple.

  The men wasted no time, first bolting upright to confirm Natalie's warning before snapping back to the task at hand. Whether they were satisfied with their safety or not, Natalie wasn't sure, but they gave a nearly immediate all-clear before heading inside.

  With purpose that suggested this wasn't their first time in the building, BJ and Rico moved past a dozen closed apartment doors on the ground floor before stopping abruptly. There was a single open door ahead of them, and the look of alarm in BJ's eyes told Natalie that was a very bad thing.

  Another step forward brought a squelch from beneath Natalie's foot, as well as a morbid epiphany: this wasn't old blood. She had been so accustomed to gore being everywhere underfoot that she hadn't realized how fresh it really was inside the building. Whatever had happened that had BJ so on edge, it took place recently. Another bad sign to throw on the pile.

  BJ approached the door in a deep crouch that looked more suitable for lunging than for sneaking. One hand held his axe, while the other was empty and ready for grabbing. Natalie was reminded that this was a scary man when he chose to be.

  No time was spent on hand signals or formation. BJ poked his head into the room for a second before going inside, and a surprised Rico had to scramble to follow. Natalie opted to remain outside, no longer trusting Marco's state of mind. Somebody had to maintain one eye on their flank, and she didn't guess that it would take more than two people to clear the apartment.

  The room behind her was silent, and Natalie took that for a good thing. They were well away from the entrance to the building, so unless zombies spontaneously took to pouring out of the rooms around them, they should be fine. At least, as fine as anybody was during the end of days.

  Rico was the first to come back into the hallway, and he waved Natalie and Marco inside. He had pulled his mouth wrap down, his face revealing a mix of anger and deep sadness. It was not a look he seemed accustomed to, and certainly not one Natalie liked seeing. She found herself uncertain of if she really wanted to know what had gone wrong here, but as she walked inside, she found many of her questions answered.

  This had been an apartment once, but it was hard to see it that way now. To Natalie's eyes, it looked more like an armory. Rico closed the door behind them, revealing countless braces and crossbars reinforcing it. It even had a runner along the bottom to dampen noise made inside.

  The sole window in the room matched the door, strengthened well beyond what any sane person would consider rational and completely covering the opening. The room would have been devoid of light, but BJ had already turned on a heavy-duty portable lamp. It seemed the runner on the door doubled as a light blocker, as well.

  Numerous empty gun racks covered the walls, one section of floor was filled with gory sleeping bags that screamed military-issue, and there were more empty ammo boxes than Natalie could count.

  In the middle of it all stood BJ, his mouth set in a deep line as he studied the blood spatter that splashed across everything from floor to ceiling. He allowed himself a heavy sigh, his eyes closing as he shook his head. He looked as if he was about to speak when Marco abruptly broke the quiet.

  “I think I'm infected.” The words came out higher than usual, his cracking tone contradicting the bold bluntness of his statement. Natalie's eyes darted to Rico, unsure of what to expect. Just as he seemed to comprehend what his young cousin had confessed, Marco continued.

  “I don't know how or when it happened. I didn't even realize I was hurt until Nat touched me.” His gaze briefly turned to Natalie before falling to the ground in front of him. Seemingly at a loss for words, he turned away from the others before slowly removing his shirt with shaking hands.

  Rico let out a short gasp as he saw the furrows carved in Marco's skin. Natalie couldn't blame him; the wound wasn't pretty. Even in the short amount of time that had passed since she saw it last, it seemed to be an angrier shade of red. That didn't bode well for Marco, and Natalie felt a pang of sadness.

  The obvious pain and confusion on Rico's face only seemed to be growing, his words choking off before they were fully formed. Marco had turned back to the group, his shirt hanging limply in one hand as he refused to take his gaze off the floor. Only BJ remained collected, briskly approaching Marco to examine the injury further.

  “Before you go talking about making a heroic sacrifice or some other horseshit, let's be clear: we don't know how you were wounded, so we can't confirm your condition. The new game plan is we're going to sit tight until morning. If you're infected, you'll be showing signs by then.” BJ's words were stated like matters of fact, as devoid of emotion as anything Natalie had heard from him yet.

