The Phoenix Curse (Book 2): After

by D. R. Johnson

  After

  Part Two

  Book one of

  The Phoenix Curse

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  By D. R. Johnson

  Copyright 2012 by D. R. Johnson

  Cover design and artwork by Debra Johnson

  http://drjpublishing.blogspot.com

  Copyright © 2012 D. R. Johnson

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author, except where permitted by law. For information or to obtain permission, contact Deborah Johnson, Grand Prairie, Texas. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  DEDICATION

  For Sierra, my lovely daughter, who helped me find something I lost long ago.

  My inspiration.

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 – Joss

  Chapter 2 – Ali

  Chapter 3 – Joss

  Chapter 4 – Ali

  Chapter 5 – Joss

  Chapter 6 – Ali

  Chapter 7 – Joss

  Chapter 8 – Ali

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  PROLOGUE

  Shrouded by shadows, the old woman sat against the wall in the dingy hotel kitchen. She muttered to herself, occasionally pulling at the matted tangles of her hair with no intention of freeing any of the strands. It was simply a nervous habit. Her hair hadn't seen a brush in years.

  Fear pressed her back into the shadows, as it so often did, but time was growing short and she knew she would have to call someone's attention to her problem. She had to get dinner on soon, or there would be hell to pay if it was delayed.

  Finally, fear of punishment over a late forced her into action, and she shuffled to the big stove in the center of the room. Grabbing the dented, half-washed stew pot, she banged it against the steel stove, hoping the clamor would catch someone's attention.

  No one came.

  Mona let out a long, whiny wheeze from deep in her throat, the only sound she still allowed herself to make to show her agitation. All other signs of protest had long since been beaten out of her.

  "Ben!" She croaked out the name, her hoarse voice not any louder than her previous pot banging. She was just getting started. Sucking in a deep breath, she called out again, achieving more volume this time. "Ben!"

  Footsteps.

  She cringed. The blood drained from her face and she had to grasp the stove to keep from falling over. The footsteps weren't the slow, limping plod of Old Ben's. They were the high-pitched clack, clack, clack of well-worn, steel-toed cowboy boots. Those footsteps could only belong to one person. Nausea gripped her stomach as they announced his impending arrival.

  Reed.

  He paused in the doorway, scowling at her with his one glittering green eye. Panic would drag her to the abyss if he decided to punish her today. It wouldn't be the first time she fainted.

  "What?" He barked, finally.

  Mona swallowed quickly, trying to wet her dry throat so she could answer. Not wanting to make him wait, she forced each word out in a croak. "The gas is out again."

  Silence. She waited anxiously for his reaction, wondering if he would think this worthy of a beating or if he would move on. She held on to one hope, the same that had saved her in the past. If she was beaten too badly, there would be no one to fix the men their supper.

  Her luck held as he glowered at her for a few more seconds, finally spinning on his heel to clack, clack, clack back down the hall. His deep voice rumbled through the walls a moment later as he barked orders to his men.

  Mona exhaled slowly and waited for the strength to flow back into her limbs. Reed was always around but she hadn't had a direct confrontation with him for a couple weeks. It was a ridiculous notion to hope he had forgotten about her, but it was still a shock to have him answer her call today. She still had one emotion she could cling to, one they couldn't beat out of her.

  Hate.

  And she hated that man. If only she had it in her to do anything about it.

  Already long past her prime when the demons took over the world, Mona had thought herself lucky to find a place here in this hotel. She thought it was safe. For a while it was, but gradually that ended. It was no longer the haven it used to be. Far from it. Now, when the men spoke of supply runs, it was more often than not a reference to taking more women hostage.

  Mona couldn't escape. She was old and her body broken. Survival outside the protective walls of the hotel was nil. She was painfully aware of that, and so were the men that held the women and children captive. That is why she remained unguarded. She prepared all the meals and knew that was the extent of her value. Once that ceased, so would her life. She was sure of it.

  Gathering the set of smaller plates, Mona began to ready the lunches for the women. She set out seventeen plates, and fetched the potatoes and goat cheese to slop out their small portions. She was meticulously covering the plates and balancing them on the three-shelved rolling cart when the clacking footsteps warned her Reed was returning.

  Mona turned towards the door, awaiting him. This time she was more prepared for his arrival and was determined to stand on her own without the aid of the stove.

  "Russell killed another one." He grunted as he strode in.

  Mona swallowed hard and tried to mask the quiver in her voice. "Which one?"

  His voice was gruff and emotionless as he snapped back at her. "Does it matter? Clean it up. Room 108."

  Mona nodded, knowing it was against her better interest to speak again. Reed fixed a glare on her that made her regret her decision to avoid cowering behind the protection of the stove.

  When he turned to leave, he grumbled over his shoulder. "The gas will be back on soon. Don't be late with dinner."

  Mona sagged, drained from her near miss as well as depressed about the loss of another girl. She never talked to them, never lingered in their rooms, but she knew them all. She kept a running tally in her head of all the women that had the misfortune of coming through here.

