Little Phoenix (The Census Book 1)

by Willow Dean

  The mangled steel shell and the muddy floor through the broken windshield are the only things visible in my spotted vision. The car is obviously on its roof and the only thing keeping me in my seat is my seatbelt.

  Unbuckling it, I immediately regret my rash decision as I fall in an agonizing heap straight on top of Mum.

  Apologizing, I gently move her to the side and leave her in the most comfortable position I can manage, whilst leaving enough space for me to get out through the passenger side window.

  Once she’s settled, I gently close her eyes and drop one last kiss on her forehead before lifting myself up -or at least as much as I can in a crumpled overturned car- and assess my surroundings.

  Everything is silent apart from the hiss of steam and groaning of metal. The tangy scents of copper and oil tease my senses, causing urgency to spike in my veins.

  I need to get us all out of here before a fire starts or we’ll all be toast. Literally.

  It’s a given that both Dad and Gem are going to have injuries, whether they are minor or vital is yet to be seen. It doesn’t change the fact that I need to act fast though.

  Gem is just important to me as Dad is, but I’m going to need his guidance and expertise if we want to get out of here alive.

  It’s difficult, but I make peace with the plan that develops in my head. Even if it makes me a terrible friend.

  Still held in place by his seatbelt, Dad simply hangs there murmuring gently as he starts to come too.

  “Dad?” My voice falters, coming out cracked and scratchy. Clearing my throat, I try again. This time, resting my hand firmly on his cheek. “Dad, can you hear me? I need you to wake up for me.”

  “Mila?”

  My heart stutters as tears pool in my eyes. “Yeah, Dad. It’s me. I need you to wake up for me and help me get you down. I can unhook your seatbelt, but I won’t be able to carry you.”

  “There’s no time, Mila. You need to get out of here. Leave us and run. They’re coming for you,” he slurs groggily.

  “Who’s coming for me? What are you talking about?” I shake my head. Refusing to hear what he has to say. “You know what, it doesn’t even matter. You know how stubborn I am and I’m not leaving here without you. Now save your breath and help me out!”

  I reach for his belt, hesitating as I hear voices in the distance. Dad’s eyes suddenly spring wide open in alarm.

  All of his previous grogginess disappears as he becomes frantic, desperately trying to stop me and push me away at the same time. I fumble with his hands as I fight with him to get at his seatbelt.

  “Stop, Dad! What are you doing?!” I hiss. Frustrated, I look up at him, and for the first time in my life, I see true fear in his eyes. His actions become stronger and more forceful as the voices start to close in on us.

  “Mila, leave me and run baby!” He whispers urgently. “Please! You have to get out of here. Please trust me, they can’t find you. You need to leave right now. Go straight to Rick Torres and ask for Lachlan. He will tell you everything. He will keep you safe. Please!” He begs me, all signs of his previous weakness gone.

  Fuck that!

  If these people are even half as terrifying as he makes them out to be, then there’s no way in the nine circles of hell that I’m going to leave him to deal with them alone.

  Despite his best efforts to shove me away, I grasp his face and fix him with a defiant glare.

  “Dad, listen to me! No one is taking me away from you. Nothing could ever hurt me more than seeing my mother shot dead. I am staying right here, with you. We are going to free you and then go home. Together. Alright?! No arguments, ya hear me?! Now do as I say and help me,” I plead.

  A single tear slips free as he runs a gentle hand down my face. Stroking my cheek sweetly, he smiles a bittersweet smile.

  “My dear Pumpkin, you have no idea how strong and capable you are. You have made your mother and I so proud. I’m sorry that we didn’t tell you about everything sooner. When you get out of here, and you will get out of here, find your way to Lachlan Torres and he will explain everything.

  “No matter what happens, remember that there is good in everyone until proven otherwise. Your strengths are your skills. Your weaknesses are your power. Never give up, no matter how bad the odds. Make sure to stand up for what you believe in and don’t ever let anything get in the way of that.”