  It would have seemed callous if Natalie didn't know better. BJ had one hand firm on Marco's good shoulder, refusing to let him drop his gaze from BJ's own fierce eyes. It was a show of support, and though he had given no sympathy, his gruff approach to the matter had made it easier to view it from a detached perspective. They all knew what risks were on the table; worrying themselves into a stupor over it was just a waste of time and energy.

  “Think back, cuz. Is there anything you can give us? Natalie, what about you? Marco was behind me the whole time, I never had a chance to see what was happening.” Rico had composed himself, opting to refrain from examining his cousin's wounds with his own eyes. His words were clear and calm, only showing a note of the worry for his family that must be overwhelming his heart.

  Natalie did her best to think back as Marco told the others how he realized he was hurt. Scouring her brain for anything that might be worthwhile, she found she had little to work with. Marco had been behind her for nearly everything, after all. It wasn't until she tuned back in to the conversation that she felt an idea begin to form.

  “...swear they never touched me. Not this bad, not enough to get in so deep.” Marco was shaking his head in disbelief as he spoke, trying to come to terms with how any of this could have been possible. Feeling a glimmer of hope, Natalie held no guilt for silently thinking that this near-death experience might take the cocky faux action hero down a peg.

  “I don't think they did, Marco. You had to have been hurt sometime after we got spotted in the street, but before we made it into the office, right? During the adrenaline high of escaping an angry mob?” She had the attention of the room, and though she had no way to confirm her suspicions, Natalie felt confident that she was on to something.

  “When we were running, you got ahead of me for a little while, remember? I saw a deadhead break a door right next to you, one of those ones with the heavy window panes in it. You were only inches away when he hit the glass. I mean Christ, the poor bastard wound up looking like he put his hands through a wood chipper, so it'd make sense if some of the glass he blew out would have cut you.” Natalie paused for a moment to let her words sink in, and she could see the men processing what she said.

  It wasn't a perfect theory, and even if she were right, Marco still ran the chance of being infected. Either way, it was better than what they'd had, regardless of its flaws. Natalie noticed BJ's look of doubt, and realized he was about to point out issues in her logic. She decided to take it as another opportunity to prove herself, instead.

  “I know he could be screwed an
yway. The zombie might have transferred blood to the glass and then into him,” Natalie felt a brief sting of guilt as she realized she was talking so casually about Marco's life, as if he weren't in the room with her, “or maybe the glass was already covered in something gnarly in the first place.”

  Her choice of words once again brought a small redness to her cheeks. Rationalizing her own defense, she had been closer to saying “icky” than “gnarly,” so she was content with calling it an improvement. The others didn't seem to notice, and BJ had resumed his thoughtful stance.

  “All I'm saying is, if he, you-” Natalie bit down a growl at her own fumbling, trying to be at least a little less dismissive of Marco's presence, “if Marco was scratched directly, we wouldn't have any hope here. Infection would be basically guaranteed. So I mean, if we've got to choose between something with 100% certainty to live with for a little while versus something with 80% certainty, it's a better deal, isn't it?”

  Natalie wasn't generally one for relying on hope and well-wishing to make a situation brighter, but considering that they had time to kill while they waited to see if Marco's condition changed, it seemed like a reasonable comfort to pursue. It was a seed that looked to have taken root in Rico, but Marco was as dejected as ever.

  BJ was mulling her suggestion of events over, but he appeared to be satisfied. “We'll bunk here for the night. Answers will come in the morning. I'll take first watch. Marco, you're off-duty for the night. Natalie, you'll take his place.”

  Natalie couldn't tell if being promoted to watch duty was good or bad, but she decided to take it as a compliment rather than a necessity. She expected some kind of retort from Marco, but he sidled off to a relatively clean patch of floor to lay down his mat without a word. His silence was a greater indicator of how poorly he was doing than anything else.

  Rico moved to join him, whispering quiet words of support along the way. For his part, Marco seemed appreciative of his cousin's efforts. He was an insufferable ass, true, but he loved his family.