  Finished with loading the cart, Mona rolled it out into the hall, making her way to the women's wing. She would only need sixteen of those plates now. She also knew that her delay in getting someone to fix the gas had led to another meal delay; dinner for the kids upstairs. The supper for the men came first. The kids would have to wait until after Reed and his men were taken care of. It wouldn't be the first time.

  Mona rolled the cart around the corner and found Hawk standing guard. She felt somewhat relieved since Hawk wasn’t a hitter. His hazel eyes were expressionless as he turned to her, but he nodded his greeting just the same. Mona returned it, managing to keep the sneer off her face only as a matter of survival.

  His heavy hand banged on the door he was standing at. Room 101.

  "Food cart. Feed the girls!" He yelled against the door, and then turned back to Mona. "Room 108."

  Mona thought she saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes as he turned his head away from her. The flash was so quick, she could have imagined it. Every man here was a monster, and this one was no different.

  She gestured to the cart, saying, "I left the extra plate. It's yours if you want."<
br />
  Hawk nodded his thanks, reaching for one. His voice was low when he spoke. "Skip my stew for tonight. This will do for me."

  Mona wasn't able to stop her eyes from widening in disbelief. She knew there was no way those small portions would satisfy the man.

  Hawk caught her slip and shrugged. He responded, "Don't have much of an appetite today."

  Mona nodded, at least thankful that no food was going to waste.

  That ended their conversation. She continued down the hall, the door to 101 opening as she passed by. Crystal's caramel eyes glowered at her as Mona nodded a greeting. As she expected, Crystal ignored it. Instead, the dark woman turned a sly, slimy smile to Hawk.

  "Don't you want to spend a little time with me this afternoon, honey?" Crystal purred to the trim, muscular man as Mona continued walking away from them. She rolled her eyes at first, but then smirked to herself when she heard Hawk's clipped response.

  "Feed the girls."

  Crystal snorted but nothing else was spoken. Mona heard the food cart moving again and knew the other woman was doing her job as ordered.

  Crystal had been here nearly as long as Mona had. She had been a hardened, scarred woman in Vegas before the world went mad. Despite her age, she was able to apply her trade with Reed's men in order to win her life. Because she had come willingly, she was the closest thing to a non-prisoner out of all the women here.

  Mona didn't judge her for that; she knew it was a smart move to ensure her continued survival. It was her attitude that Mona didn’t much care for. Crystal kept herself apart from the other women, the prisoners, and she gave the distinct impression that she thought she was better than everyone else. Mona found it distasteful, but she would take her opinion to the grave.

  The number 108 loomed before her and Mona steadied her resolve, preparing herself for the scene that would greet her once she opened the door. Russell was a monster, a very creative monster. She hoped Reed would get him under control before he killed anymore of the women, but she knew that was a far-fetched hope.

  At one point, there had been forty girls captive. They had outnumbered the men. Then Reed allowed Russell to cull the herd, so to speak. Every now and then, the men would capture some more women to fill those empty rooms and the numbers would rise, but inevitably fall again. Not all the women were killed by Russell's hands. Some were killed trying to escape, and some actually made it out. Those lucky few were probably killed by the demons outside. Mona figured that was the better fate.

  The numbers had dwindled down so much lately that Mona really hoped Reed would put a stop to Russell's extracurricular activities. Every loss hurt.

  The door creaked as Mona slowly pushed it open. All the rooms had the same layout. The bathroom was just inside the door and the short hallway opened up to the bedroom area. The one big window in this room had been boarded up to prevent escape and the curtains were drawn.

  Muffled crying greeted the old woman.

  "Who's in here?" Mona's voice was gruff, impersonal. She knew better than to show the girls any emotion. Emotion could be turned against you in very creative ways. It was safer to not let the girls care for her, or to show them any in return.

  No reply came.

  The room was a dark cave with the curtains and boards blocking out the sun. Mona pulled out her matchbook and sparked a flame, lighting one of the small candles she always carried with her. Holding the candle before her, she revealed the source of the crying.

  Jennifer. She was the younger of two girls that had been hauled in from Primm a few weeks ago. Mona knew she was barely twenty years old, and the other girl wasn't much older. Jennifer was tied to the only chair in the room. Most of her clothing had been cut away. She had also been beaten badly, her face puffy and swollen, and the bruises were already forming.

  Seeing Jennifer in the chair, Mona knew who she would find in the bed.

  Holding the candle up high, Mona revealed the grotesque scene. The naked body of Jamie, Jennifer's sister, lay across the bed. Both her arms and legs were spread out and bound to the bed by a thick, coarse rope. She was tied down to the mattress on her stomach, but her dead eyes were staring straight up at the ceiling. At least this time, there wasn't much blood.

  As the light again showed Jennifer the body of her dead sister, her sobs renewed. Mona quickly lowered the candle, setting it on the dresser so she could release Jennifer from her bonds. Russell was good at knots and it took some work to get her untied. Once done, Mona struggled to drag the distraught woman out of the room.