  Tears stream down my face as he finishes in a weak and feeble voice. “Promise me, Pumpkin. Whatever happens, you will live. Live for us.”

  “I love you, Dad. I promise, I will stay strong and you will be there to see it. Now come on, help a weak Little Pumpkin out!” I squeak hopelessly. My voice cracking with the pain and sadness of everything that’s happened.

  There’s no way that I am leaving him and Gem here, and I sure as hell am not taking no for an answer. He seems to know that too as he doesn’t even try to stop me this time when I reach for the clasp on his seatbelt.

  Even as the voices outside grow louder and harsher with each passing second, I push them to the back of my mind and concentrate on getting him free.

  Struggling, I give one last harsh tug that finally frees him from his confines. He drops to the now ceiling of the car with a grunt, just as someone grabs my ankle and drags me backwards, straight through the shattered window.

  I cry out in pain as the glass scores lines into my stomach and chest. Kicking out, I try to dislodge their grip but it’s no use.

  There’s nothing for me to grab onto that will help me either. The only thing I can do is pathetically dig my fingertips into the forest floor in protest as they pull me clear out of the car.

  My attempts to dislodge them grow more and more forceful as my space to work increases. That is, until a boot stamps down the back of my neck.

  “Mila!” Dad roars. At his tortured cry, I look up as much as I am able to, watching helplessly as he tries desperately to free himself from the wreckage to get to me.

  Anguish and dread cascades over his features as we both realize just how futile his attempts are. One of his legs is trapped by debris, and without outside help, he’s going nowhere.

  From my position on the ground, I can now make out Gem’s pale figure, hanging limp and lifeless in the confines of her seatbelt. My chest constricts as I can’t even tell whether she’s breathing or not.

  The boot is lifted off my neck only for a knee, and the full weight of the man behind it, to drop unceremoniously into the middle of my back.

  I scream out in pain, digging my nails further into the dirt floor as the added mass puts extra pressure on the ribs that I’m pretty sure are already broken. Making it even more difficult to breathe.

  Black spots dance across my vision. I try to fight the pull of unconsciousness until it all becomes too much.

  Agony ricochets over my abdomen and chest like a pinball machine, draining the life out of me one hit at a time. The lack of oxygen doesn’t exactly help much either.

  Too tired and weak to fight back, I let my head drop to the floor as exhaustion overcomes me. Glancing up at Dad one last time, I mouth what I’m sure will be my final words to him.

  I’m sorry.

  Anger flushes his skin and he looks like he would tear the world apart if he could. Just to get to me. He screams something as his face contorts into terror and despair, but I can’t hear a word he says through the ringing in my ears.

  Just as my vision starts to tunnel, a set of boots comes into view before the owner drops to a knee in front of me.

  Pinned to the floor, lost in flurries of pain and exhaustion, I don’t even wince when someone grabs my hair and yanks my head up. The pain in my scalp doesn’t even compare to that of the liquid fire that now engulfs my rib cage. Never mind the rest of my injuries.

  The man in front of me, if you could even call him human, is a gigantic monstrosity. He looks a little like that guy from the goonies, except infinitesimally uglier and downright ominous.

  A short brown buzz cut frames his gro
tesque face. One of his eyes is nearly completely white and has a jagged scar running through it, whilst the other is such a deep brown that it appears almost black. Missing a few teeth, with more than a few golden caps interspaced between the remaining ones, he delivers a grim smile my way.

  The black army fatigues and combat boots on his nearly seven-foot frame fit his menacing aura perfectly. The huge machete secured to his hip only adds to the overall effect.

  Besides the overly sharp mafia prop, the only things he carries are a set of steel wrist restraints and a couple of what appears to be grenades. Both of which are strapped across his chest and make him look like a twisted version of Rambo.

  All in all, it seems as though he’s trying out for the pantomime villain of the year. Honestly, he looks more like an evil, beefed up action man.

  Reaching down with fingerless gloves, he grips my chin and tilts my head up at an almost impossible angle. His nails are vile and filthy and it pains me not to be able to cringe away in disgust.

  He says something to me, but it’s lost to the void of blood loss and agony that’s already consumed me. Smiling cruelly, he runs his slimy tongue along his front teeth and glances back behind him. Seemingly taunting Dad with a smug smile and a few words before turning back and laughing in my face.

  By his amusement, I would guess that he said something demeaning or unpleasant that should have had me cowering in some way. Even if I had heard him in the first place, I wouldn’t have reacted anyway, if only to prevent him from gaining any satisfaction.

  Resigned to my fate, I regard him with an expressionless gaze and watch as his joy falters. Getting right up in my face, leaving barely an inch of breathing room, it’s blatantly obvious that he isn’t happy with the lack of effect he has on me.

  He’s a brute. Pure and simple.

  Irrespective of what he is, if I find out he had anything to do with my mother’s death, then I will tear him limb from limb. No fuck’s given.

  Scratch that. They’ll all die for the pain they have put me and my family through.

  Anger and adrenaline lights my veins on fire at the thought of those now dull blue orbs. The feeling of liquid lighting thrums through my veins and coaxes my senses to clear.

  Breathing no longer hurts and oxygen is so much easier to find. The rest of my injuries are eventually forgotten as my vision brightens and the ringing in my ears begins to subside.

  Little by little, my hearing returns enough for me to hear the grimy and harsh rasp to his voice.

  “-ke the girl and leave no trace of the others. Burn them aliv-”

  Hell no!

  Screaming out in rage, I kick out with renewed fervor to dislodge the guy on top of me. No way am I going to stand by and watch them burn the rest of my family alive.

  We’ve already lost one too many members. I won’t let them take any more!

  The monstrosity in front of me chortles manically, taking pleasure in my struggles. I don’t even feel a twinge of pain when the guy restraining me drives his knee harder into my back, depressing my already screaming ribs even further.

  At least no one moves to undertake his orders. I don’t know how many more people he has with him, but I can’t see anyone moving towards the car. So that’s one win, so far.

  The harsh laughter stops abruptly, the silence eerie as he moves his face to within an inch of mine. Opening his mouth to speak, I do what all self-respectable people do.

  I spit straight into his goddamn vile face.

  Maybe that is what most respectable people do, but it certainly isn’t what most self-preserving people do, Mila. It really isn’t the best idea to rile a beast.

  The scar on his face puckers unpleasantly as his face distorts in a murderous rage.

  Oh, boy.

  The weight on my back pulls away so unexpectedly that it takes me a second to realize I’m free before I’m pushing up off the floor to try to stand.

  Of course, Meat Man here has other ideas.

  Wrapping his meaty paw around my throat, he lifts me like I’m nothing more than a child’s doll. At least half a meter off the floor with my feet dangling helplessly in the air, I clutch at his hand, trying to alleviate the pressure so that I can at least draw a breath in.

  “You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” He growls, pulling me in even closer. “Unfortunately, Pluto had very strict orders. You are to be captured alive and taken straight to him.” A cruel glint forms in his eyes as he watches me struggle in his grip.

  “He didn’t however, say anything about what state you were to reach him in. As long as you’re breathing, he doesn’t give a monkey’s ass about what happens to you. Lucky for me, I may have just found myself a nice little play toy,” he drawls, licking his lips.

  It’s so gross. I swear there’s even a string of drool, dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

  Ignoring the disgusting abomination in front of me, I let my gaze wander back to the car where Dad renews his efforts to get free.

  Even as pale as a sheet, with sweat dripping down his forehead, he never once stops his efforts at trying to reach me. Knowing him, he won’t ever give up until the last breath leaves his body.

  So I won’t either.

  Smoke begins to gather in front of the wreckage, obscuring my view. Still, the sounds of him huffing and panting as he tries to break free of the wreckage reaches my ears. I let them fall to the back of my mind as I concentrate on the eyesore in front of me.

  I bet his mother’s proud.

  I shudder at the thought of giving birth to something as revolting as that. I think I’d die from a heart attack, he is that putrid.