  Pulling her into the hallway, Mona's eyes caught Crystal's unsympathetic gaze, who was still dolling out the food dishes. Then she found Hawk's hazel eyes staring her way. This time, she was sure she saw emotion there as he came to her aid. She passed the crying woman off to him without a word and turned back to room 108, her stomach twisting as she stepped back into the darkened room.

  After – Part Two

  The Phoenix Curse

  CHAPTER 1 – JOSS

  A chill swept through me, causing the hairs on my arms to stand up. It was followed by a wave of dizziness that threatened to push me down. I stared at the grass and dirt under the palms of my hands and swallowed the bile that had risen in my throat. Forcing back the panic, I focused on Ali, who was still down on all fours. The gun held to the back of her head had kept her frozen momentarily.

  Then her head snapped towards me, a defiant look in her eyes. She had a white-knuckled grip on her knife, even as the woman that held the gun on her pressed the tip harder against her skull. I knew Ali hadn't seen the other girl yet, nor the gun that was trained on me.

  A cold sweat broke out all over my body and my stomach twisted in knots. The girl shifted behind me, stepping out to the side directly into Ali's view. I could see Ali grinding her teeth together before she sighed, defeated, and released the hold on her knife.

  "Slowly, now." The older woman spoke, her voice raspy and harsh.

  Ali rose to her knees and lifted both hands above her head. I followed her lead but couldn't stop trembling.

  The older woman slowly circled around us, and I was finally able to get a good look at her. Her hair was matted and oily, like it hadn't been washed for days. That wasn't an uncommon look for drifters, although the blood caked to her shirt was. It looked fresh.

  I glanced at the girl that was holding the gun on me, seeing that she didn't even have her finger on the trigger. She stared back with wide brown eyes that made me think she was as frightened as I was. We broke eye contact when Ali spoke.

  "Vanessa?" Ali's voice was questioning, unsure. I looked again at the woman's dirty face as she scrutinized Ali, but I wasn't able to place her. When her hard glare turned to me, I visibly winced and found a patch of dirt to stare at instead.

  "I remember you two. Why are you back here now?" Her voice was still full of suspicion.

  Ali answered, somehow able to sound calm although her voice cracked towards the end. I doubted I would have been able to get the words out at all. "Passing through. We saw the smoke."

  Vanessa's dark eyes squinted and Ali met her glare defiantly. "Where you coming from? Where you heading?"

  "Lubbock." Ali snapped back quickly. I was growing more nervous by the second. "Been there a couple months. We're heading back to Nevada."

  "Why?" Vanessa didn’t relent.

  Ali huffed and glared back up at her. I sucked in a breath as I watched Vanessa shift the rifle, but Ali didn't seem fazed. Her words were steady when she spoke. This time, her voice didn't crack. "Because we travel. That's what we do. That's what we've always done."

  A tense silence stretched out around us all. I couldn't even breathe. The two women glared at each other as if I wasn't even there. Finally, unexpectedly, Vanessa's face cracked into a smirk. "You look like you could spit nails, girl."

  I blinked in shock, as did Ali. She shot me a quick look that I wasn't able to respond to. It took all my energy just to hold myself together.

  Vanessa seemed
to relax some. She turned slightly and used the rifle to gesture to the billowing smoke that had once been a thriving settlement. When she turned back to face us, she held the rifle loosely in her hands, the tip pointing at the ground.

  "As you can see, Sundown isn't what it used to be. You're immune. If you're immune, then you ain't part of who did this to our town." My eyes went wide with shock at her words. This was the first time I'd encountered anyone else that knew we could be immune. Ali didn't flinch at the woman's recognition at what we were. Her eyes just squinted momentarily and then the moment passed. They said nothing else on the subject and it left me confused and unsure.

  The older woman stepped forward and extended a hand to help Ali to her feet. I glanced again at the girl behind me and let out a long, pent-up breath when I saw she had lowered the gun. Her brown eyes had flecks of green in them and her nose was splattered with freckles. She didn’t meet my gaze.

  A sharp whisper turned my attention back to Ali and Vanessa. The whisper was low, as if I wasn't meant to overhear, but I was able to make out every word. It sent one last shiver down my spine.

  "You keep those weapons right where they are or we'll take them from you." Vanessa had pulled Ali close and that action finally had Ali's eyes wide with shock. Just as quickly, Vanessa let her go. I stepped close to Ali, feeling weak in the knees and hoping the worst was over. As soon as I grasped her arm, she reached up to pat my hand as if to comfort me. It wasn't that reassuring.

  "Alright Marley, keep that gun out." Vanessa addressed the girl and motioned for us to lead them down the hill. "I think we got us some new friends here but better safe than sorry. Ain't that right, Ali?"

  Ali glanced over her shoulder but didn't say anything. It was one thing for Vanessa to make a show of holding the guns down but it was still nerve-wracking to have them following behind us. I couldn't bring myself to look back.