  Taking a deep breath, or at least as deep as I can with this bastard restricting my airflow, I allow myself to relax. Ceasing my struggle, I maximize the use of the oxygen currently circulating throughout my body to clear my thoughts and plan my next move.

  First and foremost, I need to get myself free and away from him before I can turn my focus on getting them out of the wreckage. Maybe I can use the wreckage to put some distance between us?

  A plan springs to my mind. Acting fast before I pass out, I grab his thumb and twist it backwards to break his hold on my throat as I bring my knee up to his groin and thrust my elbow towards his temple.

  Luckily, he’s not immune to a bit of pussy pain, as I like to call it. My shots cause him to release his grip on me as he doubles over clutching his crotch.

  I drop to the floor in a crouch and immediately get up and dead sprint towards the car. It’s hard to tell how close I am because of the smoke, but I can just about make out the wreckage when I’m catapulted backwards.

  Landing in a heap at the base of a tree nearly twenty meters away, ears ringing and heart thumping wildly, I lay still for a while. Trying to make sense of where I am and what in the hell just happened.

  My ears ring wildly, sounds of static and other tinny noises permeating the shrill noise every now and then. The longer I lay here, the harder my anxiety rides me and still, nothing makes sense.

  It’s not until the smell of fresh smoke and charred flesh permeates the air that everything slots into place.

  No. No. No! Please, tell me I’m wrong. Tell me this is all one gigantic nightmare!

  I know I have to face what’s in front of me, but I just can’t bring myself to lift my head. If I can’t see it, it isn’t real. Right?

  If I look, I’ll no longer have a safety blanket to hide behind. No one will be there to catch me when I fall.

  No one will be there to put the pieces back together when my heart is shattered into a million fragments, leaving me bleeding and bare for the cruel world to feast its eyes upon.

  Get up, Mila. You promised. You can’t give up. Dad didn’t. Dad never gave up. Get up. Get up and move. Get up and live!

  Inspecting the dirt in front of me, I barely register the voices off in the distance. Some are quiet and concerned. Others are loud and angry.

  I can’t go anywhere just yet though. I ne
ed to check. I need to confirm it with my own eyes.

  I don’t want to, but I have to. I have no choice. I have to make sure it is real. Make sure that there really is nothing else that I can do.

  There is a small chance that they are still alive, and if they are, it means I can’t just up and leave. It would mean abandoning my family, when I’m the only person that could help them.

  With great difficulty, I manage to push myself up off the ground. Battered and bruised from head to toe, I somehow manage to stand on shaky legs. I know I’ll heal. I just hope they can too.

  All of that hope disappears when the smokescreen scatters. Getting a good look of where the car once stood, I realize how futile my wishes are.

  Nothing but a ball of fire and warped metal remains. My heart stops at the sight as tears stream down my face and wracking sobs overwhelm me.

  Gone. They are all gone.

  Fury ignites my veins and I scream at the world, at the injustice of it all. I spin around to look for his grotesque face but there’s no one.

  I’m alone.

  But not for long.

  Moving in the opposite direction to the quieter voices that continue to get closer, I make it all of five steps before he finds me.

  Perfect.

  A large forearm grips me around my waist, pinning my hands to my sides as he pulls me back, flush against his chest. I know how to get out of this hold, but I don’t bother trying.

  Despite the anger and the thirst for revenge that burns through my system, I know the second that he grabbed ahold of me that I wouldn’t be able to inflict even an iota of damage.

  My mind and knowledge is present, but my body isn’t.

  Broken, beaten and crushed, I’m in no condition to even attempt to overpower him. I’ve lost too much blood from the multiple lacerations that line my body and I’m far too physically and mentally exhausted to be of any use as anything other than a chew toy to be thrown around.

  Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try though.

  Thrashing around like a lunatic, I wail and scream to my heart's content, allowing my grief an outlet. Maybe there’s someone close enough nearby that will hear my pleas, although I’m not holding out much hope.